Modern Poem
It was only a fleeting second
but you knew
that these occasional acts
of controlled violence prolonged the silence
between the stanzas.
The verses I wrote
arrogantly thinking that
they could change something;
not between us, just
a part of what was.
Here, every word could be
a monument to love or grief;
a sigh of ennui
or just relief
or just a pause.
Well supposed, well disposed
to the occasional sleight of hand.
So as to understand
nothing so bland
as the obvious.
There is simile
and metaphor
and everything else is just propaganda
that will be spelt out
for educational purposes.
For poetry is
the new education
and the latest government policy
that the Prime Minister
will relate so apostrophisedly.
Copyright © Denis Joe | Year Posted 2009
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