Tuesday, 11 November 2014
One Tragic Poet For The Admiring Damsel
this poem is on the tip of the tongue of the quill of these keys
this blank migraine screen taunts its winking bar at me
blinking and taunting my flapping imaginings
this blank migraine screen
a white-inked haiku lost in the snow
metaphorically speaking obviously
a molehill visionary
a pedestrian bewildered
like an empty wine bottle in a tea-total country
like an alanis morissettian simile about irony
it's like a poem when all you need is a pizza
it's like a rabbi wishing an imam happy easter
it's like a terrible lyric writer trapped on the moon in june
it's like a vaccum cleaner sucking into a dirty vacuum
but you outta know it's not like getting a blow job in a hospital theatre
or any kind of theatre for that matter
don't you think
don't read another's poetry my muse
allow yourself to bask in my enlightenment
adjust your wispy gossamer attire
twirl your tinkling hair through your delicate fingers
admire my downcast ruffling eyelashes
sparkling with the tortured bard's unforgiven tears
lay beside me as I read my new work
I'm a daffodil, I'm lonely, I'm wandering -
A daffodil wandering like a candle wanders in the wind -
on a hill
like a cake baking in the rain.
Isn't that so simple to see?
Why don't you understand me?
I'm a daffodil wandering, figuratively speaking, not literally,
Like a candle on a cake in the wind melting in the rain,
Like a train pulling something quite profane.
I thought we are all the same.
oh even if i say so myself
that first verse is phenomenal
and in one drafting too
what an exceptional poet i am
a first verse jam-packed with all the poetry goodliness
similies metaphors wikipedia
figurative imagery and allusion
sadness to suffering
elegance and originality
lashings of pathos
a sprig of madness
all invoking empathy and eroticised abandonment in you lucky lady
my musk never stills
cuddle closer damsel
we could have bliss for the next two minutes
four if you're really lucky
succumb my lovely
but first i must roll up my sleeves
this second verse won't write itself
blink your adoring gaze at me
i rock you see..
I'm a candle wandering not unlike a cake,
Now in the sea -
A cake in the sea,
Like an invertibrate - possibly indubitably, absolutely.
I'm a man, a daffodil, a cake, a train,
I'm a Maya Angelou poem,
Flooding in all the seas soaking in the rain,
But all in the wrong way.
A fistful of fish,
Don't be sexist.
I'm every shrimp yearning to be free.
Most women can't handle me,
Like a tree, green policy.
There's the door,
There's nuclear war.
Oh how nice:
No trees anymore, and no more of my poetry.
Now what kind of a world would that be?
oh wow i'm cooking now
this could well be my magnum opus
fetch me a silken cloth my damsel
wipe my glistening fevered brow
i musn't dither or slumber
well not yet
verse three throbs inside me like a sagacious vegan..
Nuclear war used to be bad.
I say we've been had.
Aren't we all tragic cakes left out in the windy rain,
Aren't we all daffodils wandering -
Wandering and wondering, running,
Like bewildered walruses of warbling pain?
Running under the mushroom,
And where there's wandering daffodils there's pain but no gain.
Isn't that what they say?
lucky damsel stay
why do not run so from my boudoir..
Guitar solo: waah waah waah uuhhhhh
Wave your light sticks:
Poetry class dismissed!