I cannot write stanzas anymore so sorry for the
form this took. tom


Now here inside a bubble
Trouble stays at bay all day
My face a furry stubble
Like a thorny rose bouquet

Party plans were pasteurized
By people's pent-up pride
The bureau of the ized
Decide to side with suicide

Moral midgets meant to mend
The morals of we malcontents
Are born to break but never bend
Intolerant of all intents

A bite of bitter mindless bile
With timid taste of tepid tone
So vital to their vice of vile
Create homegrown to make a clone

Ubiquitous and uniform
Content to castigate the crowd
Fanatics formed on chloroform
No petty piquant parts allowed

Voluminous their voice on vice
A lengthy list of lecheries
These nagging naughty, not so nice,
Proud poseurs of pomposities

Perfection in propriety
Will disallow to detriment
Conciliatory primacy
Of bottom feeding sediment

Edited 3 time(s). Last edit at 07/20/2009 02:24AM by easyeverett.

Good read, Tom.

Les

Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 09/03/2022 10:36PM by les712.

Tom,

Hope all is well. I miss your genius this last month, even though I rarely comment on your work. Anytime you feel like posting a poem here, just precede the title with < pre> and follow the last line with < /pre> leaving out the space after the
This is your last posting from: July 19, 2021 09:20PM which no one commented on. In some way I envy your felicity with 'poetic devices,' since I struggle even at the level of keeping my spelling straight.

cheers,

Peter

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