A hodgepodge of concepts, Bluntly spoken it is a nightmare.
Were we ever gifted with our own voice, Our own speech, our words and vocabulary?
To tempt the lion and tiger of Genius from the dense jungle Of neural pathways Begetting the Flight of fancy And a solid idea: The ****.
Strangely, Last Wednesday There was a snake at my door And I could have been bitten.
Moral of the story: Do not dress up the ego With sweet metaphor Else the snake of thought Will consume itself In the flames of self-pity And the cat will go hungry.
I'm a little rusty, but I caught the muse and am overjoyed that the poem reads clearly