Before buying Twitter in 2022, Musk had said, “Buying Twitter is an accelerant to creating X, the everything app."
Blue birdie, we bid you goodbye.
The sight of that “X” makes us sigh.
It’s not cute like you.
Will Musk ever rue
the day he coerced you to fly?
So~~Twitter is neck-deep in debt.
“X” won’t solve that problem, I’ll bet.
We know you’ll be missed.
So sad you’ve been dissed
by one who views X like a pet!
Categories:
accelerant, change,
Form: Limerick
What does it take to write a poem,
a format, a principle perhaps imagination,
If like me you make it up going along,
can turn into a leaning conflagration.
Sparks in the first verse are starting points,
but might fade out with a whimper,
Thought I had something going there,
too complicated, let’s try something simpler,
I need fresh kindling, to create a flash,
not just latent potential,
Good starting to catch, providing a glow,
but much more fuel is essential.
Lightning strike out of nowhere,
creative thoughts bring more accelerant,
Flames appear radiating tepid heat,
a little crude, requiring elegance.
This fire is burning all my reserves,
morphing into a raging inferno,
Now spreading out of control gone wild,
lacking containment and tempo,
Ok ease off the gas, take deep breaths,
attempt to regain composure,
Boy almost lost it there,
must keep in surrounded enclosure.
On the home straight my poem’s on fire,
nice and steady, aflame at last,
Time for crescendo, pull it all together,
along comes a draught.....blast!
By
David Kavanagh
Categories:
accelerant, allusion, encouraging, humor, irony,
Form: Rhyme
She cries over broken rearview things,
sideway decisions
that can never be back pedal changed
Sad memories be gastric
fumes of the last emotional wrong turn
Past petrol vapors
igniting present date swerve heartburn
Pulse accelerant tears
kindle sorrowful thoughts:
Remembrance of broken bosom pain
Wet pillow skid years,
trapped temporally aught
behind the wheel of misfortune flame
She tries to get over the unsafe bridge of sighs;
but blurred vision
won’t let the past hurt go, it clearly never dies
Gasp recollection of accidental words,
fatal fumes of the last argumentive wrong turn
Regret fueled vapors
sparks a future spinster fate swerve heartburn
Accelerant tears
pulsating ask the tint rearview mirror,
who’s at fault?
Speed dial relationship got single digital shattered, very hastily
Wet hanky fears
make the crossroad choice less clearer,
all for naught
Old flames of guilt melt merging desire, now running on empty
Categories:
accelerant, loneliness, metaphor, sad, time,
Form: Free verse
American Nero,
showering utter disdain —
Denigration downpour on pleb citizens
begging for pandemic crumbs
As the pestilent fire rages around
your virally tainted kingdom
Ghastly gladly,
you keep on fiddling
acid text madly
Dripping hateful words that burn
deep into the bipolar soul
of a divided nation
An enamel disrobed toga ethos
reveal naked desires
Sparking flames of cold pathos
American Nero,
a contemptible paper reign
is exit poll falling
Whilst the fire of pox chaos
contagiously spread
with spittle accelerant ease
This scorching hoax
raze any flagging, publican hope
Truth unmasked
do singe that gallows rumor rope
Fiery breath fiddler
kindling fear,
high up on that Ivory Tower roof
Tearfully playing the ill-fated fool madly,
as graven torch idolatry
lay fallow ‘neath ash liberty truth
Categories:
accelerant, allegory, character, fire, identity,
Form: Dramatic Verse
His name is Mr. Phire,
but he insist you call him R. Syn
He's a torch for hire,
if you need something set ablaze,
something smoking
Make the right down payment;
and have a full gas can, flick foolproof plan
If you need five-alarm action ...
yeah, R. Syn is the best ashes delivery man
So, there is no need for a heartless heater;
the barrel cold, bullet indifference of a plastic gun
Mr. Phire is a passionate pyre thrill seeker,
he sure loves having some Fahrenheit funeral fun
When it comes to pyrotechnics,
he's the Spark Vader of demolition
There's nothing he can't destroy,
he'll scorch all of your competition
R. Syn for hire
be his fiery street cred calling card lit boast
Get in acetylene touch with him,
if you want something turned to burnt toast
But right now, he's presently indisposed
at an undisclosed penal facility
He's currently planning an accelerant daring escape caper
Waiting for a rookie guard to permit him
unsupervised use of contraband matches and toilet paper
This poem was originally posted on 10-14-16
— Romantic Warrior
Categories:
accelerant, humorous, parody, satire, word
Form: Light Verse
Be-bop, shu-baby-bop,
the blues on fire
The strings an accelerant,
the harp but a pyre
The melody unseen,
its heartbeat within
Be-bop, shu-baby-bop
—reality’s hymn
(Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2019)
Categories:
accelerant, music,
Form: Rhyme
His name is Mr. Phire,
but he insist you call him R. Syn
He's a torch for hire,
if you need something set ablaze,
something smoking
Make the right down payment;
and have a full gas can, flick foolproof plan
If you need five-alarm action ...
yeah, R. Syn is the best ashes delivery man
So, there is no need for a heartless heater;
the barrel cold, bullet indifference of a plastic gun
Mr. Phire is a passionate pyre thrill seeker,
he sure loves having some Fahrenheit funeral fun
When it comes to pyrotechnics,
he's the Spark Vader of demolition
There's nothing he can't destroy,
he'll scorch all of your competition
R. Syn for hire
be his fiery street cred calling card lit boast
Get in acetylene touch with him,
if you want something turned to burnt toast
But right now, he's presently indisposed
at an undisclosed penal facility
He's currently planning an accelerant daring escape caper
Waiting for a rookie guard to permit him
unsupervised use of contraband matches and toilet paper
Categories:
accelerant, humor, humorous, satire, society,
Form: Light Verse
Come in from the cold winter rain my love
Come into my arms let me hold you love
There's nothing left somewhere out there dove
In my arms La Vie En Rose to speak of
Let us dine the food is excellent
The home is warm with soft crackling fire
My heart 's in elation no accident
The accelerant of your love inspires
Once again in your arms my love whisper
Whisper love quietly by holding close
Our love can only grow and go deeper
As mature love can between two engross
Come my love into my arms from the cold
Bask in the warmth of my love_tightly hold
Categories:
accelerant, lovelove,
Form: Sonnet
As the sun rises on the distant horizon like a match spark that is thrown into a
bonfire...a bonfire saturated in an accelerant...Bright red casting color onto the
dark ominous clouds chasing them away..May I depend on the Son today to
chase all problems, fears, anxieties into a place of non-existence. In so doing
my life will be fuller, happier and there will be contentment of heart and
mind..Over on the horizon it seems that the clouds are gone and the sun is
shining brightly but over me the clouds linger with dampness and cool air..The
cool morn is a glorious good time to think and work.The son is rising up farther
now and the clouds are closing in on it...There is one streak of the sun in a
break in the clouds that looks like a lazar beam flashing forth..There's
something about this moment and configuration of the heavenlies that is so
soothing to my spirit...This moment will pass into eternity...Will I be the only
one that shared this color, design, and precise moment with God and the
angels...
Categories:
accelerant, devotionson, son, sun,
Form: Prose Poetry
the fuse is lit
a kiss is the propellant
our bodies are entwined
on fire from accelerant
and we burn white-hot
but we burn too quick
our liaison had
a very short wick
Categories:
accelerant, introspection
Form: Free verse