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Click hereYou show me what's yours to the pith,
your orthodox impiety and mouthful mourning
as you martyr the matter
You show me what's yours manifold,
marooned in the manner of the mystic,
you can't help but placidly pirouette,
as your once quaint ritual
now concedes the new rhetoric.
ii.
You were born
as puerile,
as idle as the next,
given too much respect,
you were borne
Messianic.
iii.
You are not a dear friend, but lover,
that which is worse than death,
an overhead longing--nearer than obsession,
a day to day chore, once lost, now never forgotten,
You are not a lost friend, but arbiter,
that which is absolute and all-knowing,
mirror to my id and conceit of my ego,
the superlative spilled in syllable unfitting.
iv.
She ornaments
every potential perch,
however precarious
Calypygia? Nah, SteamyBear writes more like those old dried up prunish men that come and go. This poem reminds me of the old prunish men that used to come here and write good poems. You should check out CreamyStare's poem about shouting in crayon boxes and his 'ooh baby, your creamy hot thighs are so sexy' mumbo jumbo.
I moved this conversation into the to keep the review thread clean thread on the message boards.
I do understand what you're saying, the thing is there's nothing that complicated about the words I chose. Looking up one or two words never hurt anyone, but really, do you have to look up 'placid', 'marooned', 'precarious'? If so, maybe you should read more and spend less time looking at your own ass in the mirror. You can change names but I'll know one of your poems when I see it, you're a one note scrote.
.......five cents of style..... or... the biggest word isnt necessarily the right one....... tone it down.