An elusive art
all you can do is put pen to paper
what difference does that make?
Did it end any wars?
Did it make this belly achin'
hunger, dissapear?
Pretender! they scream
you're just a coward
hiding behind a turn of phrase
holding onto the fraying string of grammer.
Precariously perched on an exclamation,
lurking in hyperbole's shadow
while ducking behind an apostrophe,
stretching to make ends meet.
What is the real world?
Can you answer me that?
How ever could you?
If you hold onto your stupid fantasy
and let go of fact?
Dreamy-eyed procrastinator,
tweed-eyed optimist.
What have you to offer the world?
Inverting the order of words
and the like, to confuse
the ordinary
among us here?
Its won over hearts
we say in meek defense
the stout and the weak.
Has soothed ours pain
and offered us much!
There you go again
complexing the simple,
Pluralizing the singular
multiplying the dividend.
Why can't you just say
what you mean to say
rather than dilly and dally
this way?
Spit it out!
Say it quick,
we've got no time
to stick
around.
Ah yes, tis true
seems only a few
have the measure
of the climaxing of day
and slow progression of night
in their mad hurry to make a quick dime.
They lose their temper and scream
JUST SAY IT
WE'RE OBSESSED WITH MAKIN' MONEY
AND WE AIN'T GOT NO TIME!!!
Poetry by shar
Read 821 times
Written on 2008-02-27 at 19:31
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
A(n) E'Loose'ive Art
Loser! they screamall you can do is put pen to paper
what difference does that make?
Did it end any wars?
Did it make this belly achin'
hunger, dissapear?
Pretender! they scream
you're just a coward
hiding behind a turn of phrase
holding onto the fraying string of grammer.
Precariously perched on an exclamation,
lurking in hyperbole's shadow
while ducking behind an apostrophe,
stretching to make ends meet.
What is the real world?
Can you answer me that?
How ever could you?
If you hold onto your stupid fantasy
and let go of fact?
Dreamy-eyed procrastinator,
tweed-eyed optimist.
What have you to offer the world?
Inverting the order of words
and the like, to confuse
the ordinary
among us here?
Its won over hearts
we say in meek defense
the stout and the weak.
Has soothed ours pain
and offered us much!
There you go again
complexing the simple,
Pluralizing the singular
multiplying the dividend.
Why can't you just say
what you mean to say
rather than dilly and dally
this way?
Spit it out!
Say it quick,
we've got no time
to stick
around.
Ah yes, tis true
seems only a few
have the measure
of the climaxing of day
and slow progression of night
in their mad hurry to make a quick dime.
They lose their temper and scream
JUST SAY IT
WE'RE OBSESSED WITH MAKIN' MONEY
AND WE AIN'T GOT NO TIME!!!
Poetry by shar
Read 821 times
Written on 2008-02-27 at 19:31
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Mark J. Wood |
Texts |
by shar Latest textsMusic-lover'Strung' over B.A (Be a) 'different'! Paying it Forward. Justified |
Increase font
Decrease