poetry be damned

  Poetry be damned


The grey coloured straightjacket of poetry

I have, like, Houdini freed me of these shackles

flowers, loveliness and mendacities.

An unbearable burden getting buried by a ton

of rotten blooms. I am free!

Fly from tree to tree not seeing the foliage,

soar higher than anyone before so elevated,

the blue planet is a bauble on a Christmas tree.

I land in a potato field with ordinary colours and

brown soil and when flowers from Amsterdam

are in season I`m free to wade in a muddy pool,

wear yellow wellies towing on a string a tiny sailboat

that (as by magic) becomes a three mastered schooner.

All this because I ain´t no poet but a writer and can

use double negatives if I so wish

(from my book When Beelzebub Ruled)

 Poetry and vignettes)


◄ winner takes all

just a thought ►


No comments posted yet.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message