Is poetry nothing more than the expression
of a morbid narcissism ?
_____________________________
At the funeral of poetry
I sent my parrot .
who knows the customs.
It wears formal habbits
of pumpkin's ritual ...
after the mourners' song,
the marching band
launched into a oompapah requiem .
Absence was holding the hand of dementia
and the lord of flies went off
to collect a few souls for the poor ...
At the lost illusions pub ,
death arrives on the twilight express ,
bringing with it our guilty silences
and moment of forgetfulness...
Scultors of twisted worlds ,
in this lunar chamber
woven from shameful fantasies ,
you will recognize in these decayed words
this vain reflection of your vanity ...
Rag dolls and unloved puppets
sending out announcements into the clouds
which will fall at the foot of an inspired grave
where a distracted poodle will left its paw...
Welcome at the funeral of poetry !
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Author:
lorenz (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: May 15th, 2026 11:12
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 18
- Users favorite of this poem: Carlos Alberto BUSTILLOS, Ellen Marsell, sorenbarrett, Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments3
An eschatological vision of the 'end of art. The grand sacrament of the word has been turned into a "pumpkin ritual," and poets into marionettes. The surreal atmosphere and ironic tone of the poem. I loved it.
Poetry needs rubble to flourish !
Lorenz this poem holds true to the paintings of Bosch with its surreal and twisted images. The metaphors match as well and it was a delight to read. Well done and a fave my friend
Poetry is not dead : It survives only in a spectral state !
Is it beyond the visual spectrum?
Lorenz, I really enjoyed how the poem keeps mocking poetry and artistic vanity while simultaneously creating something vividly poetic from that very critique. That contradiction gives the piece real bite. Love this. A fave for sure. 🖤🙏🌹🕯️🐦⬛
I am sincere in my contradictions...
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