#prolific
into the groove
covering eons
light years
to forever.
Feb 16
Feb 16, 2026 at 4:38 AM UTC
My own Personal Playground of Persistent Pandemonium
Pisssing People off Passionately,
Playing more than just a Part in their Problem
Picking Particular Pieces to Pack this Prolific Poem
Pulling off a Perfectly Perceived Premise
Until your Placement becomes your Permissive Prison
Poetic justice, I've got a Poetic license,
Permitting Primitive Primate like Procedures
Possible only because Perplexed Principles Prematurely, albeit Permanently, Pick Pungent Practices
Primarily Planning Precarious Peril, Priming Painful Predicaments
Publishing Print on Paper
Pent-up Paranoia Pushing Profane Prophecies
Probably Protruding Past Popular Perception
Preventing Pint sized Pea brains from Polluting People who Ponder their Planetary Purpose instead of Perfection
Parallel Planes Pairing Probable Permissive Propaganda
Providing Precision on Par with Polaroid Picture Panorama
This Pricey Psyche showing Persistence Prevails
But can't Press Pause
So Please hear my Plea,
Pretty Please,
Permit me the Power to Permanently Purge the Piercing Pain
To Ponder no longer the Placated Pointlessness of the Puzzle and Put away Pandora's box
To Promptly Procure my Place beyond Purgatory
As Promised
©2024
Apr 4, 2024
Apr 4, 2024 at 2:20 PM UTC
I think in poems,
drink deep sounds,
smell bright colors,
untie the bound.
I touch the notes...
they ripple in the air.
Taste the pain .....
no qualms no care.
I orchestrate a silent fugue,
two voices never heard.
Pen it all inside my book
then read it to my bird.
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 6:28 AM UTC
Johnny Johnny Johnny
tell me it isn't so
another rant another rave
crafted well, yes, I know
Is that an octopi?
or mayhap a cuttle
lines I see, that multiply
and not for just a little
I thought myself prolific
I thought I cornered words and worlds
but reading you, I know it's true
a better flag
unfurled
Mar 6, 2018
Mar 6, 2018 at 2:30 PM UTC
I'm guessing prolific, is not to strong a word
Handing out the prose, not always clear, or blurred
Spewing of rhymes, and a vomiting of style
Some of it quite good, most of it, quite vile
The cliche's are repetitive, and often over used
Stay with me awhile, walking in my shoes
Ignore as you see fit, all the bad humor and lines
Selecting only the best, forgiving all past, and future crimes
As you would from apples, pick the ones that shine
Enduring is the flavor, casting pearls afore the swine
Peruse the sentiments , but keep your wits held tight
Reading all contentions, even if, none of them are right
Simply can't help myself, a compulsion I won't fix
Just another ****** poem, from my wordy bag of tricks
It doesn't matter, if garnering comments or likes, you see
My words not put here for you, but murdered here, for me
Nov 28, 2017
Nov 28, 2017 at 11:49 AM UTC
There once was a presumptuous poet
Who thought his poems were the best ever wrote,
He was quite prolific,
Thought he was terrific,
But he never wrote anything of note!
Mar 23, 2017
Mar 23, 2017 at 8:46 AM UTC
This is the five thousand four hundred and sixtieth poem I have written
And I'm not close to done
I'm having too much fun
I can be the daylight under the sun
I write every day to keep my thoughts clear
Many of them are about some sweet dear
But many others are about loneliness and fear
This is not the end
You can achieve this as well
Even when everything is not swell
You must try.
I almost lost all hope in myself before I took up this hobby of mine
I've made best use of my precious time
Being confused on how to rhyme
Instead of who has the best drama
I took up this hobby and never looked back
I became a newbie poet and into today I think I still am
But the point is
I made a commitment
To be a writer
So I made every day a chance to be something greater than before
I don't regret a single second
I'm a published poet
But will I ever be the best?
I don't think I stand a chance
But that's just me talking.
It's really up to the great readers out there to decide.
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 12:44 AM UTC
Your love is like a still birth, so much hope, with so much disappointment and despair. When you see what it really is, something beautiful destroyed, You will never get the memory from your mind.Something you will always remember. Something you can still see the potential in, but the thought just bring sorrow. such excruciating pain you can not help to replay in your head. No ambivalence, Prolific strain on your existence. wishing you still had, and yet hoping it never existed
Apr 17, 2015
Apr 17, 2015 at 3:33 AM UTC
A new pilgrimage takes place
A new solid rock
I'm not very prolific
But my friend's a clock
I tried to let you down
I was magnificent
Nothing tastes like satin or silk cause
All I have is lace
Now my apples are sour
And I'm missing a flower
But at least I've got the stem
It's fire in the kiln
Liquor store of alcohol
Lead me to die on the wall
Another unimportant speck of carbon
All he is
Is sobbin'
Let the fruit of the garden
Polish your life
Won't you just trust the warning
Please, please pardon
If I'm a little boring
My friend Dave
And My brother Davey
Both went to Navy
Both died trying to save me
If you think you know me then
Listen to the birds
They will tell you everything
That I can't with words
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 3:14 PM UTC