Poem #38
Time to write a lousy poem.
One that doesn’t work on any level
No flow, no rhyme
Spirals into a core of infinite complexity
A din of terrified cacophony
Guttural groans
From depths of hell
Primitive utterances
Nonsensical, sensical
Repetitive patterning
Sing song, sing song
Tra la la la la, la la la la la la
A melody, a symphony
A smiling
Now laughing
Eyes gleaming
Faces loosening
Lips and tongue shaping
Speaking, words, speaking
Words and then lines
Lilting along as rhymes
In ever accelerating cadences
Completely and wholly connecting
This will be the one I don’t show
To anyone else.
One just for me
Whenever I start to think
It's too all too much
Thank you very much
I've had just about enough
If it ever comes
to that, the hope is,
I wont have to read it alone
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