A Musing Marquee Muse

Flighty one, wait
Long enough to see 

Your name in lights,
And you’ll miss 

Every curtain call
Save the last 

Dance for me,
Hack. 

 

 

Codex With Well-worn Lacunae

 

Leaf through these
Moth-eaten pages
At your leisure if you will; 

Just make sure you
Leave no holes, no
Blanks and no 

New leaf turning
Over one more over-worked
Turning point of no 

Return after another,
You got that?
Good. 

 

 

 

Poet's Unresolved Burden Of The Heart

Never a light task
To put down 

Whatever dark matter is
Grieving you— 

Heavier even the thought
Of how to carry it out. 

 

 

Invitation To A Long Overdue, Albeit Well-Meant, Poetic Purging

Deep down thinking
Tells me just maybe
My life’s been spent facetiously 

Wallowing in the muddle
Of a clearly shallow pool
Of stagnant water; perhaps 

It’s time
I tried dredging this mighty
Fearsome puddle; 

No more drudge, no bother, no
More hollering, mum’s the word
Seriously, that’s the only path left 

To follow—
Would you care to join me
In this noble endeavor, oh
Fearless, humble lost fellow caller? 

RSVP@suchtoungueincheek.com

 

Biting A Blank Bullet For The Duration

What’s that you say? 

Superkid poet profoundly
Past his prime still
Defying gravity always
More than capable of leap-
Frogging from one fantastic
Telling line to another
In an unbroken series
Of singular bounds,
With no wear or tear
Worth mentioning till
An astounding lack
Of down-to-earth metaphors
Finally sends him and his oh so
Flighty craft soundly
Crashing to the ground? 

You must be kidding.