Now burst forth your long-suffocated song,
You gagged lips with mute anthems sweet!
Speak of your celestial lays with angels high
In stillest skies above men's unmusical beat.
Say which den under heaven's serenest wings
Writhes most chargrined by tart mortal things.
Divulge rare trills piped by such celestial sum,
More dulcet tunes that finessed pickers strum.
Kindly whisper into this pen's Muse-eluded ear
The unheard-of strains that superior lyres pelt.
In gentler tones alien to poor harps herebelow,
Play fine ditties that earth's senses haven't felt.
Anon spill in over-millioned soothing tongues
Ethereal lines to sate this poet's aching pangs;
And in earnest buzz your time-perfected chant
To shame the best of man's cacophonous rant.
Your most inharmonic line in lame pitch sung,
Beats all tuneful vibes powered by carnal lung.
Categories:
millioned, art, mountains, muse, mystery,
Form: Lyric
can 10,000 poets, stand on the head of a pin
reading rune, reciting rhyme, a deafening din
orating from books, digital tablets and papers
nursing versing, some adroit linguistic capers
did God really, when he pulled out Adam's rib
contemplate the ramifications of what he did?
giving to man and woman the gift of gab
to pass earthly days on this planetary lab
all languages come, and like Latin might go
to ancient history rites forgotten, although
oratory of any form is central to what is human
grunts and poetic punts, give hints of what can
be gleaned of humans desires and meanings
jawing on in between, interactions intervening
language is a way the seventh sense can reach far
to futures, across millioned miles, to another's heart
to see it, hear it beat, touch its pumping flesh
to feel life's joy, as well, as its bloody distress
can 10,000 poets dance on the head of a pin?
if they say what they mean, gracefully, they can
© Goode Guy 2011-11-29
Categories:
millioned, introspection, on writing and
Form: Couplet