THE BEST POET EVER
Wouldn't it seem to persist an unspoken personal longing for perfection?
Is insinuated toward poetic supremacy; obviously . . .
I would feel confident in generalizing the presence within us all—to achieve god-like greatness.
I must say, that unlike an athletic sport, such as baseball or golf, being the absolute best poet known by man may not be worth such glorious hype.
What hype may you say?
The hype that you alone glorify and likewise romanticize from within...
Lets attempt at an . . .
What exactly might you picture the greatest poet ever to be
—like in person—
Questions are and have always been the most direct route towards happiness.
Happy answers have happy-ness endings, for ever and ever more after, until the end of referential time perspective as we each uniquely perceive such profound emotion time...of
Time is not ever enough and following suit to such course remains time a completely different subject all together
all time space in poem continues.
The best poet ever... ?
I wonder...(sniffing finger)
what this person would be like in real life?
I must say that I have recently listened to a talented female poet recite a great poem and....
virgin ears here...
I guess I'm alluding at the fact remains that I am cut from the
gender variety—attached to my hip is a...
A big heap of trouble...
Questions about I comparing myself with the mental idea of my personal belief being that I possibly may be the very best poet ever?
Obviously I am that man...
You see, I must surely be the greatest poet because In my possession is all of the required traits of a master poet.
Listed as follows:
a night owl
in debt; indigent...poor
a receding hair line
(and) developing a bald spot?
have some habitual OCD
am a sucker for a beautiful lady
am ignorant—many times
am a loner
have little to none of the actual real life friends ?
have an extremely large head
generally possess a
big ego and
poor eating habits
suffer with bad breath
sit on the toilet until my legs go completely numb while writing top shelf poems
father to several children (with different suitors)
able to laugh at my own jokes
talented by nature
an awful speller/
I mean smeller
And to keep time square, I shall parade my way out of this testimonial excuse for a poetry tribute, saying farewell with a greater poet's ending—rarest one, actually answering rather than left at questionable.
Poetry writing poets' aspiring all to become the best poet ever—but let me ask you something...
Are you prepared to have life punch you square in the nose, sniffling lie after lie, stricken with madness to such extents that even your very own hair begins to bail on you; looked down upon by society's higher eyes of negative judgments'—experiencing true failure.
Living only to die, without recognition.
somehow, someway, in the end of it all, I can absolutely guarantee you that even knowing what you now know about being the best poet ever, you will still live a more complete life than any normal person could even dream about living in such attempts, even were you to fail.
I must know,
I'm bound to prevail and rise to the top or fight through the pain...
defying the odds to become the best poet ever!
I know I (can) do it!
Create magic in words as always embraced by hope to push through it all—allowing whenever, wherever, however and whatever to take place as life kicks me in my face; kicks me in my balls and through such pain calls out in agony when the bells ring and timeless words rest in a forever beautiful light; shimmering upon the skyline of the sun and glorious moon crowns light on a long shot poet with his best eyes finally finding peace, rested atop his legacy to remain forever known as;
the best poet ever.
Copyright © Ironic Zink | Year Posted 2017
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