Abstract nouns
God and truth and death and sex:
It's all so simple and yet complex
I aim for smiles but keep getting frowns
So I'm trying to give up the damned abstract nouns
Abstraction (the word) is itself quite abstract.
Is my head up my gastro-intes-tin-al tract?
Is it time that I made a reality pact,
And turn all my rhymes into matters of fact?
God and truth and sex and death:
You tell me I'm only wasting my breath
And my peer's condemnation is doing the rounds
So I'm going cold turkey on damned abstract nouns
Since I've been having my meaning unpacked
I'm starting to see what my poems have lacked
Like a grand inquisition is having me racked,
And I'm forced to denounce all the nouns that abstract.
Truth and sex and death and god:
I try to be normal – perhaps I'm just odd;
Want to fly the trapeze but I'm put with the clowns.
So I try to cut down on the damned abstract nouns.
But the more I resist them, the more they close in
No chance of salvation from this poet's sin
The more that's encompassed by any damned word
The more that my clichés are mocked as absurd
Sex and god and death and truth:
I expect you'll be wanting a little more proof.
How it is, as they say, is not quite how it's stacked,
And amongst all my blessings not one of them's tact.
So you must forgive me for my subject's scope:
My ratings have fallen beyond any hope
And for failing to see how the mundane astounds
I'm condemned forever to damned abstract nouns.
Poetry by Andrew Bindon
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Written on 2009-12-01 at 13:45
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