ramble ye not ~ a preamble

 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 ………..