Saturday, 9 March 2013

this higgledy-piggledy poem will soon do a posthumous twinge

you hopscotch through your vocabulary and wish with a dose of humility
that you will be able to reassemble all your wild running thoughts
the words push you forth inexorably
if you don't play along you will turn into a deranged riparian
this long drawn-out hiatus keeps your wordy soul from doing its rigorous growing
is it something in the air that makes you so hard-headedly huffish?
you wrench the words from the dictionary scream it out aloud, regardless of
the tympanitis that the walls might suffer from
your pen can sometime be an introverted cuttle-fish
too demure, too shy or too whatever to spurt out its ink
there are rich golden hives out there that you wish would incubate your tongue
and let it grow into the most resoundingly resplendent hunting horn
but oh the chassis of your being can at any moment detach itself from sanity
and go forth into a Homeric rising of the X-factorising of the mind
jeeez, this makes your cellular make-up feel all too yeasty for your liking
this continuous detouring into twaddling...
don't you sometime wish you could turn yourself into a rapacious despot
and ravish the world with some high faluting howdah?
even the wood nymphs, periwinkles, hermaphrodites and rhebuck will
fall under your yoke
how awesome!
but enough now of this cubiclelized talk!
why can't you break out more often in some desultory ribaldry
forget about rationing the mind
let it loose!
annexate the hippodrome put on your mantle and smile your cherubic smile
you'll start speaking in tongues and writing in hieroglyphs
oh, stop this hoity toity hoodwinking and talk straight
take the tweezers and pull out the thorn of thine own foot
irrigate your mouth with turpentine
look up to the cerulean skies
lose that pot-belly of laziness
dethrone your cut-throat desires and lift the curfews of the man-made laws
learn to play the hurdy-gurdy and stop all rivalry
it will be good for your health
what if you go for some good ol' hydrotherapy
the jaundice-colour in your cheeks will lift
this higgledy-piggledy poem will soon do a posthumous twinge
hip hip hoorah!

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