Old Pantaloons, a Chiasmus
by Michael R. Burch

Old pantaloons are soft and white,
prudent days, imprudent nights
when fingers slip through drawers to feel
that which they long most to steal.

Old ***** loons are soft and white,
prudent days, imprudent nights
when fingers slip through drawers to steal
that which they long most to feel.

Keywords/Tags: chiasmus, pantaloons, *****, loons, *******, pun, wordplay, underwear, fetish, lingerie, pervert, perverts, *******

Poetry is not often a
Circle. More a snare.
Noose in my hands.
Chiasmus is thorough:
I am locked in.

Evokes tension. Before
the full-stop. Before the cadence.
You and blood: red, oppressive blood.
Chiasmus cannot contain this
flood:

this drowning.

It is a love poem when I am making love to you, a soliloquy of silence but for your murmurs and your moans. The stanza of your shilouette, the verses of your curves. An iamb means I love you dearly, a dactyl that you are delicious, spondees and trochess of tenderness and passion. There are rhymes and rhythms when we lie upon each other, an alliteraration of kisses and hugs, caesuras to catch out breath. Our love-making is a chiasmus, making and taking tortuous turns until white sheets and yellow pillows fall on hardwood floors. Caresses precede onomatopoetic sighs that become love songs. Anaphoric thrusts need no explication, only the silence and solitude of joy.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

When my mind is in mental

turmoil and there is nothing

from a bottle to aid me, I go

where peace has no perimeter.


Once by the Iambic pentameter

a metaphor and a simile were

binary, it was time for a Pause

because of the assonance before

the ****** of this rhyming Couplet.


Then I saw a Trope with Hyperbole

what a Personification of an Allegory

considering an Apostrophe between

their Blank Verse which though it

invoked Imagery there was a visible

Caesura which was a bit of a Chiasmus.


Next, I met a Lullaby from Limerick who

had a one night Stanza with Anagram

but decided to Refrain because he was

not familiar with the Rhythm system

and she had preference for Synecdoche.


Well. It is time for a Valediction from me

or Beat it as they say Figuratively speaking

besides Metonymy is not my style so I'll go

back via the Pastoral Prose where VillaNelle

is reciting a Soliloquy to a very Ode friend.