this poetic prologue
a feeble exercise
to encapsulate common
place frustration
experienced by
this fledgling author.
yukon determine verdict
once ye peruse short
spurious poem
below decks
will consume scant minutes.
hoop fully byte size
format asper reflections
bing hobbled akin twin
frustrated cobbler
with nary a sole
to shoe healing power
of summoning
creativity words
stitched together
trying ma darnedest
to capture
fleeting idea.
filed within memory banks
jagged shoals of rock
illusory images frieze
leitmotif cerebral pad lock
forcing together mis
matched metaphors
or what not ad hoc
there a young lad skipping
with his lass in colorful frock passing fanciful day dream
lazing about on the dock
while hands of time tick
on the clock
sober reality check tears me away
from idyllic distractions
rearing head of immense
frightful mental block
a bygone student of Antioch. now an epilogue and expansion
of given thesis sans above premise.
i now oblige objective at hand,
and resume con sue mating
avant garde fashion express
sing difficulty for me
to seal craft building blocks
of english language in
a fitting manner does justice,
and gives liberty to leap
ping lizard like thoughts
that dart to and fro
hither and yon within my mind.
rather than censor or edit,
I pour out at rapid fire rate
the notions that flit thru
me noggin staring at black
strunk white screen. some
times eyes remain closed
to help initiate process
to summon forth this, that
or another barely
perceptible concept.
the task less difficult
when topic provided
happens to be the case
with self imposed
approximately five hun
dread word epistle,
which preconceived
subject automatically
narrows focus into
figurative box.
when provided
with specified issue,
the effort arduous
to gather plethora
of disparate points
indicating directions
diatribe in question could shift.
any one of these paths
(if not most) take down
moribund dead end
with only infinite abyss
as an escape. countless trials
and errors find exploration
(to state near physical exhaustion)
where each bramble strewn route
only finds this pensive fellow hopelessly
and inextricably entangled within his
own thicket of unprintable verbiage. would you believe and/
or accept, that ah aha
eureka moment arises
(and vacuum powerfully
sucks up every ounce
of concentration)
most unexpectedly
and inconveniently
per on the toilet,
when paragraphs
nearly tumble pell mell
of their accord
(defying laws
of physics) from
tips of these fingers
or bowels of this simian. a frantic attempt finds
zealous effort to tap
unstoppable barrage
barreling forth
from fount of mother
lode, than finds
slightest distraction
(such as a delivery of parcel, tornado,
cosmic catastrophe,
et cetera) to lose precious spider
thin thread forever
(at the eleventh hour)
lost along vast vista
abandoned like useless
obsolete materiel.
even upon minutes scrutinizing
satisfactory completion
sans lengthy manuscript,
an unbiased opinion
of displeasure frequently
takes place finds disappoint
ment, and these myopic eyes
blink and stare once again
at white washed computer screen.
to encapsulate common
place frustration
experienced by
this fledgling author.
yukon determine verdict
once ye peruse short
spurious poem
below decks
will consume scant minutes.
hoop fully byte size
format asper reflections
bing hobbled akin twin
frustrated cobbler
with nary a sole
to shoe healing power
of summoning
creativity words
stitched together
trying ma darnedest
to capture
fleeting idea.
filed within memory banks
jagged shoals of rock
illusory images frieze
leitmotif cerebral pad lock
forcing together mis
matched metaphors
or what not ad hoc
there a young lad skipping
with his lass in colorful frock passing fanciful day dream
lazing about on the dock
while hands of time tick
on the clock
sober reality check tears me away
from idyllic distractions
rearing head of immense
frightful mental block
a bygone student of Antioch. now an epilogue and expansion
of given thesis sans above premise.
i now oblige objective at hand,
and resume con sue mating
avant garde fashion express
sing difficulty for me
to seal craft building blocks
of english language in
a fitting manner does justice,
and gives liberty to leap
ping lizard like thoughts
that dart to and fro
hither and yon within my mind.
rather than censor or edit,
I pour out at rapid fire rate
the notions that flit thru
me noggin staring at black
strunk white screen. some
times eyes remain closed
to help initiate process
to summon forth this, that
or another barely
perceptible concept.
the task less difficult
when topic provided
happens to be the case
with self imposed
approximately five hun
dread word epistle,
which preconceived
subject automatically
narrows focus into
figurative box.
when provided
with specified issue,
the effort arduous
to gather plethora
of disparate points
indicating directions
diatribe in question could shift.
any one of these paths
(if not most) take down
moribund dead end
with only infinite abyss
as an escape. countless trials
and errors find exploration
(to state near physical exhaustion)
where each bramble strewn route
only finds this pensive fellow hopelessly
and inextricably entangled within his
own thicket of unprintable verbiage. would you believe and/
or accept, that ah aha
eureka moment arises
(and vacuum powerfully
sucks up every ounce
of concentration)
most unexpectedly
and inconveniently
per on the toilet,
when paragraphs
nearly tumble pell mell
of their accord
(defying laws
of physics) from
tips of these fingers
or bowels of this simian. a frantic attempt finds
zealous effort to tap
unstoppable barrage
barreling forth
from fount of mother
lode, than finds
slightest distraction
(such as a delivery of parcel, tornado,
cosmic catastrophe,
et cetera) to lose precious spider
thin thread forever
(at the eleventh hour)
lost along vast vista
abandoned like useless
obsolete materiel.
even upon minutes scrutinizing
satisfactory completion
sans lengthy manuscript,
an unbiased opinion
of displeasure frequently
takes place finds disappoint
ment, and these myopic eyes
blink and stare once again
at white washed computer screen.
-
Author:
rew4er2nail (
Offline) - Published: February 4th, 2018 01:22
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 35
- Users favorite of this poem: Moom
Offline)
Comments1
Oh my god your writing is like a fine wine. Scrumptious!
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.