I have to blow through A lot of fuses, and Refuse a lot, too, Burning through Lots of refuse, Blowing, burning, And refusing through That, too, Then re-selecting, reworking, And re-tooling Even previously-refused Piled-high refuse, Re-tooling THAT and Refusing It YET again, Hoping to eventually End up with Any Old Garbage I can first refuse Then, ultimately, If I’m very lucky, Dumpster Dive And pick over A whole landfill of Scraps Spaghetti Confetti To discover a tiny little bit Of infinitesimal filthy dirt, Soiled then Re-Spoiled Enough to actually Be of Any Use.
It’s either that or throw it on The Giant Heap of Rotting Trash And let it decompost naturally.
I tried to spare my More Serious Readers My Darker and Lustier Sides by creating two separate Instagram accounts and separating my poems/accounts as follows:
THOUGHT BUBBLES…ALL THE WAY UP: “Inner Effervesce”
Can’t build Art from Artifice: The only schools for birthing fish Are Seas of Vulnerability. In depths You’ll find the Muse You Hide. Stimulates Your Softer Side, Releasing Secrets Trapped Inside. Unleashed freedom gives Free Reign, Bouncing UnBoxed Jack Away, Loosing Inner Effervescence; Bubbled Thoughts have Much To Say!
She’s a quick study Whose Understudy Understands: She Needs not Study Or Overstudy, Study Steadily, Or Study Readily, She’s always Ready, She Studies Steadily, And studies Regularly, UnTil You’re Ready Really ready To go steady If Still not ready? To go steady? She won’t sweat it; Won’t regret it. She’ll just Discredit With Your Understudy.
Let me introduce you to my dining room: It’s where I write my poems for You When I find I’m not supine, Crafting kernels in my mind All the day and through the night; Composing even when I lie In bed and Grub the song that beckons me, Woos me ever-noisily, Gurgles stand me up to seek Out some fuel till I concede: “OKAY! I guess I need to Eat!” This fix fills temporarily, So I don’t wanna burn my time On trifles like the food I buy. The option I prefer the best? Surprise! I’ve learned to multitask! Now when I search out my words, Food’s the only lover spurned; Ignored in ‘waves and on the stove, Forsaken for these silly poems. Do you like the toasted treats, Burnt and frosted prettily, I’ve whipped up for you to read?
If not, what do you WANT from me? I’m not a CHEF and words are FREE.
This idea is giving me a reason to take a shower and get myself presentable at least ONCE A WEEK.
If I care enough about my appearance to care about my appearance, which will probably vary week by week, but here’s the PLAN:
• I’d like to create a video, one per week, UNDER 60 SECONDS (I’m going to try to make my lips talk that quickly), • Reading one poem or an except from a poem or other piece I wrote that week. • Unconcealing one hidden detail – about the poem’s inspiration, surrounding events, Soundtrack, key players, bit parts, intended audience for • My Dramatic Intentions, Poetry Readings (!), Jam Sessions, Joy Festivals, Etiquette Lessons, Sage Advice, Classroom-style Teaching, Focused Groups, Remote Village, Oasis, Rabbit Warren, Zip Code, Standing Room Only • 60 seconds of me having a fireside chat with you, • AS RAPIDLY AS POSSIBLE • To try to keep it under 60 seconds • To read an ENTIRE POEM then share a Fascinating Insight about Said Poem.
Here’s the down and dirty, Friends: I write all day, every day. I don’t bump into Poets at the local grocery store, buying food for their big Poet Parties of Fellow Co-Poets at PoetsRUs or Poets, Incorporated. There’s a glut of Poets because Poet summits the Highest-Paying Occupations Lists every year!! I NEED to talk about what I DO ALL DAY with Another Living Soul.
I’m not looking to encroach on anyone else’s territory, and if your blog DOES spend 60 seconds a week on the topic of MY POEMS, could I at least be a Special Guest?
P.S. I’m going to use the Scarlet Starlet Image to identify these weekly posts because I paid $5.99 for it. And I LIKE IT❣️
This is where I place The stupid rhymes I make. Should they score a hit? I’ll polish and I’ll spit My Words until they shine To sparkle one more time. Should they float and spin? I’ll spin them Once Again.
Come [Word] Play With Me! 