I write because my time is limited and my imagination is not.
Let it get weird, confusing and obscure Use the vexing, esoteric diction Infect imaginations; give no cure Generate a poetic addiction
By D. J. Reddall2 years ago in Poets
They will sneer and deceive and betray And your dignity will remain pristine They will cast a shadow on your bright day
There will come a day When complaints and excuses Outnumber essays
Some grim foes seem colossal, gigantic We dwindle into insignificance Faced with them, few can remain romantic Against such monsters, hope has little chance
What sort of author Gives you a life you must fight Merely to sustain?
“Summer afternoon—summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language.” --Henry James
Distinctly yourself You differ from the many A word in silence
That exquisite frisson of covert joy That capers through the flesh of the censor Arises from the power to destroy What took everything from the creator
Appropriateness Ought never to muzzle truth Lest nice lies prevail
Imagine being a sorceress’ son Strange, unsightly, full of frantic passion; Fonder of the soft moon than the harsh sun
The farce carries on For a few make fat profits From its absurd plot
Once you have broken The chains of your servitude Free the rest of us
