pulchritudinous ingots chisel and shades
dazzle and illuminate umpteen reasons
poetry is like a swirling, susurrus-sibilant chimera
of innuendo arty souls, albeit vapid syntax
around serene scenery, orbs, and idealism
Is unction vital to adorn naked words with plumose wings?
whose views of contentment, vim, and happiness?
Inversely hamstringing people with arrows?
sighs of sorrow sound sowed soil
mothers, wailing and yelling out to unborn spirits
as our hearts crave affection
poetry provides its verisimilitude vacuum
do susurrus coruscating suborn scarlet spills?
deep within a stymie pirouette
the tortured sinews of a troubled mind are twisting
my life bill was still due till my final breath
I bequeath you my spirit as expressed in sonnets
I bequeath you my marrow, wrapped in iambic style
I bequeath you my mind, crafted with mispronunciation
sharing with those who owe me a xanthous soul
The llama has a name that everybody mispronounces.
"The double 'll', it sounds like 'y'," he patiently announces.
"The single 'l', it sounds like 'l'," proceeds his dissertation,
"And a 'lama' is a holy man of Tibetan derivation.
But what I cannot understand," says he,
"Is why it's not left up to me
To solve a problem that's become the worst case
Of mispronunciation in the history of creation,
And spell it 'yama', like it sounds, in the first place!"
I think it is funny how OFTEN we are wrong,
How we don’t speak the right way,
How words that are written throughout the LIBRARY,
Aren’t the words that we say,
From FAUX PAS to ALMOND, to ET CETERA,
GENRE, and FILM, and BOUTIQUE,
Commonly miss said, uttered all wrong,
Razing the way that we speak,
I think it’s important we clean up this CHAOS,
Our enunciation becomes understood,
And we clean away DEBRIS of mispronounced words,
That we talk, you know… proper and good.
I remember you when you were first swaddled.
I remember your first steps waddled.
I remember your first words spoke,
And I remember your mispronunciation being our joke.
I was there when all others left you alone.
I was there to care for you as a son, my own.
I was there when you were mercilessly beat,
And I was there when the world crumbled under your feet.
I witnessed the struggled transition from adoption.
I witnessed when you grew and wished a different option.
I witnessed when the stress took you and you lost control,
And I witnessed when the darkness began consuming your soul.
Gain for yourself some semblance of strength.
Against apathy push back and keep at arms length
Bitterness and rage which can so easily ensnare.
Rise above and become a statistic much more rare.
Improve on that which has made you great.
Exuviate that which is only encumbering weight.
Let yourself be better than the rest in your crowd.
P.S. And bear in mind always, little brother,
Despite where you've been,
You've made me proud.
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