Poem Pop

Uncategorized

I need to bring you into a poem? 
Pop, here you are. 
Now that you’re clearly seated, 
I suppose that we can start. 
You want this simple, common, 
accessible, 
but what you suggest is a mess, 
detestable. 
No rest for a writer 
with mind like cider
pouring out a spout 
of me, 
a sea of the third degree, 
since it burns 
when you speak in terms 
of how my words formlessly churn. 
Let me correct your rhetoric 
and assist the less fortunate 
for my mind is a line, 
a fine and divine device,
you swine, you lice, 
you leech, you preach 
things no one did give you, 
fool, trying to tamper with the spool
when I’ve already spun a web
of conscious words
right at your head. 
Neglect, I expect, 
but tragic cries and
wheeping signs
send me into 
a form fluttered rise. 
So loose are these words, 
flushed out my system
in colorful ways 
begging to miss you, 
send you away, 
your craze, 
your maze that you did make, 
from the words of my own 
you wish you could take. 
Now pop out of my head, 
remove your judgment, 
because soon it will be too late, 
and you appreciate nothing.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s