Elusive pursuit endeavoring to craft a great poem

rew4er2nail

I (analogous to a rolling stone)
confess, no deliberate intent, yet often wonder
what spurs me to nudge, goad, coax, et cetera

semblance of reasonable poetic rhyme
despite modesty regarding

ably linkedin words for others to ponder

more often than not experiencing nonresponder,
nevertheless share mine writing
with folks cyberspace out yonder

or aliens occupying
beyond the pale of outer limits
amidst the twilight zone,
where dark shadows

looming near the edge of night
hint of spooky forebodings.

 

Without lofty literary ambitions,
more so stream

of consciousness abandonment,
yours truly rests content

to cobble, gamble, noodle... courtesy

swifty tailored stylishly harried element

mild mannered modest gent

bumbling along boulevard of
broken (po' whet) dreams intent

far less superman than Clark Kent

 

exercising mental cogs and wheels meant

merely to liberate momentary overconfident

zealous spontaneous inspiration,

albeit ordinarily quiescent

ex post facto concluding

equals time most salient

direct object lesson learned
lame, insipid, feeble resultant
effort generates undercurrent

aghast how rapid

(think lightspeed) went.

 

Yours truly his own worst critic ad aware

how avast mein kampf replete with bare

inducent to tap into latent fledgling clear

propensity to express creatively, I declare

bonafide potential to join pantheon excelsior

reserved for established authors within their
respective canon, genre, league...,

nonetheless an obvious flair

seemed evident perhaps coalesced

when in utero biological gear

 

yielded wiggly, ugly, scrawny,
quirky Harris heir

(sole son and second of three offspring)

an older and younger sister,

which introverted brother bullies
did constantly jeer

token scapegoat suffered
one after another kingly leer

pushing psychological state near
precipice off into dock side of moon,

 

who sought
(wharf far art grim reaper) to pier

without naked qualm evincing
one very bony rear

without sympathy for the devil
merely spells severely
pockmarked psyche therefore

impossible mission to set tattered self esteem

tacked toward in opposite direct where

dark shadow of doubt doth not veer

me into apathetic, horrific, pathetic...
suicidal mental state of yesteryear.

 

  • Author: rew4er2nail (Offline Offline)
  • Published: July 31st, 2023 11:37
  • Category: Spiritual
  • Views: 0
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors




To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.