Get Your Premium Membership

Onoff the cuff

I believe that poetry is and of is was were have has been of as one pretenses a poetic practical pompous, pro (p) ransomedramatical postenses pretending to prose promise a predictive premise primatory practicum politicallty polishing practcoriam process of primary preliminary postures pragmatic promulgates telling the ta ta tumultuous tillo tales of tawdry banal blog lists calling me to quali-quantify the reso-resolutes resounding in resilient quo quotients that bear a breach bridgeborn badge billed barometer bearing broad billboard catatonic catashrospies creating caustic crill coffinistic coiffures canonizing socio unsettling leo linguistic lies in a somewhat lovevoid livid liquiditoria regal ransom based regalia resonating rawbone residual retinal real time tombosoties transitioning with toying transient trio tide tooth crass cavity craino creep mandibulo master mildew mold molecular mamsy-pamsy sillopsuedo master of ever me present I , me , mine, maestro sitting back and looking at the world as a place to be not to be, hope to be, wish to be, be to be, in the proper primer of humino yesnomenclatureculture of that which is u me us our belief sem radical of our prim-ordeal sociodiscontentselfevident irrelevant mean fullness, to countercure our quick/quack quotient umbrella upbringing to say do write feel text tank athink all that is emo exit everpresent to keep the fecal faces free of founding father status inquo man although time is time in place. Mindfulness is a mute place ill unattended by sociocrap everlasting. Treasure travel inviting innate needs netherly nodding to the primo positive practitudes of acoustic ancillary annotated awareness, allowing all annuities ancient archaic to willfully wind wind waveringly wish away intrinsic id-ideas. It it is what u want it it to be, say, scroll, live, plural, self to self. Use it, lose it, share it, beware it, con-cure it, it. Know it it's criminal capitol is wary for before u know it it, life it before it its u, and will its it and ego ale all eek out the precious profit of its itdom idiocracy illusionary in its illogical inness so mad made as not to gravely gravitate ungracious griefs upon your its it. scary huh. Karma it, Big Daddy.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2013




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.