I post when I’m inspired
and when poetry flows from the loquacious rivers of my mind
dribbling from my fingertips like bloody droplets of poignant thoughts
spewing into the swamplands of cyberspace
oozing into the homes of unsuspecting readers
spattering upon their screens and seeping into their gaping eyes
to saturate the core of their cerebral cortex
and convey emotional ecstasy
or the anguish of despair
via the melancholy melodies of my harmonic written mime

But alas,…
my spirit has become insensitive to the magic of inspiration
like an island in a forlorn ocean
no ships passing in the night
not even pirates to pillage from the carcass of my empty soul
like the ghost of an dying volcano
that has ejaculated its last spew of molten lava
I smolder in a state of poetic depletion
no more rhyming jingles
no more doggerel verse
the spirit of the poet carried off in a unmarked unknown hearse

Thank you Abra,,and excuse me 123,,I believe
Abra just introduced him self to ya..

how poignant and true
however you have slipped up AGAIN
what?! no doggerel verse?

PUHLEEZE



his doggerel verse quiet pervere
vacuous drivel revealing
no soul-less heart
just a sharp start
understanding hismoldering meaning