I Live On Pride Block
by Maverick.214
by Maverick.214
No poetry, no afterthoughts,
no mention of any total recall or brain retention.
Words are empty in absence of feelings;
broken sentences, rhythmical pauses between ellipses,
and a shudder of silence bounces off walls and dusty ceilings.
Secondhand days bring no sales,
nobody can afford literal commodities on a shoestring diet of verbs and professional nouns.
Papers are worthless in absence of ideas;
ignorant tirades, oblivious procrastination between solar eclipses,
and a tempting drum beat only raises a peculiar wall of fear.
I am afraid of a block,
nothing but pride is standing in the way of expressive transgressions.
Poets are useless in absence of humility;
drifting for dear life on a raft of discombobulated rage against tides of yesterday's words,
and a mindful reminder of what could have been but never was if it can't ever be.
no mention of any total recall or brain retention.
Words are empty in absence of feelings;
broken sentences, rhythmical pauses between ellipses,
and a shudder of silence bounces off walls and dusty ceilings.
Secondhand days bring no sales,
nobody can afford literal commodities on a shoestring diet of verbs and professional nouns.
Papers are worthless in absence of ideas;
ignorant tirades, oblivious procrastination between solar eclipses,
and a tempting drum beat only raises a peculiar wall of fear.
I am afraid of a block,
nothing but pride is standing in the way of expressive transgressions.
Poets are useless in absence of humility;
drifting for dear life on a raft of discombobulated rage against tides of yesterday's words,
and a mindful reminder of what could have been but never was if it can't ever be.
No comments:
Post a Comment