Smidgens
This is empty.
It is not words.
No.
Don’t let it fool you.
It’s up to its tricks……..
Twisting meanings……..
And it’s ugly…….
Take a look!
Little symbols on a page.
Not artistic at all!
Graffiti is better
Especially when stenciled.
For it is a pattern, only a facsimile.
A silhouette
Upon a surface
This is not a room
Where women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.
A rose isn’t necessarily a rose isn’t a rose necessarily
There are no eyes on me….and
Still I rise? Nope……I’m sitting down
This poem does not depend
On the red wheelbarrow
This poem is not at a station at the metro
Nor, is it going to be a Cantos
There will be no singing of the body electric!
No bee buzzing
And no bird chirping
Is going to happen here
This poem will kick
Out any attempt of alluding to something
Nor will it allude to nothing
That’s even worse
Metaphors are purely accidental
The events of this poem are fictitious
Any similarity to another poem
Living or dead is merely coincidental
If you are reading into this poem
Deeply.
Stop!
You are on the wrong path
Go put on lipstick
Or do your nails
Check your internet dating service
You have messages there that are more poetic
Like walks on the beach
A crackling cozy fire,
There are poets on there that say….
“Pearl Jam, you too? I would have never guessed.”
Recite cereal ingredients
To someone you live with
Who’s in some other room, somewhere
In the house you live in.
Maybe there’s a good poem in the garage.
Under an oil can…… or
Next to that box with your 2007 tax returns
That’s time better spent.
Scratch your ass for all this poem cares
It’s not looking at you
Not yet, at any rate.
Maybe next time you read it
It will give you a discerning glance.
With its bland expression
With a telltale one eyebrow raised
But,
Don’t think it means anything.
It might be looking at someone else instead
We poems have a way of doing that.
We’re just bitches.
Just thought I tell you the facts.
Yep, sometimes people don’t listen or pay attention. Or a meaning is taken too far. Or it’s a joke of some sort. This poem could be those and more.
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This one hurts. (because of echoes of my own pain) It was difficult to read. I still enjoyed your writing. 🙂
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That reminds me of this: 🙂
“Clarity is of no importance because nobody listens and nobody knows what you mean no matter what you mean, nor how clearly you mean what you mean. But if you have vitality enough of knowing enough of what you mean, somebody and sometime and sometimes a great many will have to realize that you know what you mean and so they will agree that you mean what you know, what you know you mean, which is as near as anybody can come to understanding any one.”—Gertrude Stein
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I like your allusions to other poetry.
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The fact is poetry
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Wow! I love not reading into this…
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This is great!! I really enjoyed reading it and especially loved the last few lines. Looking forward to reading your other poems
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Mhh b with wordsmith talent
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Thanks for the review. I loved it. You can now find it on my site under the page reviews. Take care.
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What an intriguing poem! So raw and real here.
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This would have been fantastically entertaining if I would have paid more attention. But I couldn’t quite trust this poem’s sassy voice. Really, you are a clever one. The whole of it made me laugh and laugh again. Especially,
The events of this poem are fictitious
Any similarity to another poem
Living or dead is merely coincidental
Thank you for the entertainment. You are the best.
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Pingback: Facts — Elan Mudrow | Site Title
I call this form of expression String Poems, and this one might just be stringing us along, eh?
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Reblogged this on The Scientific Detective.
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and some of us are sons of bitches
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Reblogged this on Orthometry.
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I just love it!! Hahahaha. I tried this at the weekend and called it my Over-Tired Ramble and just loved the freedom of it all. There was no meaning or care to it and I just let it all go and hang out much like running nude on the beach hahahaha. Great! Keep it coming 🙂
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I liked your claiming to make no allusions as you alluded to other poems. I liked a lot of things about this non-poem poem, but it will take more than one reading to discover them all, so I’m saving it to read again…and again…on a different day, in a different mood, with a different attitude.
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SIgh! Poetry’s a bitch and then we die.
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Great, pure, raw, i can’t even quote its all too good, thank you for a five minutes of fun laughs and self awareness… you stole my mind from the world for bit there, thank you…
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Reblogged this on perfectlyfadeddelusions.
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Poem, you’re nuttin’ but a big tease
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Oops.. terrible of me^
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Ha ha!
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Good job! I did a small review of your poems on my blog almost a year ago: https://ericadriaans.com/2016/07/27/the-poetry-of-elan-mudrow/ I might need to do an update. Nice to always see your work.
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Those r some Impressive Truths.
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“Just the facts, Ma’am.”
But I do like the little patterns that generally break all the rules no one’s thoughts can follow. Like erotic Coke bottles in silhouette, or sleeping cats or simply a decent sentence broken into
little
stacked
layers
like an
expensive cupcake.
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Sounds like you’ve been reading Lemony Snicket 🙂
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Don’t take it seriously. It’s just a fling.
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At least this poem doesn’t lie
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Your poem decided to look at me. ❤
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You’re so good ..
is it terrible to be crawling alongside marathon runners?
Either way, you inspire
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There’s no Reply here. My only comment is for the cereal box Bard. I hear no Facts in these measured words , only …..black and white songs.
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I love the references to other poems.
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❤️
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This is fantastic. I love it.
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Reverse psychology:D
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