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To the Post-Modern Muse, Floundering
by Michael R. Burch

The anachronism in your poetry
is that it lacks a future history.
The line that rings, the forward-sounding bell,
tolls death for you, for drowning victims tell
of insignificance, of eerie shoals,
of voices underwater. Lichen grows
to mute the lips of those men paid no heed,
and though you cling by fingertips, and bleed,
there is no lifeline now, for what has slipped
lies far beyond your grasp. Iron fittings, stripped,
have left the hull unsound, bright cargo lost.
The argosy of all your toil is rust.

The anchor that you flung did not take hold
in any harbor where repair is sold.

Published by: Ironwood, Sonnet Writers and Poetry Life & Times

Keywords/Tags: poets, poetry, postmodern, Muse, floundering, shipwreck, argosy, cargo, anchor, drowning, voices, underwater, lifeline, lost
Merry Oct 2019
I’m just a postmodern bush poet
Roaming and roving rusty roads
Writing, wordsmithing, amid yellow grass
Fondling the various ******* of Mother Nature
The hills and mountains, all her nooks and crannies
Looking at peeled potato sheeps
Dreaming about what great stews they would make
Listening to a bit of AC/DC
With no wuckin’ furries
Getting eyed by work dogs
With no sense of self-preservation
Telling me I’m going to die all the same
As those rotting roos lying in the dirt
Sodomised by cars just like mine
Their pink, esoteric entrails getting pecked out
By the crows I call my friends
GL Thompson Mar 2019
Bob Dylan’s hats mean more to me than a requited lust for fame.
On our screens over the summer months,
with it’s logo slapped obnoxiously onto the water cooler -
covering more pressing concerns.
As people rant and rave, the so called stars of the show are prominent for a matter of days.
In their fifteen minutes of fame they become better recognised than a man called Dave.
Some are hated for things they have said or done.
trending on twitter and being memed from day one.
But as the winter solace rolls into place
Everyone forgets the familiar face
that pranced and clapped on morning TV
What was his name again who was he?
What once was a Dave is more like a Huxley or Mort.
He was far too easy to replace, when fame hit abort.
GL Thompson Feb 2019
I’m starting to think she may have died
gone up to blue tick heaven after being verified
Caught up in a mockery of an internet led democracy
World wide fame to blame for the tragedy
Her Tightened grip on reality was merely a saga of concise works of fiction.


She tried to Reach out for profanity and found a hundred degrees reality.
Well It all means nothing to nobody now
Here comes latest trend you’d be mad not to bow.

Been inactive for days lost track of the newest craze
Whilst her exploits were insightful
They ultimately led to her downfall
Spin the wheel line up to play the game
Because nobody remembers your name
Only your handle.

I’m starting to think maybe she lost her mind
all of the tape unravelled when she tried to hit rewind.
There was no filter there when she opened the window to look outside
without the second source she was unable to decide
she went offline to go backpacking in the sky I wonder why?
It all seems so alternate
With her curtains drawn at the break of dawn it seems so analogue.
She had a shockproof phone case but I can’t say the same for her mind
GL Thompson Feb 2019
Gary met Sally for some backseat bingo
because she’s the lucky one that razzed his berry.
The word from the bird is that she’s past her prime
The sort of girl whose personality is cheap chocolate and wine.

He greeted her with gimme some skin
She thought it was too formal of a way to begin.
Because sally still lives in the past
Sharing chain posts on facebook
To keep her from things in the dark
Sally’s a bit backwards but she’s well meaning at heart.

You’ve got to make it to this party it’s gonna be a gas
Sally said she’ll think about it, but really she just wanted to pass.
She’s got ice cream in the freezer and an appointment with the mad hatter
(with a special appearance from his twirling tip).

Gary looked rather gloomy, realising she looked quite different from her profile.
That, and he thought the way she chewed was vile.
Nevertheless he thought he’d place his bet on a submarine race.
He reckoned for the price of lunch and a bit of sweet talk, he’d be left with a smile on his face.

Sally was blind to Gary’s plan
She was off in training as a space cadet
Thinking this date was quickly becoming an experience she’d forget
But back on earth things started to pick up
Unlike Sally’s self esteem, which was left in a rut.

And to this day Gary and Sally are married, with a kid, a cat and a shared checking account.
here I have used a combination of out of fashion sayings with 21st century issues in order to convey a duality and a reflection upon today's society
Chris Lazzaro Feb 2019
Upon that bench he gently sit
A cigarette in hand, Two-Liter in fist.
A local legend he is, to all around,
All know his name, in and out of town

Billy wears clothes from a Goodwill basket
Stone washed jeans, a torn flannel jacket
His face, red from the biting cold
And hair matted, grey, and old

His journeys, repetitive and often short  
From his bench to the local corner store
Where he finds crisp Marlboro cartons
And a two liter with the Coke label on it

Accomplished, he ventures back to the bench
His walk, fixated and shuffling on the cement
Hugging his soda as if a newborn
Many snicker with scorn

“his deeds are worthless and few,
Sitting, watching, waiting...nothing new”
“Lazy,” they say, “he nary lift a finger all day!”
“Why should we have to work hard and pay?”

Billy knows what everyone thinks
But continues to sit, smoke, and drink
He does what he pleases, regardless of “cost”
Knowing that he is a legend, merely in his own thoughts
Atoosa Jun 2018
Even before our first date
You make sure we have The Conversation  
Heaven forbid I should mistake you for a man of honor
That I should have any expectation....
That you know how to treat me
As a friend .....or a lover
As a woman of substance
A lady not a *****


Your immaturity doesn’t surprise me
But until that moment that you showed your hand
I was willing to suspend my disbelief
To give you the benefit of the doubt
To let you set the bar higher
But you succeeded in lowering my expectations
Even further
Seeking a REAL MAN. Open heart, available future, ready for something true and awesome. Players and half-hearted daters need not apply. Bring the fire or go elsewhere looking for your fun cuddle bunny.....not to sound jaded. I'm not bitter. I'm just NOT wasting my time on manboys because I believe REAL MEN are out there and I want to find mine.
a noble
dap in
Naples note
his fascination
was joint
and drew
the line
with paint
but her
****** will
batch his
tweed jacket
furthest along
the map
that she'd
wed post
modern here
a post modern dap in Italy
Angela Liyanto Sep 2018
k, let’s go!
     Kanye told us to leave Radiohead behind and after class Josh
     will buy scotch
     The hound in our area won’t bother us no more.

****,
    
      Nah she’s a dude, chill

Aight, let’s go!
     We have Bluetooth,
     We have Post Malone and Bernie Sanders still rite?

Adeleine's letter will eventually find its way to his post,

k, let’s go!
     Video games are a virtue.
     Mr Hoffman, science teacher,
     nearly scored a goal on Tuesday,
     he's so...[[lit.]]

Watch here:
     Tv anime girl with candy butchered by a man-turned-robot...

"The parcel came in two days early for you Joe," mum said

Juniors flee to-

Enough, let’s go!
    Boy lovers; ily lovers
    Everyone dreams of Dumbledore's palace, his poetry breaks our
    hearts,

                                                          *

­Kanye’s gig went bam bam dilla bam
                               Bam dilla bam bam
Josh died of liver failure at 54.
The hound came back, limping in the grass,
The girl-boy became depressed.
Joe slept with Adeleine.
The boys got married in 2026,
Mr Hoffman cried w a book that night. &
The juniors ran away from home.
Experimenting with language in hopes to find a new language. I wanted to capture, not the entirety of the teen, but the essence of him/her.
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