"plura" poems
Occam's Razor blades burn through the air
around us.
Because You blush when you laugh.
Because I pay attention when I joke.
Obvious.
So ********* obvious.
Because I swell to see you,
and you meet me among the clouds.
Frustra fit per plura quod potest fieri per pauciora
Obvious.
I can't tell you. I've told you a million times.
But it's too hard to say it right.
The words are difficult.
I love you like a religion.
I worship you with the devotion of the faithful.
I know, the atheist claims faith.
I love you like the spot behind the
living room recliner that a dog hides
behind during a thunderstorm.
I love you like a thunderstorm.
I love you with the depth of an
Irish song about heartbreak.
I don't know how to do anything else.
Because you blush when you laugh.
Because I notice.
Because I...
Obvious.
So ******* obvious.
Sep 23, 2011
Sep 23, 2011 at 12:16 AM UTC
Many words, so many words, are passing through this place.
Broken latin, mesonic virtues, old english lymricks,
ancient jewish pronuciation fliting phenomenal prosody.
Life as all the proper words begin to shape this grandly
generous thought of commendation. Roots, roods, rudentary
lauded buy more spies. The plura, fauna, Jane Does and Rae Me's,
fosil laute... prose.
En angle', in english, Angles and Jutes, as the rapier, pugio gladius,
a bloodless synopsis, a canon, feathered conical lye.
Sui-hsing chide us naught for German and German's is to Chinese is Tzun Zoo Choo Yen see. Their angels roll away stones, here men open doors, women pointe out stars to fight the bold, Oui Ye.
Write two poems at once, or lie. Write three poems at once, or lie.
Oh, yea we write three...
poethree. Oui Ye, Oye yea, O thee poets... we right thee.
Austerity, Whiterby, Bastoniwa,... Red Socks and resident bee.
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May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 1:00 AM UTC