mud dream dud fumble and shark spark spit
Nude intro
the dude spins smoke
to soak up the druid drama
it's a science of glue or fluid going into karma
new intro - cut,
paste, click, type, realign margins,
hold the presses,
fold the document, is it H T M L ?
Who writes in guesses?
Where is he going with this?
Bloody hell.
He's swearing now Mom and I missed the reason and the rhyme.
Do we find bliss?
Send me a sign.
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Sum up the evidence,
poetry is many guerrilla guesses,
hope for a theme, these sleazy poets don't know squat,
they ramble, they flirt with words and "worthy" themes, so profound,
Where is he going with this?
The sound of a mind trapped in a mud fumble, a truck running on tracks,
no facts,
just muck.
Hey!
This joker is pressing his luck.
This waffle is just vague impressions,
go get a job, Smart Aleck writer,
go with the flow, you know.
Go with God.
Go, just go,
the door slams, the stage is empty,
we have found something odd.
The stage lights dim,
there is empathy in the audience and apathy too,
I do seem to always wind up criticising you,
my but you have big teeth,
what lies beneath
this collection of pastry pastel past tense portal pictures?
All the better to eat you with?
Fairy tales and Discount SALES.
The brain strange
the dream arranged with the script dropped,
the actors know their lines,
where four Art thou Romeo? The director groans.
The strain shows on the faces,
a play needs a plot,
a poem needs a what?
In the place of a theme the betrayal of trust?
Strong castles crumble to dust.
Stop stammering! Spit it out!
There is No TIME For DOUBT!
No time for stuttering in the mud!
You are a dud !
(this is rude).
Introduction nude -
Sharks circle and anger parks its harsh glare on my flimsy construct.
My open door asks for
Your MIND
not blind faith in poetry,
not a song of sparks barking in some music hall
not a merry band of men bending rules, or women revolutionaries cool,
the words fall
onto the page
silent words on a silent stage
nothing here but words unclear
a stupid hum mumble dud fumble looking for an idea,
don't grab that hair pin bend by the skin of its teeth,
what lies beneath?
We're going in circles! Stop the car!
I don't care for this.
We're not going anywhere,
we have no bliss.
How far do you think you can fool them?
What a dud poem.
Sorry sir and ma'am.
(Why is he standing there talking to himself? Is he okay?)
The fraud is revealed
- it's all a sham.
Nothing to say,
an empty stage,
an empty tank
we've run out of gas,
run out of spark,
the engine is making noises,
the car is parked.
The poet tried to jump the shark.
Hollywood never would think it good,
and that's the best back handed compliment yet.
Plaster cast sets melting in the rain
explain where a vast cast once stood
playing with light and shadows
like a poet with a fortune to spend.
Buddy, can you lend me a dime?
Buddy, nobody has time
to read poetry.
Get a real job,
Bud.
the dude spins smoke
to soak up the druid drama
it's a science of glue or fluid going into karma
new intro - cut,
paste, click, type, realign margins,
hold the presses,
fold the document, is it H T M L ?
Who writes in guesses?
Where is he going with this?
Bloody hell.
He's swearing now Mom and I missed the reason and the rhyme.
Do we find bliss?
Send me a sign.
Make Money from home!
Loans Given without references! Get EASY Money TODAY!
Sum up the evidence,
poetry is many guerrilla guesses,
hope for a theme, these sleazy poets don't know squat,
they ramble, they flirt with words and "worthy" themes, so profound,
Where is he going with this?
The sound of a mind trapped in a mud fumble, a truck running on tracks,
no facts,
just muck.
Hey!
This joker is pressing his luck.
This waffle is just vague impressions,
go get a job, Smart Aleck writer,
go with the flow, you know.
Go with God.
Go, just go,
the door slams, the stage is empty,
we have found something odd.
The stage lights dim,
there is empathy in the audience and apathy too,
I do seem to always wind up criticising you,
my but you have big teeth,
what lies beneath
this collection of pastry pastel past tense portal pictures?
All the better to eat you with?
Fairy tales and Discount SALES.
The brain strange
the dream arranged with the script dropped,
the actors know their lines,
where four Art thou Romeo? The director groans.
The strain shows on the faces,
a play needs a plot,
a poem needs a what?
In the place of a theme the betrayal of trust?
Strong castles crumble to dust.
Stop stammering! Spit it out!
There is No TIME For DOUBT!
No time for stuttering in the mud!
You are a dud !
(this is rude).
Introduction nude -
Sharks circle and anger parks its harsh glare on my flimsy construct.
My open door asks for
Your MIND
not blind faith in poetry,
not a song of sparks barking in some music hall
not a merry band of men bending rules, or women revolutionaries cool,
the words fall
onto the page
silent words on a silent stage
nothing here but words unclear
a stupid hum mumble dud fumble looking for an idea,
don't grab that hair pin bend by the skin of its teeth,
what lies beneath?
We're going in circles! Stop the car!
I don't care for this.
We're not going anywhere,
we have no bliss.
How far do you think you can fool them?
What a dud poem.
Sorry sir and ma'am.
(Why is he standing there talking to himself? Is he okay?)
The fraud is revealed
- it's all a sham.
Nothing to say,
an empty stage,
an empty tank
we've run out of gas,
run out of spark,
the engine is making noises,
the car is parked.
The poet tried to jump the shark.
Hollywood never would think it good,
and that's the best back handed compliment yet.
Plaster cast sets melting in the rain
explain where a vast cast once stood
playing with light and shadows
like a poet with a fortune to spend.
Buddy, can you lend me a dime?
Buddy, nobody has time
to read poetry.
Get a real job,
Bud.