[does the length of a poem bore the reader...?]
Posted: October 13th, 2020, 1:46 am
[... or does the writer grow bored with his lengthy words spew?]
Makeshift Shaft of Rainbow Delirium
three quarters spilled
across time/space tables,
the echo of more persists
as five fulfillments cry
tears of greed rolling west
as the eye-spy game continues
double halves reaching fullness
as magic marker smells ripen
spelling words in shadows
splayed across bleached papers
vivid in their burdened virginity
five and dimes adding up junk
reaching for the treetops
covering reality in needles
shooting joylost into veins
running freely and unconditioned
the body highways not high enough
one dollar holler fifty
the remote chance of litter
turning into lottery gains
into 144 grains of loss raining
thru 3 hourglass arms squeezing
sixteen lemons onto bouquets
sniffing the rear ends of dogs
lost in backstreets without bones
turn it-burn it-churn it
and life still persists
against grains of barley
superstitious with mirrors
staring back at one ego
laser melting ten dreams
into seven floods of despair
where are the 12 choices
that were given freely
when adolescence ruled?
where are the nine freedoms
guaranteed by people
that fought til death
so poems would shoot
the feet of ignorance
out from under stupidity?
diamond encrusted fool
imaging your needs
thru prisms of coal
polished with rags
of serendipity tripped
lost in realms of make-believe
mindquake the vestibules
the joke tumbles ceaselessly
leaving the source to create
just one more time for fantasy
to bloom as a tease to please
~treasure hunts greed
~treasure hunts greed
~treasure hunts greed
((triphalia decides the ending))
____|||_____
Cecil B. Lee
Makeshift Shaft of Rainbow Delirium
three quarters spilled
across time/space tables,
the echo of more persists
as five fulfillments cry
tears of greed rolling west
as the eye-spy game continues
double halves reaching fullness
as magic marker smells ripen
spelling words in shadows
splayed across bleached papers
vivid in their burdened virginity
five and dimes adding up junk
reaching for the treetops
covering reality in needles
shooting joylost into veins
running freely and unconditioned
the body highways not high enough
one dollar holler fifty
the remote chance of litter
turning into lottery gains
into 144 grains of loss raining
thru 3 hourglass arms squeezing
sixteen lemons onto bouquets
sniffing the rear ends of dogs
lost in backstreets without bones
turn it-burn it-churn it
and life still persists
against grains of barley
superstitious with mirrors
staring back at one ego
laser melting ten dreams
into seven floods of despair
where are the 12 choices
that were given freely
when adolescence ruled?
where are the nine freedoms
guaranteed by people
that fought til death
so poems would shoot
the feet of ignorance
out from under stupidity?
diamond encrusted fool
imaging your needs
thru prisms of coal
polished with rags
of serendipity tripped
lost in realms of make-believe
mindquake the vestibules
the joke tumbles ceaselessly
leaving the source to create
just one more time for fantasy
to bloom as a tease to please
~treasure hunts greed
~treasure hunts greed
~treasure hunts greed
((triphalia decides the ending))
____|||_____
Cecil B. Lee