Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#sindheim
the worldly swirling reverberating, whirlpool whirling, the To Do list, issuing senior commands, and the poetry dieting and exercise regime is muffled, though notes and promises atomizing, ideas and excitations, on the cardboard backs of yellow pads jotted, on menus for Chinese and Indian incantations, assembled in their own corner reservoir, nonetheless and all the more, no births recorded, no spawn of the dawn, product of mid of night illegal ramblings by the East River none achieve a hallelujah *********** and the pile of drafts messy are assorted and distorted in their own corner of the white writing desk, stillborn lay, or more accurately they cry out pained: "no, no, still to be born!" "not yet dead!" "permanent gestation is not a destination" and other survivor slogans, and mind and body bloated with need to ex and to in hale them, to let the healing compounding components of new compositions see a glorious Mayday morn of a steady streaming of howling babies, and all agree, look at you, look at me, look at this 5 minutes sassy essay on your lassoed status, now force the door ajar and let the nightlight lead you to dawn, deliver us, satisfy out our cravings, make us wholesome and then, with a sacred finishing wand waving of blessed Hallelujah Amen! Selah! now get to work, *** of coffee witches brew, knock off the stalling, Sondheim humming, crying out a ****** recognition, "*send in the clown, no more; maybe next year, too late, I'm here...*" 4:07 ~ 4:25am May One 2025
0
May 1, 2025
May 1, 2025 at 9:43 AM UTC
the mini vacation
the worldly swirling reverberating, whirlpool whirling, the To Do list, issuing senior commands, and the poetry dieting and exercise regime is muffled, though notes and promises atomizing, ideas and excitations, on the cardboard backs of yellow pads jotted, on menus for Chinese and Indian incantations, assembled in their own corner reservoir, nonetheless and all the more, no births recorded, no spawn of the dawn, product of mid of night illegal ramblings by the East River none achieve a hallelujah *********** and the pile of drafts messy are assorted and distorted in their own corner of the white writing desk, stillborn lay, or more accurately they cry out pained: "no, no, still to be born!" "not yet dead!" "permanent gestation is not a destination" and other survivor slogans, and mind and body bloated with need to ex and to in hale them, to let the healing compounding components of new compositions see a glorious Mayday morn of a steady streaming of howling babies, and all agree, look at you, look at me, look at this 5 minutes sassy essay on your lassoed status, now force the door ajar and let the nightlight lead you to dawn, deliver us, satisfy out our cravings, make us wholesome and then, with a sacred finishing wand waving of blessed Hallelujah Amen! Selah! now get to work, *** of coffee witches brew, knock off the stalling, Sondheim humming, crying out a ****** recognition, "*send in the clown, no more; maybe next year, too late, I'm here...*" 4:07 ~ 4:25am May One 2025
Continue reading...
47