Think I'm strange? Why do you ponder?
My wit's so quick it leaves behind thunder
It got me arrested the other day
They said 'sir, please put that knife away'
But it was sharp enough to slice right by
Subtle enough to slip and hide
Imagery so visual there's spotlight and stage
Bow to the audience and present the Word Play
Abstract, deep, or maybe pretentious
If that's weak then save me sweetness
Or just be bitter all the time
I think we need more flavors in our lives
But some phrases are too sour
Some spicy hot
Combine them in a daily diet
Eat up the lot
Synesthesia hides in these words
Taste the color of what you just heard
Compare the senses that I stirred
As each sentence takes the third
Stanza
Oh Santa what have you got this time?
Were you there to spare a fair
But lazily placed rhyme?
Yeah right twas the night
Before crisscross applesauce
When all through my head
Concepts, points, tangential joints
Changed all of the topics instead
Now say 'bye'
To your mind's eye
As it all becomes so real
And paint a picture
So dreamlike
As it all becomes surreal
How do you feel? Not with your heart
Now let's leave that enclosed
I refer to the hands. Understand?
Palms tapping and exposed
Oh no. Here you go:
A pun and paradox
How do I land my desert boat
By these dark white pair of docks?
"No. Look see, *****,
It's an oxymoron"
Well isn't that just great
Zip the chit chat
Have a Kit-Kat
While I take a...
No wait! Don't break copyright infringement
Clichéd rhymes should have signed I'm going off the hinges
Some were so slant that even Emily Dickinson
Would refuse to go and ski on them and she'd rather stay hidden
Was that reference too obscure or was that understood too fast?
Now that I asked that question I look like an ***
I'd break the ice but I can't skate
I'd break the glass but it'll lacerate
I'd break the tension but at this rate
I'd break my spirits when it's too late
Too late for what? Explain you say
Okay:
No.
Poems can be made to be vague
Flow so sick it causes a plague
Well let's just say my home anyway
Runs off a never ending source from me each day
The energy:
Power
Of Wordplay
When Prog-Hip Hop and Boredom get together, they get a bit too friendly and have a child.
This poem is that child. And the metaphor used to describe was entirely necessary.