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Rhapsody
by Jody PrattI fulminate my own words and
annihilate this absurd verse,
like it's a guitar verses two chords
with the same note,
played in reverse.
This is poetry, I don't need to rehearse.
I'm where the Dictionary gets words.
Every ill rhyme is a sick curse.
Bleeding out my pen,
we need a Bic nurse.
Spilling innocent ink
one cartridge at a time.
Singing in sync
I’m beginning to think,
these are slick lines.
You want to hear it all, so
you got the mute paused,
but you can’t hear me because
I pen to papered
this whole rap song.
These words I’m writing off,
erasing the cause because,
it’s too scripted to speak of,
these vowels between us
delegating sentences.
Let us collaborate recourse
to restore accordingly order
and stop reading this dead horse. 12/12/2011 Author's Note: Expanded.
Posted on 12/12/2011
Copyright © 2024 Jody Pratt
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 12/12/11 at 01:30 PM Interesting, I made a comment in your journal before I read this poem. But I have seen what I consider to be such poor definitions in the dictionary that I don't know where to start. And I still like the poem. |
| Posted by Adam Dyson on 12/13/11 at 01:24 AM Liking this VERY much. |
| Posted by Lori Blair on 12/14/11 at 11:33 PM Perhaps if lyrics in music were truly listened to for it's meaning we wouldn't need to hear that dead horse in reverse? Fantastic work! |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 12/21/11 at 01:57 AM Yes, I enjoyed this very much Jody. The line: I'm where the Dictionary gets words, and the last stanza especially struck a (guitar) chord in me.
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| Posted by Carolyn Coville on 10/05/12 at 02:37 AM Nice! I loved "we need a Bic nurse" |
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