my poems have grown
more structured in the formality of form,
their function was always
a matter of mystery
and dubious distinction,
works that left the head
shaking, the toes twitching
in the old days my form
was impetuous, prone
to rash decisions, maniacal
Mt.Vesuvius spewing,
a dirty tongue whose whereabouts
was often unverified....unsubstantiated,
none of it was very well thought out
shotgun bursts of passion,
though I must say a few were
spot on ... these days my structure
has gotten boring, but my content
becomes more shocking to me, more oooohh.....
is nothing sacred ?
do I have the right to poke my nose
into any damn thing I can think of ?
Damn Right I Do
I'm Old
I'm old
- judih
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Re: I'm old
ah...those days of "maniacal
Mt.Vesuvius "
thanks for finding the phrase
Mt.Vesuvius "
thanks for finding the phrase
Re: I'm old
in the Biggggggg picture, no matter whats in the mirror we are just babes.....i always say "form stifles stride"....thats why i adhere to disembodied poetics and of course Jam
...yeah rage on maniacal vesuvius!

me I feel like I'm becoming some kinda Kung fu t.v. Priest.....
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