Saturday, 27 June 2009

SATURDAY 27th JUNE 2009.

I don’t like the strictest sense of the word,
I prefer the flexibility of being heard;
The frowns
On the faces of nouns
When they sound
The smile
Of the adjective’s style
When it files

I don’t see the strictures of laid metre
I favour the adoption of beat greetings;
The pull
Of an instrument’s lull
When it dulls
The thrill
Of a vocal chord’s will
Howled until

I don’t know the structure of read letters,
I feel the punctuation of saved spaces;
The drop
When they near the stop
Of earshot’s
The rise
Once they move to disguise
And rewire

1 comment:

  1. This is a fascinating and wonderful poem. It really takes one for a ride. Beautifully structured, rhythmical. I would love to hear it spoken.

    Well done, sir.