ramble ye not ~ a preamble
modern times
softness is hardening
the romantic poets are past
there may be some room for softness
but it is dancing on the head of a needle
patience at the end-times has run out of time
pain awakes from the dullness of pain
there is no time to shilly-shally or nicey-nicey words
wake up lads and lasses the attitude of lassitude
will not even tolerate smart-alec words such as those
the rapier smiles as it slides in with a wink
as the bloody poems drop to their knees
longing is no longer permitted
give it to me straight doc
look me in the eye and see the shutters rattle
the alarms ringing
the tyrant’s gun pointing
bite the fingernails of words until their quicks bleed
jump up arms and legs akimbo and scream
and keep on screaming
for screaming is now the norrrrrm
until maybe just maybe one word will stop you in your tracks
pin that word to your brow as a shibboleth
and throw all else to the dogs of past oeuvres
let us all walk about with those words pinned and
pointing and nodding at each other’s insight
that yes
we are the poems now
for the poets are dead
we are the badgering dodgems the brownian motion
of the disintegrating molecules of rectitude
there is now the piercing light of understanding
that all is black and that dark-energy needs few sobriquets
few false emotions as euphemisms for stark reality
how many moths do you need to see that it is a light burning
the filament of understanding has seared my retina
the only words i see now are glowing under my eye lids
the blind cannot see so why shout
the deaf cannot hear so why point the word flashlight
ah woe is me is an anagram of ahem woe is me
ahem cough cough ahem
oh i say
why such a long poem to say that poetry’s need is a succinct underscore
surely one word would have sufficed instead of this rambling
try …….
THE END
OK have it your way it is two words!! ~ but then …
nothing ………..
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