"poetaster" poems
**** me like the ocean would the moon, Dear Amaranthine.
Teach me as you would any abecedarian, slow with pace.
My pallid arms are spread, and feet are crossed.
Crucify me, like one of your French girls.
Your endless frame arched over mine
a vaulting testament to the heat
of your front against my back.
This scene should have been a chapel.
Through hazed musk I can taste the saline
as it tumbles from your dripping brunette tendrils
forming brooks and lagoons the color of flesh
in the glens and about the islands of my spine.
I wish I could write about you in me
while you dance a contemporary beat
ceaseless, indeterminate, untold are
your feats within and upon my person.
For a split moment, seconds shattered in two,
I am completely and totally permeated by you.
I whine for you to vacillate me, I am ******* begging
to be occupied, satiated, by a rhythm akin to the sway of trees.
Love me fast and kiss me slow, Dear Amaranthine.
My palms are red, and feet bloodied, too. I moan.
Call me your poetaster but don't come on my chest;
There's far too much weight there already, my dear.
Mar 20, 2012
Mar 20, 2012 at 1:30 AM UTC
Truly gifted poets
Straddle their crafts early on
Some even in adolescence
They have been cursed or blessed
To be kings and queens of utterance.
I never dreamed of becoming a poet
It was furthest from my mind
Then in a sudden twist of eardrum
It happened in my Mid-thirties.
Out of the recesses of Time
Came the lure and a hook
Shining in enchanted brook
And before i knew it
My heart was snatched
And my movements flustered
When i bit on ambrosiac bait
Drenched in Muse's wine
Drugged and drunk
On sounds and images
I struggled in a pool of words
To assemble what held me infused
To make sense of orphaned views
Swaying between shade and light
Like dancers deprived of audience.
My poetic rapture began
In frenetic rain of ink
preposterous in direction
A poetaster rapt on vapid rhymes
With sounds of poetic crimes
But my craft developed
In piecemeal fashion
And rendered my pen composed.
A minnow of long ago
Has grown into a mackerel
And longs to become a whale
In the ocean Ars Poetica
Though it seems a pipe dream.
Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 1:09 AM UTC
Depression is reading bad poetry
Written by merely dysthymic people
Depression is people which does result in
Hell
Depression is the pain caused by people
Trying, poorly I might add, to articulate what
'Depression means to me'
Depression is tantamount to hunger
Something we all must suffer
Some will starve to death
You, my poetaster chum
Are only late to dinner
The pang will pass
Copyright © 1996-Present
May 14, 2011
May 14, 2011 at 8:21 PM UTC
eetsy eetsy, tiny feetsy
in the attic dark and creepy
who could be there? Looking at me
Is it Procyon Lotor?
He comes watching every winter
will he really dare to enter?
Enter at my chamber door
Seeking mischief as before?
Comes the creature wild of feature
Fuzzy furry in a hurry
looking for me wanting near me
Only this and nothing more
******
Will they hate me and berate me
loving Rhyme the way I do?
Poetaster they will call me
Death, disaster pray befall me
I will be the way I will be
always 'till the end of time so
You can hate me all you want to
You have your way, I'll have mine
Poetry by definition
A highly developed form and
use
of heightened language and rythm
to express an imaginative
interpretation
of the subject
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 3:33 PM UTC
Another mystic poetaster
quoting Rumi...
You might take it personally.
If so, sue me.
I'm not enraptured
by that sufi.
(A nice enough dervish,
but kind of goofy.)
Jul 13, 2017
Jul 13, 2017 at 12:12 PM UTC
trying bad knew day think fight feeling know annoying lying time months tell like sure observe afternoon participant folds pass iron ask realization neck conversation pain poetaster tuesdays busy night lung sake sickness movies gets body reason turns incessantly awakens doesnt ones lifes gnashing try despondency
way pretentious idea cellulite strewn years fallen finally given stomach qualify spectacle necessary watching christ harbinger unconsciously thing girl loose walls unbearable start reach smile needing violent mean slowly engage engaging cell face sung struggle tone shes song cheaply correct contents normally quickly asleep close plea dark personality overly devour actions viscera completely eating list attractive liar power does figured use morning suffer
saving shadowscasting abdomen leave verse sun comfort screaming stay lift forcing worthwhile sleep reciting sets written broken semismiled dysthmically movingriding supp uses help pieces poorly lied reading blunt fine returned groups refractory fiber eyes read word puts say absorb force detach message unnoticed died block clock wish possibly late aghast fear return chum caused daily involve thanks grandmotherly hope unheeded twice starve maya enthusiasm heard hunger comfortableness homeostasis
nauseousness huxtable inflected angelous angelou itll dissipating impress giving lower relent articulate poetry doldrums wise left alot hate cheeks entirety perceived result willing mild speaking concedepretend skin alive shell death tantamount everytime ripping afloat worth adamisdronicus succession press hang jeanpaul speak dysthmic means dinner dreams sobriety bones repeatedly *** pang bc painted reallythat
May 16, 2010
May 16, 2010 at 10:28 PM UTC
Pompous poetaster,
Tireless self promoter,
Wannabe artist.
