#tiresomeselfpromoters
Little dull birdies . . .
Love own songs by mirror pond,
. . . Graceful swan sails by.
Hello Poetry . . .
Rube lords with simple vainness,
Watch him crown himself.
Hello Poetry . . .
Day sullies night, bright vanity
. . . Rube is a poser.
Hello poetry . . .
Even vain rube's bio drains,
Spews self promotion.
Here is Pantheon . . .
Dabblers, self aggrandizers,
. . . What a hollow hall.
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 1:08 AM UTC
Little dull birdies . . .
Love own songs by mirror pond,
. . . Graceful swan sails by.
Hello Poetry . . .
Rube lords with simple vainness,
Watch him crown himself.
Hello Poetry . . .
Day sullies night, bright vanity
. . . Rube is a poser.
Hello poetry . . .
Even vain rube's bio drains,
Spews self promotion.
Here is Pantheon . . .
Dabblers, self aggrandizers,
. . . What a hollow hall.
Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 11:06 PM UTC
*Loudest ones getting
Golden rings are lost to them
Shouts in a tin can*
Jun 10, 2015
Jun 10, 2015 at 10:45 PM UTC
.
Words, so many words,
****** of meaning—
Flailed at admirers,
So much pulp and filth
On the ****** page—
O how the vain can spill
Blood in an ocean drained
Of salt, in a vast vacuum
Of listeners who only
Aspire to sully themselves.
Is there meaning in followers,
Deaf, drinking in a whine?
Are the stars only gaudy dots
To spill on a black canvass?
The feigned, would be human
Stars fall in the cold, reigning
Drivel of wet, grey words,
That dry in the sand box desert.
Spare us the shallow veins,
The caved insights—
Of your shadows.
Nov 15, 2014
Nov 15, 2014 at 5:49 PM UTC