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Metaphor Jungles
Locked
in cynical thought.
These words
are turds
that fester and rot.
Writers,
puffy with
self-importance,
inflate
their craft.
Bark
like puppies
neglected.
Ashamed
to admit
the ease
with which
the ink was erected,
we pout
from metaphor jungles
infected with
the foliage
of ambiguity.
Emerge
now from behind
the vines,
exposed
as those
too inept
to engage
in pursuits
for the more
adept.
Bang!
Tis' what you spelt.
Boom!
Tis' what I felt.
C.
I thorougly enjoyed this.........
read as if you were calling out two stubborn children and putting them in their place for their actions. I found it very well written and totally enjoyed your point and agree with it. Writing should be a thing of beauty not a thing of self important arrogance. There is no pouting in poetry! Sincerely, Melissa Lundeen................
"see kids these days that
"see kids these days that like being writers, more than they like writing..."Scrrobius Pip - let em come
I'm sorry i wasn't who you thought i was. F**k it, i'm sorry i wasn't who i thought i was.
...I bought the heartbreak hotel on my own with no investors, closed it down and opened the F**k you, get over it bed and breakfast