Ode to the Overly Descriptive and Surrealistic, Nonsense-Poet
Raindrops like dreams fall,
Sedentary in time and black
With a twisted rainbow.
My words are Picasso.
My words like the wind…blow.
Magma spews forth from a baby’s mouth,
Intertwined and outlined
In the placenta of a mothers womb.
Steve Jobs is freezing in hell…too soon?
I stir these words
With a wooden spoon,
Feel the wounds with nihilistic tunes.
Blood is my only hope;
Stagnant swamps of butter-scotch,
Liquid rays of hemlock.
I ask, oh lord of festering gout,
What the fuck are these words about?
Pretentious meat curtains
Flap free and slap
At territorial extraterrestrial popes,
Forever and for certain.
I’ve lost track of my lack of talent,
String together nonsensical
And brand it.
Deep thought and oh so real,
Existential, read what I feel.
Know it!
I’m the overly descriptive and surrealistic, nonsense-poet.
*Snapping Fingers*
That poem was a metaphor for the plight of the endangered dugong, known to inhabit the Northern waters of Australia.
I attempted to insert myself into the dugong and feel the pain inside of its body. I poked and poked until at last, the dugong slowly opened itself to me and allowed me to enter unrestricted as we shared our being and became one. The dugong wish, as all mammals wish, to be loved and allowed to flourish without fear and hatred because of what they are.
They are so beautiful and warm on the inside that once man has entered a dugong and felt their warmth for themselves, he will truly see how special those creatures are.
I invite you to come inside me and feel the dugong as I do. As one can see from my ‘dugong song’, I feel them so very intensely. Please come…come in me and feel the intensity that I do. We must save this special animal from becoming extinct and we can only do that through action; long, intense, focused action. And maybe one day when the trust has been built, the dugong will come inside of us and feel our nurturing and welcoming warmth. I pray for the day a dugong will come inside of me.
*Snapping Fingers*
[Note: Do I need to explain the joke? Pretentious-poet beastiality butt-sex.]
graysonjack
Snap Snap Snap Snap
You made me weep! I almost pee’d my pants too.
They should let you hit the “Like” button more than once, damn it.
Haha, thank you so much! The exact intent for my blog is to make people almost pee themselves. Thank you for bringing my dreams to fruition! But in all seriousness, thanks for reading and thanks for the comment.
Pretty confused at first then found it hilarious at the end
Well I’m glad you made it all the way to the end. If I were an outsider reading that, after the first few lines I would have X’ed out and called the guy a pretentious douche bag.
Amazing.
Hahahaha.
Seriously…
I feel as though Dewey Cox just wrote another Bob Dylan-esque song.
It’s ironic that just this morning I was bemoaning the lack of beastiality butt-sex poetry, and here you are. I’m also thinking of starting a band called Beastiality Butt-Sex! Thanks!
Your words evoke the lotus in the constellation that is my pain. I fly, but weep. I die yet transcend.
Haha best response yet! That was beautiful.
Found a new rant in my e-mail this morning and thought “That’ll be nice breakfast entertainment; it’ll make up for the fact that I’m sucking down scrambled egg whites instead of the real thing — with bacon.” I was becoming one with my healthy choice when I damned near choked to death on it laughing!
You’re a poet but didn’t know it. *snapsnapsnap*
Love the alluded-to nonsensical poet bestial buttsex. I always leave cross-species buttsex to those types.
“I stir these words
With a wooden spoon”
I cried a little