"unstately" poems
Nailbed, hot stone.
A simmering anger, old.
Heavy.
Some battling debate of
loss thrown away.
A small, gray key.
Join them on a ring and
give back, give back, give back.
See now, new currents drag my pennies.
Down.
I'm an octopus penning idiocy.
The counter, brown.
Such a small counter.
But this small key, so heavy to give away.
Is it loss or thrown away?
If so, who did it?
Mind never grasped the sorrow,
the secrets, hid in serpent of glimmered italics
and windfalls left fractured for years
rediscovered in haste of other dilemmas.
Ok, it'll be three dollars (and a bit).
That's all it took a heart to turn.
Ashen walks and stale apple pie,
unstately promise.
It needn't rhymy.
I have no more timey.
Another chunk of sanity slides
(and that bit).
Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 11:38 AM UTC
they're situated in a heaven
more commonly known
as the trolling estate
at this infamous piece of property
they dream up
an inordinate
amount of quasi accounts
which they use in an
alternate fashion
to harass and outrageously torment
they who hold but one
solo account
these ego driven allotments
aren't worthy of due
consideration
we should on them be showering
the language of severest
condemnation
it is very clear to see
that the trolls have little to do
with their ever vacuous
time
but sit at a computer screen
and bedevil the poet community
like an unconscionable
chime
they rear their multiple heads
to habitually
******
in such an unstately
manner of
zest
Feb 13, 2018
Feb 13, 2018 at 5:40 PM UTC