PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

an ongoing symposium

in the quest for knowledge

and spiritual enlightenment

The doctors and professors

all read of their texts

and the audience sits enraptured

but what is being said?

That’s always a good question

as the Maharishi tries

to teach me to quit

smoking cigarettes I never

started smoking in the first place

There’s a professor of psychology

Psychotherapy; neurological treatment

of sociopaths or something

my words were silenced

as I attempted to chuckle

and received all dirty looks

from young college babes

that I wouldn’t mind fucking

so I shut up my trap

and listen to all this crap

The words shuttled about the room

I sat there in a state of gloom

but no one bothered to hear me

and I settled debates inside me

hither my poetry has arisen

and the girls giggled at my efforts

and I found myself the fool

and tried to crawl away

before anyone else could see me

It was such a deadly game

and the psychotherapy guy

kept talking and the babes wooing

but me just getting more horny

and no relief offered from any

so I had to up and leave

and get out before I quit

before I even begun

and got lost in neurological

crosscurrents of my psyche