Aye admit, an author's adept
and adroit mastery
to link words together subtly crept
(expressing contents
in a matter of fact
understandable fashion, except
for dissertations and/or kept
jargon for exclusive specialty)
posits, that my wordy verbosity,
revelation, viz "EUREKA" suddenly leapt
administers cerebral, harmful
offal psychological usury
verdict I accept
fomenting gobbledygook concept
might create notion, yours truly inept,
plus incorporating confessional backswept
facets of writerly person,
as sigh nearly wept
(drafting previous poem,
sans book review
like an emotional bit torrent windswept
"And I Don't Want
to Live This Life" anchored in concept,
qua raw maternal did severely intercept
the motherly bond Deborah Spungen
felt toward zombified miskept
incorrigibly, horribly, grievously...
tormented first born
or momentenous insept
begetting impregnation and early labor
Nancy Laura Spungen since birth,
perhaps seeped when aye slept
into nooks and crannies of subconscious,
though one could breeze thru said book
such evocative anguish left
me numbly bereft, yet acutely aware
to vicariously experience devastating agony!
Categories:
incorrigibly, books, courage, death, emotions,
Form: Free verse
Three months is date
Six months our hearts pulsate
Ninth month is here
If there isn't hate
Then soon will be a year
We're really to believe it to be fate?
Smothering ourselves in this theory
A concept based solely upon the idealistic "soulmate"
By this, we incorrigibly infatuate
Neglecting what's real
Ignorantly becoming our own hostages
Essentially an internal inmate
Prisoners who fear
Distrust
And self mutilate
We're sitting patiently as we wait
And wait
Just to wait
Playing these games we're burdened to tolerate
Causing confusion
Creating heartache
But in the end I'm betting all that I've got
Betting on the most evident of facts
As I'll always be the first to call...
Checkmate
Categories:
incorrigibly, confusion, dedication, depression, lost
Form: I do not know?