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nat-lipstadtPoems
Timeless Poet Who called me that? Why make this line item, A poem? What means this timeless? That There is not enough Time to elaborate all that I can conceive? No, mundane, nothing more. The POW poems arrive at all hours, And we no longer care when and if you sleep, For plain the answer, your internal clock, askew, The answer already poetically enshrined, Nevermore... Did you deceive yourself, As is your vanity customary, That your scribblings May last one day longer than your physical self? Dddddelusionary, like confectionary, God tasting for a few seconds, Then it is just a song Of get a long little doggies!^ Perhaps the phrase reversed, The meaning peversed? Poet Timeless. Ah that's it! Lay down your crafty pride, egotist, On theTemple Altar, It is already but a burnt sacrifice! Before God, there will always be poets. Yours the mantle to carry till you fall, Then another man's children will lift up words In combinations denied you. They will take your scribblings, Rearrange, Just as you did, unawares, There is nothing new under the sun, Especially the illusion that there is Something unborn yet to say. Ah Poets, Egotistical tools, So easy to fool... ^ http://www.lyricsfreak.com/c/chris+ledoux/get+along+little+doggies_20209623.html
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Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 2:17 PM UTC
Timeless Poet
Timeless Poet Who called me that? Why make this line item, A poem? What means this timeless? That There is not enough Time to elaborate all that I can conceive? No, mundane, nothing more. The POW poems arrive at all hours, And we no longer care when and if you sleep, For plain the answer, your internal clock, askew, The answer already poetically enshrined, Nevermore... Did you deceive yourself, As is your vanity customary, That your scribblings May last one day longer than your physical self? Dddddelusionary, like confectionary, God tasting for a few seconds, Then it is just a song Of get a long little doggies!^ Perhaps the phrase reversed, The meaning peversed? Poet Timeless. Ah that's it! Lay down your crafty pride, egotist, On theTemple Altar, It is already but a burnt sacrifice! Before God, there will always be poets. Yours the mantle to carry till you fall, Then another man's children will lift up words In combinations denied you. They will take your scribblings, Rearrange, Just as you did, unawares, There is nothing new under the sun, Especially the illusion that there is Something unborn yet to say. Ah Poets, Egotistical tools, So easy to fool... ^ http://www.lyricsfreak.com/c/chris+ledoux/get+along+little+doggies_20209623.html
nat-lipstadt
Written by
nat-lipstadt
99/M/NYC/Lippstadt/Kraków
Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 2:17 PM UTC
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