Put it down to a grey-haired obsession;
Participles are a vexed question.
Even though it sounds quaint,
Elegant it ain't,
Robbing gerunds of their possessions!
Categories:
gerunds, age, funny,
Form: Limerick
superlative in wrath as one who avenges nemeses
sometimes a man out of hate is subsumed in sounds
propagating the use of onomatopoeias
stomping slapping and gerunding
the ancient and eternal anachronism
of what is now in the cocoon and now is in larva
and what is this painful scream eroding the deaf world...
this man
this insect
the rare element that rubs its stems
swirls in the air and like a plume of lead
falls too mature in this life of less.
in wrath he utters the sounds of this holocaust.
he yearns and desires the cataclysm
so if a big earthquake breaks the plates
there is a breakdown in gravity
and the shaft rebalances the glasses in the bars
and the transit of capitals,
the lines of cars naturally reborn
and it's on the oil-splattered roads
where men test the speed of their anguish
and while the sun illuminates what he doesn't even know
that man silences his anger
chewing and swallowing the gerunds once more.
Categories:
gerunds, 11th grade, allegory,
Form: Free verse
(A linguistic experience)
Was there any argument that justified
the existence of the word-disease?
something more was said of this
at the beginning of the completion of the understanding
who disputed any logos establishing the new negative balance
on the influence of the word on the general condition
of the illiterate impatient patient?
scary demon-letters!
they run through the phrasal labyrinth
and the fat of leftover vowels
it smears the verbal walls and there is no law
that limits the limit of the limitless
sick phonemes accept any pain
there is no medicine and there is no leaflet insert
it is all unpredictability
I've been using gerunds around
like when who doesn't know
or not knowing in all a textual body
goes astray to where they call where...
Categories:
gerunds, crazy, imagination, poems,
Form: Free verse
I
Are you fascinated with languages
Including all swear words, and vulgarities
Some actually are as pleasant as cakes
But serious questions about LIGHTNING:
It is a gerund; the happening is the THING
Making a verb into a noun, as we do with FEEL-ing
II
Moving on from lightning and feeling -
The top of the line on offer is LOVING
As with theology, so with biology and matrimony:
The better part is in doing: "love" is nothing
But a word, if there is no actual LOVING
And what if God were LOVE in the abstract
Less loving and grace, as in the Older Covenant?
Categories:
gerunds, allusion, analogy, beauty, bible,
Form: Free verse
I
A whirlpool is not a pool of WHIRLS;
A whirlpool is but whirlpooling
II
Do you feel a feeling?
Do you light a lightning?
Perhaps FEELING and LIGHTNING are events in themselves.
Categories:
gerunds, analogy, creation, language,
Form: Prose Poetry
young whippersnapper brain
pours out her last idea
flicking adjectives into dirty dumpster
nouns prance off, disgusted
without elaboration or fancy descriptions
verbs take the lead,
kicking their adverbs to the curb
your nuances no longer welcome,
a mob mentality
seeking satisfaction in a brick alley
prepositions begin to arrive at the front
under the discarded boxes
searching through the rubble of the day
one climbs up the filthy trash heap
jumping into a pile of overused words
word play being what it is,
startling, laughing, loving gerunds arrive
carrying participles on their backs.
They cannot stop hitting, hurting and killing each other
Stop! Title yells. I want some kind of legacy.
I have no words to add, being mute and respectful of my elders
I am a mere homophone,
too consternated to know these two warring factions
well enough to take sides.
Categories:
gerunds, word play,
Form: Free verse
What is it
You expect to see
When you string along
Verbs and gerunds to be?
Do you fancy yourself
A poet in history divine?
Do you really believe
Your verse is in time?
What is it, do you want to
Get from
All these poems
You call them
When really
There's none.
On a level that
Really no one else sees
You post another verse
And sit back and wait
While others dont feel.
No one gets me
Or heard me
I'm so above this
But deep down you know
You're not worth a kiss.
It's a sad, rainy day
As you write for yourself
They're really isn't
Anyone else.
But in your head
You can pat yourself on the back
And think i hope no one
sees I'm a hack.
But the truth is more hard
Like a mass on a tumor
Your poetry, alas,
Is solipsistic rumor.
Categories:
gerunds, poems,
Form: Rhyme
I think too much about science,
Worthless lot of apes;
Spoken for so as never to speak
For themselves.
I think too much about
Religion,
Worthless lot of apes;
I stack tarot cards on bibles
Fishing for magical faith.
I think too much about politics,
Worthless lot of apes,
I grease the wrong palms,
And lobby the other industry.
I think enough about words,
To fill a bowl of verbs, and
A plate of nouns and gerunds.
Categories:
gerunds, i am, science,
Form: Free verse
is it a noun or is a verb um to ing or not to ing question my son to patronize a thing gerunds ung unga to ingaz not beggar belong to egads not like cave man talk but suffix's runnen ans end mind affixes the word things we call ing's running to flow agitating syntax your mind along the lang darling short for to be the slang suffice to be or not to be suspense supine a rhyme came thee
Categories:
gerunds, allegory, funny, on work
Form: Free verse
A Strand of Aphoristic Brian
Brian Strand has no business, “knowing he”.
Writing Ekphrasis flowing poetry
His poetry is hypothetical
Professor of all things theatrical
Perfectionist, of succinct brevity
An archer with an eagle’s clarity
Economical adjectives spin, leaked
As he re-cycles gerunds as we speak.
Brian Strand is a living breathing abstract waiting to self express
We love you Brian!
Categories:
gerunds, satirepoetry,
Form: Grook