at last- its 3:06 am and im almost done
You’re probably asking yourself why you haven’t seen a lot of poetry from this fabled poet Ben Alexandro I betcha thought I gave up writing all together. I Think Not!! So here they come. I am putting the final touches on now: my latest and bestest work. 4 original sonnets months in the making with all new features such as:
grammar and spelling correctiveness.
jam packed meter and story telling in 14 lines.
hidden meaning galore
crazy amounts of poeticness
new feature: rhyme schemes
An astounding volta in every sonnet
so without father a due, I give to you the first of these sonnets
Profile Prescription
I jitter, into the bathroom to pinch a small beige pill.
“NV RR 30” it says smiling at me.
TAKE 1 CAPSULE DAILY to supplement your will
Mornings with water, I Swallow: Focus. Reality.
Leave the others, oblong with grins, in their salmon plastic cage.
Push down; they rustle and whisper, (No children) Close clockwise.
Concentration. Motivation. Asphalt and résumés I now engage.
Fingers calm. Heart quicken. Breath slow. Chin tilt. Narrow eyes.
I am better, this I know. Pacing lab coats tell me so.
I’m a spark that strayed from the fire. Maybe I’m glad I’m forsaken
from the tight orbits of flames drowning in each other’s glow.
Beyond the flickering dome, eyes might adjust to the night’s glen.
I may even see, fire flies wandering through the trees.
But each morning I swallow, smile, and say, “NV RR 30”
I certify that this is my own work bitches
grammar and spelling correctiveness.
jam packed meter and story telling in 14 lines.
hidden meaning galore
crazy amounts of poeticness
new feature: rhyme schemes
An astounding volta in every sonnet
so without father a due, I give to you the first of these sonnets
Profile Prescription
I jitter, into the bathroom to pinch a small beige pill.
“NV RR 30” it says smiling at me.
TAKE 1 CAPSULE DAILY to supplement your will
Mornings with water, I Swallow: Focus. Reality.
Leave the others, oblong with grins, in their salmon plastic cage.
Push down; they rustle and whisper, (No children) Close clockwise.
Concentration. Motivation. Asphalt and résumés I now engage.
Fingers calm. Heart quicken. Breath slow. Chin tilt. Narrow eyes.
I am better, this I know. Pacing lab coats tell me so.
I’m a spark that strayed from the fire. Maybe I’m glad I’m forsaken
from the tight orbits of flames drowning in each other’s glow.
Beyond the flickering dome, eyes might adjust to the night’s glen.
I may even see, fire flies wandering through the trees.
But each morning I swallow, smile, and say, “NV RR 30”
I certify that this is my own work bitches