Force of drole
The drole of this world’s a part of my repertoire
Seek it out
I observe the stars bluster out a cosmic sigh
Sun ushers in to greet me then say to me high
Sunshine deflated-slips behind
Coy eyelashes flicker
An elusive goodbye
Landscape sightings report the sun’s trickery
It can’t revolve above or under the sky.
Planet earth is a cookie cut out
flattened into shape
Dictated to — its norm of a lay by
infinite stutters unlace
creating ripples across the water
wanton to view her beguiling manner this eve
Don’t watch this space
It leaves room for an innuendo
budgie budgets cos it’s an indie myna on the fly by
Gutted cos this reads across as a novice flatulently windy
Lost confidence in his nature.
Stole a spirit
it wasn’t even mine
Finale parts the legs of barbie inbreds in-laws.
underwear-blatantly reveals the remnants of a hookah smoky blows
secreting a house ablaze
brush off an ashen doll-
vented as Cindy.
Quality remains third-degree sightless
to the echelons taken over in a hazed quantity;
I think I died.
I have imposter syndrome
These words dictate I’m a genuine illiterate.
Forgive me for attempting to write
I forgot about that critter sitting amongst its fellow mate-the 5 10 midget
Oi ‘Arry Potter quick diversion tactic-start finding the golden quidditch
Posted on May 10, 2018, in POETRY and tagged Creative Writing, Creativity, Emotions, poems, POETRY, Stream of consciousness. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.
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