"measurably" poems
Adjectives continue
their downward spiral,
with adverbs likely to follow.
Wisdom, grace, and beauty
can be had three for a dollar,
as they head for a recession.
*Diaphanous, filigree,
pearlescent*, and love
are now available
at wholesale prices.
Verbs are still blue-chip investments,
but not many are willing to sell.
The image market is still strong,
but only for those rated AA or higher.
Beware of cheap imitations
sold by the side of the road.
Only the most conservative
consider rhyme a good option,
but its success in certain circles
warrants a brief mention.
The ongoing search for fresh
metaphor has caused concern
among environmental activists,
who warn that both the moon and the sea
have measurably diminished
since the dawn of the Romantic era.
Latter-day prosodists are having to settle
for menial positions in poultry plants,
where an aptitude for repetitive rhythms
is considered a valuable trait.
The outlook for the future remains uncertain,
and troubled times may lie ahead.
Supply will continue to outpace demand,
and the best of the lot will remain unread.
Mar 9, 2014
Mar 9, 2014 at 3:05 PM UTC
Mostly, it sickens me that
our notes sent back and forth are
measurably more pleasant than conversation
We share in person.
I bet that paper lotus is gone.
Interchanged sentence fragments
both homeopathic and calculated by lamplight.
I bet that bookmark is still in the same place.
Even comparing you to Ivan would be a stretch,
Who are we kidding.
Dmitri.
But that’s still not the name I call you ante meridiem.
I bet Freud was right, but I never called myself a boy.
A . Eb. Six steps.
Slonimsky dedicated so many pages to you.
I guess I will distill the Ocean
for salt.
I can’t say any of this to you,
the most honest I’ll ever be
is in a poem I hope you’ll never read.
Nov 29, 2013
Nov 29, 2013 at 10:41 PM UTC
when your mouth opens
and my eyes close,
I cannot tell you who I see
because I am not sure if I am dreaming,
dying, or desperately waiting
for the Hands of God and
the hands of time
to kindly rewind to the point when something tiny,
quite small,
took hold of my blood supply,
when someone measurably loved me
six weeks and four days;
someone I knew less time than I knew
the blood stain before him.
or her. it. a clot.
but it was never that to me. right now
two tiny invisible hands, residing in my residual pain,
the recesses of my mind,
took us, you and I, separate entities now,
and pushed us back:
my eyes brimming with tears, your sighs coercing the silence.
someone's satisfied sky cloud moon sun stars wind earth fire
smile.
laugh.
tears that flooded the ocean where I stand,
reaching for what was once mine.
Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 1:41 AM UTC
Where is 'New Year'
Now?
Where was it then,
When in happened
It went so fast
It didn't last long
And we can't
Remember it now
Anyhow
It didn't last
Long enough
For a song
Or a sigh
Or to say hello
Or goodbye
What's it all about
A burp and a shout
A wonderland
******** wish
For all to be well
With everyone
Measurably
Better than the past
That didn't last
Long enough
For a song
Or a sigh
Or to say hello
Or goodbye
Sean Hunt
Windermere
12:00 am January 1st 2015
New Year's Day
Dec 31, 2015
Dec 31, 2015 at 7:25 PM UTC
Nothing has possibilities
Where did you think
Such impossibilities
Come from?
While
Light and sound
Are measurably
Atomically associated
Possibilities are merely
The potential of dark matter
The matter of nothing
Impossibility
Don’t exist!
Feb 8, 2021
Feb 8, 2021 at 7:03 AM UTC