23.01.2007, 23:09
On Junacy and Rhyme Withdrawal
I could compare this to a summers chore,
a sun that hammers down like Gods left fist,
so many rhymes forbidden, what a bore,
oh, how I long for Lunas silver mist.
Soon after solstice, when the sun will list
towards the shorter days we`ll meet again
and virgin paper is the place to tryst,
-come thunder, lightning, rain or heat. - Till then
I`ll use my keyboard, not my peacock pen
to write junatic poetry devoid
of swoon & moon words, cackle like a hen,
a candidate for therapy from Freud.
I`ll bark like any purple-assed baboon,
and rattle at my bars, a rhyme-sick loon.
I could compare this to a summers chore,
a sun that hammers down like Gods left fist,
so many rhymes forbidden, what a bore,
oh, how I long for Lunas silver mist.
Soon after solstice, when the sun will list
towards the shorter days we`ll meet again
and virgin paper is the place to tryst,
-come thunder, lightning, rain or heat. - Till then
I`ll use my keyboard, not my peacock pen
to write junatic poetry devoid
of swoon & moon words, cackle like a hen,
a candidate for therapy from Freud.
I`ll bark like any purple-assed baboon,
and rattle at my bars, a rhyme-sick loon.