Cannot Wall The Will Of Catapulting Mice
A titled unwritten poem requiring
little effort to dip and dive
I accidentally, inadvertently,
and unexpectedly scrolled up in digital archive
among various and sundry literary endeavors,
eh, maybe about a bajillion and five,
in various stages of completion kept alive
on life support, and one non entitled migrant idea,
that unwaveringly, incessantly, dost connive
clamorously, cetera doth buzz inside my head
(aswarm like angry bees in a hive)
constitutes how ("FAKE") president Trump
emits asynchronous vibe that dost not to jive
with best interests of American people even Ivy
League scholars found yours truly ruminating,
how mine "avid groupies",
would deem to warrant duct taping
me whole body, asper drive
ving figurative written wedge, sans
my blunt opinion against commander in chief,
subsequently finding me literally diced,
hashed, minced, et cetera as an endive
or more palatable onion's relative chive
into a million little pieces,
thus better angles with me strongly advised
(along with voice of Robert Mueller) best to arrive
at less controversial topic, hence I will strive
even if blindly chased by Farmer's wive
to express (with rhyme,
but no reason), and douse
or simply avoid trumpeting, scathing,
flickr ring potential conflagration
reject as acceptable carouse
zing which resultant virtual wildfire,
would most likely lack adequate Whitehouse
funds to extinguish, this phrase
e'en thee spouse
would elicit, and expect
no readers to grouse
finding your truly making
bee line to dormouse
which doubles up (at least
for this poem) as cathouse
captivated by entertaining antics
of common house mouse
(Mus musculus), a rather mundane
alternative fur this louse,
yet I (Stuart Little)
attest tubby powerhouse
as one athletic creature
among mice and men
able to leap over tall blocks of cheese
in a single bound, ease
zee as...app pull pie by jeeves,
or prayerfully taking wing
yup...even within the uber jungle of Belize
ideally on heels of strong breeze
even on command staying stock still
if asked to freeze
for a selfie while juggling...please
do not distract, no...no..no...
without question do not dangle keys
and if shivering with cold
avoid knocking knees
so me and nest of pestiferous pals
can earn opportunity to earn fame
and fortune nothing to sneeze
at...at...at...chew, and
contract deadly disease.
-
Author:
rew4er2nail (
Offline) - Published: January 20th, 2019 11:46
- Category: Humor
- Views: 7
Offline)
Comments1
wow! this one has me speechless.
upon re: reading the poem (of mine) that generated such a buzz feed, a rash of question marks popped, snapped, and crackled with this noggin aware of more ambiguity now versus how crystal clear with intended purpose the freshly posted endeavor yesterday.
without fail, try as I might to clarify some elusive idea (like trying to catch a tiger -- other than Tony -- by the tail not advisable) invariably, usually when somebody comments (asper yourself), an immediate curiosity arises.
perhaps what found her/him spellbound (i.e. conglomeration of jumbled words,) at second, third, forth...reviewing by this author, an immediate urge arises to utter cow wah bung ga!
what in tarnation (feel free to substitute your own choiest expletive) did this papa mean, and most likely either daughter, who (if forced to read without rhyme or reason), would most likely be less liberal with their praise.
this civil, decent, erudite fellow continuously reminds himself to restrain releasing (this, that, or some other feeble effort at lofty unilingual expression) until some adequate amount of time after completion, cuz bitta bing...bitta bang, some glaring embarrassment stands out like a sore thumb!
if the impetuousness to broadcast (albeit electronically) a literary endeavor cannot be reined in (mud deer), the next best suggestion santa tee clause infiltrates this (harmlessly psycho ill logical) chap to scrutinize more assiduously any subsequent crafted wordy creation.
no doubt, each of us happens to be our (totally tubular) worst critic, and the laudable unsolicited feedback inadvertently finds me re-evaluating diligently as possible each effortless poem or prose before pressing the send button.
even if absolute bonafide genuine heartfelt motive sprung from within (positivity ye delivered), this reply acknowledges the unwitting necessity for these eyes of mine (myopic and brown if curious) to be more circumspect upon sharing concoction of webbed and whirled words across the wide universe of cyberspace.
adieu...good day.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.