When I joined the men's breakfast group,
There were 5 men. When first invited, I had
no interest in any Group that was not about the
Bible or prayer. I later rethought it and thought
Perhaps such a group was what I needed for a change.
That reconsideration was one of the best decisions of my life.
For a change, I needed a season without a plan or program,
a season of meeting with a group of men for no particular reason.
For some 50 years prior, my life had been calculating and programmatic.
The men's breakfast that came together to be together and talk about
nothing specific made me a much more nourished and richer man.
Within my psychedelic psychosis divided by hell’s malignant mitosis,
Navigated by narcotized neurosis absorption through opiate osmosis…
Within my lunatic leverage of will, I needed to miraculously madly mill,
The negligent neurons of my ill amidst a faltering fragment of my spill.
My eyes that bear the bevel upon derelict distortions of a devious devil,
Laboring the leprous level of the seismic seizures that I neatly nestle…
In the abyss of my lacrimal laugh, I stand segmental with my satirical staff,
Decorative deceptions on my behalf as I stare at the world a genuine gaffe.
No real resolution to ponder for the quicksand of mind quivers yonder,
A sinkhole of a weeping wander amongst sacrifices of a slaving squander…
Thus in my sanctimonious seclusion within my catacombs of confusion,
The universe disperses diffusion along with programmatic parallel illusion.
June.06.2019
Eight Word Challenge
Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann
Placed 5'th...Thank You
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.