Oct 14, 2012
Oct 14, 2012 at 8:55 PM UTC
Must be exhausting,
Tireless self promoter,
Spewing his drivel.
Oct 13, 2012
Oct 13, 2012 at 2:28 PM UTC
Depression is reading bad poetry
Written by merely dysthymic people
Depression is people which does result in
Hell
Depression is the pain caused by people
Trying, poorly I might add, to articulate what
'Depression means to me'
Depression is tantamount to hunger
Something we all must suffer
Some will starve to death
You, my poetaster chum
Are only late to dinner
The pang will pass
Apr 27, 2010
Apr 27, 2010 at 6:22 PM UTC
It’s time to fire up my blog
and add to the poetic smog.
Marching thus, to April’s drum
may cause my muse to pause, mid-strum
and harp on my poetic lack
of will toward permanent attack.
Didactic, though, I strive to be;
And write with pure sincerity.
I’ll do my best to rail, and preach
and by such arts, some poor soul reach
assuring them they are not mad
but yes, the world IS worse than bad.
I’m sorry that I lack the power
to versify upon a flower.
(Leave that for some other, later
blithe pathetic poetaster.)
Where’s my muse?
(They must have maced her.)
Apr 4, 2018
Apr 4, 2018 at 7:40 AM UTC
not even good enough to be classed a hack
try poetaster
but making more money than me
and more people reblog all their
juvenile word *****
than they do anyone else’s--
ah, legitimacy has been declared!
shots have been fired!
there it is, ladies and gents
the ultimate arbiter of quality:
the approval of social media!
do please excuse me,
let me go and burn my wings in penance.
may every poet you meet
stab you in the heart with their pen
and if they do not,
send them back in shame and disdain.
RAGE AGAINST THE PALE AND BEIGE.
Nov 21, 2020
Nov 21, 2020 at 1:45 PM UTC
Regarding yours truly
he experienced setback
amplified by Luddite propensity
nostalgic longing for simpler age
bring back horse and buggy
better yet find me a mancave
and/or apprise me
ideally via email
Flintstone web page modality
allowing, enabling, and providing
excellent linkedin access
whereby augmented
and/or augmented reality
telecommunication simulation
delivers, exports, and ferries lame poetaster
to small town America
a place that time forgot and
the decades cannot improve
within which dwell
strong women, good-looking men
and above average children
Wobegon place name
preserving lifestyle
exhibiting voluntary simplicity
though aforementioned fictitious locale
fires up imagination as does
a place called Willoughby
flourishing along outer limits
of twilight zone
buzzfeeding outlier zee
crème de la crème confabulist
this side of Schwenksville
hankering towards... nebulous
body, mind and spirit synchronicity
courtesy sweat of mine brow equity
acquiring alliance, cognizance, existence,
guidance, intelligence...
think **** Proenneke
alone in the wilderness survivalist
jack of all trades
I would live free,
yet nevertheless die
ill equipped to captcha victuals
and/or drink
to stave off hunger
and/or thirst respectively
one twenty first century beastie boy
heavily dependent upon
urbanization, mechanization,
industrialization, civilization
to savor creature comforts
climate controlled environment(s)
courtesy finite fossil fuel extraction
**** sapiens scourge upon planet Earth
me metaphorically on par
one more human parasite
zapping nonrenewable resources
thus desirous (yet helpless)
to forsake consumerist lifestyle
yet lack ways and means
to toil physically
to wrest good n plenti
juicy fruits of labor,
which initial premise
as iterated with poem title
dramatically off tangent, yes?
Aug 14, 2020
Aug 14, 2020 at 9:02 PM UTC
Dire straits necessitated
yours truly to bethink
outside the box (literally outdoors
of squarish structured nested dwelling),
where blinding albedo effect
forced me to blink,
additionally also ruffled tail feathers
of this sole surviving male bobolink
(North American songbird,
Dolichonyx oryzivorus)
pushing survival species
to extinction brink,
thus series of unfortunate events
woke resident chewink
(North American bird,
Pipilo erythrophthalmus
also called: towhee
or ground-robin),
tweeted from within
his cozy armoire *****
polar vortex froze habitat,
whereby arctic wind found
brushy areas to clink
unwittingly brambles ferocious
waving circular rotation
wrought minuscule countersink
eh, no bigger than a cufflink
his ornate bejeweled complex edifice
compliments of sizable income
allowed, enabled, and provided
opportunity in tandem
with significant other
to create acronym named ****
(dual income without kid)
acquiring handsome combined income
rendering and selling stylized goldfinch
also known as distelfink
common motif in
hex signs and fraktur,
which interpretive native folk art
eye state meaningless
without rhyme nor reason,
superfluous gibberish by George,
and/or...well... courtesy
following more purposeless gobbledygook
defying poetaster to incorporate doublethink
intelligently nsync with downlink
playfully, jauntily, and deliberately
creating confounding badinage eyewink
at thee, no doubt many
an anonymous innocent
reader calling me ratfink
under their breath or more
colorful brutal appellation
inducing cheeks of unknown followers
turning fifty plus shades of firepink
moost definitely concurring gink
perfectly apropos description
concluded individually versus
collectively, quickly, and
unanimously i.e. (think) groupthink
I approve this entire message, which
most likely tinders pet peeve,
concluding GoDaddy liberally did hoodwink.
