#trite
i can
conjurer up words
mix delicate
intricacies of verse
with poetic license
i might defecate
upon scripted genius
of the past
a scourge
on the eloquence
of perfected prose
a pariah
with semantics
that hang in the air
like a frequented noose
the rhetoric of
this rhetoric
both dumbfounds
and delights
the agenda of the learned;
to supress
the syntax spat forth
the phlegm and catarrh
of a gut
of derivatives
i could compose
a verse
for young lovers
to cherish
if i could
only stop
the rot;
genius
nonsense
or ignorance
i couldn't
tell you
which
May 7, 2022
May 7, 2022 at 7:41 PM UTC
Shine on most brilliantly my bold, brave lass
Whine no more over misgiving's past
White robe awaits after crucible's blast.
Write of your struggles to all whom this life batters
Trite experiences included, for your testimony matters.
Dec 10, 2019
Dec 10, 2019 at 3:02 PM UTC
I am told I see my glass half empty
I should see it half full when I look at it
Empty or full either way I see a glass containing ****
Mar 12, 2019
Mar 12, 2019 at 11:15 PM UTC
I re all-ized,
steps still count
You run, when you can.
It is the thought, reason being,
you remember running when you could, but
if you never
did
really,
run like a river,
or the wind,
you can only imagine, and that
is just
and fair.
imagine you knew a persona or
knew an I de ift to the point
of being famous for being so
edgy
about in or un fine it or ite in or e volving
valves, like
vacuum tubes, an
cient sparks tamed in qualesecs to the parsecteth
spec of time/space minus friction
non sense.
sophia her self speaks from shadows in riddles,
and every man, wombed, wounded, or un
every one kisses the sun
with that first
"this is the end of what began forever ago"
then "nope"
and only common sense is left the child
see smell touch taste test hear test touch test
bad good, good was first, but we never notice
we newborn bearers of light's burden.
Who, pray tell, who im magied, mal-praxiologically,
lucifer a name for the accuser?
the shining thing and the bearer of the light that may light
all lamps touched by it,
candles on a cake? means nada, right?
this
little light, of mine,
I'm gonna let it shine.
Ain't agonna let no lie put it out,
I'm gonna let it shine, y'know?
No?
Taste, see, good. Prove me. Try. Same as doing,
if you did it in your heart,
if you imagined, did you
do or try?
Do or die, the old warrior who mocks the liar,
whispers, look'em in the eye. He winks.
Jan 18, 2019
Jan 18, 2019 at 5:52 PM UTC
another ink blotch,
a sentiment in darkness,
timeless.
yet, one you forgot.
just a speck
trying to sound off.
a heart- restless,
learning to let go.
another drip of pen onto paper
and then,
type it up so (they) can murmur
and lie aloud again.
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 8:46 AM UTC
Hmm, perhaps titled,
aye poem already didst aired
though revisiting said theme
downplayed as thoughts blare
though similar con tent
invariably communicated
sans, trademark pi Seine fishtail career
as applies to other questions,
this chap asks himself,
an immense task I dare
unleash unbounded kickstarting euphoria
within psychic calm'n weal
with a healthy dose of logorrhea
scowl unintentionally reader
mine re: noun verbosity doth ensnare
though oft times obfuscation veils merely
a black hole sun (son) prominence
asthma faux eminence gris
long ago didst flare
aware if chance encounter
in a dark alley coal less sing
burning eyes fiercely glare
yet, an explanation
would be proffered to hear
this penchant spurring confabulation
explaining (feebly) zest
yours truly experiences
expatiating honest to dog ness
figuratively go win west
word ** seeking me own mother lode acquired,
via verse a tile materiel undergoing
electric kool aid acid test
incorporating rigorous (mortise
and tenon constructed) adverbial quest
which wondrous, whirled,
and webbed woven semi colon aided nest
reinforced with double entendre
tongue in cheek jest,
whereby multiple interpretations
(ala mode literary splotchy Rorschach test)
tenants in common beau geste
ma own home spun faux
cambridge analytica gimcrackery defaced book best
bite, with absolute zero
data snatched aye evasively attest!
May 28, 2018
May 28, 2018 at 1:33 PM UTC
I wish you'd go away
I'm tired of your voice
I hear it night and day
As though I have no choice
It's been over a year
Since I last saw your face
You looked just like a deer
But I was froze in place
I'm sure you've since moved on
While I dribble out this trite
And my voice is long gone
Like a black cat in the night
Jan 11, 2018
Jan 11, 2018 at 8:55 PM UTC
Black Rose
Black Queen
Black me with my black heart
You think my black clothes are so trite
Because they cant be seen at night maybe
They weren't meant to be seen I keep trying to lay low Its so hard to hide with all this melanin im bound to be spotted
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 12:10 PM UTC
Yes,
it may be a known opinion.
But it has a new form.
Someone that's willing to speak up.
Yes,
it may be a known idea.
But it has been taken into action.
Someone that's willing to do it.
Yes,
it may be a known remark.
But it has been said.
Someone that cares enough to say it.
Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 10:54 PM UTC