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Isnt it 'funny'?

How Poets routinely tell lies or truth with great "sincerity"

and earnest projections of "poetic charisma" and lashings

of "who me tell lies?".

and yet they routinely avoid truthfulness, in case they forget the  power of lies and truth, in their search for fame.

Mesmerised by its attendant celebrity groupmind and of course its wealth..

Indeed Poets don't want to know that truthfulness

has nothing to do with truth.

Indeed Poets don't want to know that truth

is a lie and a lie is truth,

two sides of a darkened mirror

and both are equally valueless

except  for  seeing false faces in..

Poets bleat on about how the shackleable object of their 'love' ,

she or he, are not theirs to own

or categorise or monopolise.

yet they keep on expecting full submission

and just getting an empty back,

and a disappearing set of footprints.

Like the sheep and goats that Poets are,

they bleat on endlessly

about their wants their wants  their wants.

They want fame as Poets--disguised as distribution deals.

They want contracts to produce garbage for HallMark--as if..

They want **** licking critical acclaim--from **** licking critics.

They want international poetry prizes from aesthetic morons--

wearing Armani suits.

They want Groupies--but not *******

They want Media eulogies--but not truthfulness.

Always are they deliberately forgetting that

"you cant always get what you want".

The last thing that Poets want is what they need most of all.

They really need

An end to the narcissism of those

that want to be called "poet"--in your dreams.

An end to the juvenile arrogance that motivates them to put up strings

of meaningless associated words

and vainly call them poems.

An end to childish immaturity, and inchoate meandering

through other peoples words and experiences, stealing others lives

and characters.

Always incessantly pretending that because

they can read the words of others

that they have also shared their experiences--indeed their experience was deeper wider higher.

In another day and age of non-violent sensibility  

these kind of Poets would

be called thieves and liars.

In this day and  age they scribble emotional garbage

and pretend its "poetry"--encouraged by intellectual follies.

As poets they have become walking proto cash registers.

Sin Verguensa.

Sin Verguensa.

Sin is Spanish for without.

Poets are  SIN integrity.

Poets are SIN Truthfulness.

Poets are SIN decency.

Poets are SIN.

Im so glad I could never be mistaken for a  Poet.

Wouldnt want to be mistaken as a poet.

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Written by
mannley-collins
Published
Jul 15, 2014
Lines·Words
58·408
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