7200
As an indie
alt rock'n
tribe beck
ha dishabille
poet, hive
u challenge
writing hun
null guess
to begetting
heir or heiress,
which includes
gestation
of an,
emotion, idea,
sentiment,
unbeknownst
if outcome
birthed to be
fabulous then
however whim
sic al notion
spins within
thine cerebral
centrifuge, the
imagination
pregnant
with fetus of a
fledgling
concept feeling
with byte
size sea legs,
not quite ready
for prime time
beak combs
obvious, as
swollen womb
expansive
lettered girth
manifests and
coalesces into
miniature
Confucius
versatile baby
(unless un
expected
contusions
render exertion
aborted effort,
the proud
procreator
bounteous,
which success
inspires this
scrivener to
tackle another
and fleeting
thought and
sire by product
with audacity.
Oft times,
the sacred
seconds silenced
by stillness louder
than "Big Ben"
ear splitting only
to me squirreled
away in basement.
Den the dead
quiet riot
audio slave
logical sonic
boom decibel asper
a water nymph
sprung from
a fen,or when
sneaky fiery
fox slips into
the house,
where yokes
roosting
long foster
mass squaw
wking. Many
fold egg on
eyes zing hen,
the end
result meta
morphoses
into a totally
tubularly un
foreseen
jumbled gib
burr rush (like
Greek mythology
of Gilgamesh)
senseless wordy
clump aspiring
to convey essence
of logic, though
best to take a fur
lough than
persist to
interpret trump
petted dump
of dis
cordantly strung
English bits,
which intractable
insistence
might spell
f-o-r-c-e-d
g-r-u-m-p as
the mood
one may
find them-self,
unless he/she
can call the
literary mod
squad to re
solve harrumph,
and with luck
the once
amorphous
lumpen pro lit
tarry hit might
undergo an
amazing
transformation.
A cherished poem
plump wriggling
juicy fruit
weighing
down boughs
as if limbs ready
to quiver and
rustle leave in
tree let born.
