Poet, can I reliably conclude that things are good, since you have stopped (estoppel) writing poetry?
~for her, whose muse has fled, but not to Canada, one more last time!~
<>
a writers block of a two-step dancing duration,
we stumble on her green light status,
she’s alive, she’s up in Canada, so
do the obligatory checkin in, checking out
and that It occurs my next question is
a superlative poem title challenge for
the lady with the eyebrow extensions,
and other ways she found to make me laugh
so for her, for me, and perhaps for you,
I commission myself with a task, knowing
not where this will demise eventually
***can I reliably conclude that things are good,
since you have stopped writing poetry?***
which is a ****** self-mockery cause my dopamine
levels are ***** high when Mercury is yet in
retrograde, my serotonin is sinkhole sinking
in anticipation of Saturn’s Return returning,
the solstice just passed by, my full moon
phase is super glue stuck in the fourth
house of/if the rising sun
if things ain’t ***** why write?
is its therapeutic healing power aside,
maybe, baby, one, or two, can one, reliably
conclude that things are good, now that
you have stooped to estop
writing your poetry?*
God I hope so otherwise I’ve embarrassed myself,
wisely forgot to dedicate this you-inspired-silliness
(by name, gender, bio markers, tribal incantation)
with a serious undertone, and
a writ of estoppel attached,
but you know already this
ones just for you,
and your many
toddler children
to whom you
attend to daily,
as they draw
strength from
sun and rain,
dark soil and
you.
natty
p.s. always use your turning signals
Jun 26, 2020
Jun 26, 2020 at 9:27 AM UTC
Poet, can I reliably conclude that things are good, since you have stopped (estoppel) writing poetry?
~for her, whose muse has fled, but not to Canada, one more last time!~
<>
a writers block of a two-step dancing duration,
we stumble on her green light status,
she’s alive, she’s up in Canada, so
do the obligatory checkin in, checking out
and that It occurs my next question is
a superlative poem title challenge for
the lady with the eyebrow extensions,
and other ways she found to make me laugh
so for her, for me, and perhaps for you,
I commission myself with a task, knowing
not where this will demise eventually
***can I reliably conclude that things are good,
since you have stopped writing poetry?***
which is a ****** self-mockery cause my dopamine
levels are ***** high when Mercury is yet in
retrograde, my serotonin is sinkhole sinking
in anticipation of Saturn’s Return returning,
the solstice just passed by, my full moon
phase is super glue stuck in the fourth
house of/if the rising sun
if things ain’t ***** why write?
is its therapeutic healing power aside,
maybe, baby, one, or two, can one, reliably
conclude that things are good, now that
you have stooped to estop
writing your poetry?*
God I hope so otherwise I’ve embarrassed myself,
wisely forgot to dedicate this you-inspired-silliness
(by name, gender, bio markers, tribal incantation)
with a serious undertone, and
a writ of estoppel attached,
but you know already this
ones just for you,
and your many
toddler children
to whom you
attend to daily,
as they draw
strength from
sun and rain,
dark soil and
you.
natty
p.s. always use your turning signals
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/1832256/i-showed-no-mercy-to-her-eyebrow-extensions/
continue to write of, for, about poets, living and dead.
writ of Estoppel is a legal principle that prevents someone from arguing something or asserting a right that contradicts what they previously said or agreed to by law. It is meant to prevent people from being unjustly wronged by the inconsistencies of another person's words or actions.
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