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Converse
by Laura DoomMuch of my time is spent
in the company of those
strange entities we call
ourselves; whether or not
abnormality can be inferred
from this astonishing display
of self-disclosure is neither relevant
nor intriguing. Neverthemoreorless
I talk to my plants.
Much as I admire nature's infinite
variety of forms and habits,
control is of the essence.
I require my progeny to exercise
self-restraint, and develop
in a manner which befits
their creator.
My purpose is to give you pleasure.
Not good enough.
My extravagance sings a madrigal
in celebration of your beneficence.
Pure self-indulgence.
I unsheathe the mighty secateurs
and wield her blades of fury
to stem the arterial flow
of such unseemly selflessness.
End of...
There are many rules
to be applied, without ruth
or favour, in the creation
of a natural environment. 07/19/2010 Posted on 07/18/2010
Copyright © 2024 Laura Doom
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Clara Mae Gregory on 07/19/10 at 07:49 PM You never disappoint me,Laura.Starting with a chuckle due to this wonderful word and line:Neverthemoreorless
I talk to my plants.AND finishing with:
Without "ruth" which is a new one for me.(ruth, being pity,compassion,sorrow,grief,self-reproach; contrition; remorse.)
I love this, dear, and I love the natural environment. |
| Posted by Max Bouillet on 07/28/10 at 12:53 AM It is not my business to whom you converse. But I would stay away from the roses I hear they are little pricks if not handled properly and tulips, well I hear they can't keep a secret. Of course the Ivy does grow on you --a bit too clingy for my tastes. Best stick to the orchids (they have a taste for death and the obscene). |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 08/06/10 at 01:57 PM Thought provoking train of thought piece. I especially like how you get the ball rolling in that first stanza and how the poem...expression changes throughout to the end. |
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