“Today was filled with zemblanity,
on which I blame the profanity.”*
It had apparently tested her sanity,
(and not being one for much vanity)
she’d slipped in nouns of bogosity,
and fill this moment with docity.
This I thought was a bit of absurdity,
but in writing I’d grant her some dignity,
after using a term coined with gallantry,
by one Mr. Boyd quite haphazardly,
in this hearty language of duplicity.
(This poem is full of banality,
and has turned into quite the calamity,
so please forgive our insanity.)
*Hat tip to RL for today’s inspiration and unspoken invitation to be silly. ^.~
Forced poetry –
like nails on chalkboard,
so full of overused clichés.
To avoid that hand of doom,
or those who sleep like the dead,
tucked tightly in their bed,
with eyelids heavy as lead,
one must write like in a womb.
Look with fresh eyes on the world,
see the sun reflect the ground,
watch the grasses come unwound,
know that silence cuts the sound,
and imagination has unfurled.
Think of what it is to make it written,
to create from raw ingredients,
and perhaps a bit of deviance,
while letting go of false prescience,
one might find herself quite smitten,
Dusting off the old blog and my resolve to join NaPoWriMo once more this year. Perhaps, this year, I will complete the task.
Look here for a posted poem each day in the month of
April. I can’t promise they will be good but I can promise they will show up faithfully.
“Have something to say, and say it as clearly as you can. That is the only secret.” ~Matthew Arnold