Dec 20, 2019
Dec 20, 2019 at 7:55 PM UTC
After most recent shower,
and particularly washing hair
(then shaking head
analogous to sopping wet dog
drying her/himself after a bath),
I immediately said helloo
to Long lasting fragrance Suave
essentials Daily Clarifying
Deep cleansing Shampoo,
which permeated mine scalp
facilitating healthy follicles.
More so frothy lather upon noggin
after getting rinsed out
yielded bounteous, luscious, luxurious,
and marvelous full bodied tresses
reminiscent when yours truly an adolescent,
a veritable long haired pencil necked geek
whose hirsute trademark
still characterizes atypical sexagenarian
above mentioned characteristic
still (after scores of years)
emblematic of this enigmatic poetaster.
Ever since being in utero
soon after seminal fusion
insync with fallopian tube bearing ova
begot zygote courtesy said gametes,
and engendered silent boom
after piercing zona pellucida
creating microscopic flume,
nevertheless collection of cells
coalescing into embryo
eventually manifesting into yours truly,
I painstakingly took minuscule
comb and brush to groom,
and dreaded most fearfully being locked,
where pair of outsize scissors did loom
threatening to cut thick,
what could best be envisioned analogous
to imperceptible fancy plume
hich features specific feature
drew medical community
(i.e. namely human reproductive specialists)
constituted extensive expanse
within blastocyst very limited room
crowd sourcing out rivaling curious onlookers
formerly geared up
to espy King Tutankhamun's tomb
can you dear reader believe
a hairy globule within the womb
became global attraction
viz - of a young fecund Harriet Harris,
cuz about nine months later
out the birth canal I did zoom.
Dec 15, 2021
Dec 15, 2021 at 7:01 PM UTC
Sitting, picking at split ends,
fishing for volition in the deep end.
Twitching, itching skin past spent;
the Tinkerer's turning pen tips into trenches.
**** twigs, spit bricks til the crypt filled.
Sheer skill, no fill, spare me the semantics.
Hit the bench, kid, kick off the cool kicks.
These royal blue vans be too fierce.
Long live the worms, the devourers of dirt.
Here's to the ones molding the curve.
Your overlord's back, now pass me the torch.
Kick a door down like It's a word I'm after.
Craftier than those rats of Madagascar,
but I'd ditch the laughter, poetaster.
After all, you bow to a master.
Dig deep, DeadBeat's unleashed.
Good grief! His technique is Hulk green.
Guaranteed to knock you off your two left feet.
Whats wrong? Last I checked, talk was cheap.
May 2, 2018
May 2, 2018 at 12:38 AM UTC
Henry Kline Boyer Elementary School
Evansburg, Pennsylvania
circa ~ 1969 ADD:
A(fter) D(umpster) D(diving).
As a Halloween
costume, that fifth year
literally dug up materials,
sans throw away wear
during grade school,
my father got veer
re: brilliant idea
for this sole son,
which found gritty
sanitation crew unclear
but right at home
on animal farm,
and/or role with
pigpen didst share
this original getup cost Peanuts,
but caused a big stink to rear
up dressed depleted oxygen,
and many classmate didst swear
objectionable odor
also induced eyes to tear.
Missus Shaner (the talon
clawed, shriveled queer
looking relic of a dinosaur,
who taught – for near
lee a millennium fifth grade)
gave me - up pair
of gooey (Paraguay)
“FAKE” genuine heir
looms (bone a fide kitchen
middens) artifacts mere
wrack que less originally care
lessly tossed out by
indigenous: Guaraní,
Ayoreo, Toba-Maskoy,
Aché and Sanapan
discovered in present
day capital, dear
lee benevolent holy city
steeped in prayer:
(Nuestra Señora Santa
María de la Asunción).
Authentic “FAKE” Central A mere
reek'n (American) rank
and file putrid bare
lee tolerable plum
rancid rotten ancient
******* handily found
teacher to declare
me the putative winner
since everyone else
passed out from the fetid air.
Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 1:55 PM UTC