Fitting Words
Saturday, May 22, 2004
 

On Learning The True Value Of Creativity

emjay = gem in igpay atinlay
emjaygee, with a lazy e and a ceedeetee
urgent management, resurgent banishment
write my résumé
before I'm sent away, repent away
there's no counting on recanting
no cant worth recounting
concerning earning
it's not worth turning in a profit
take my cap and doff it
nothing to use, all to lose
all is lost: at what cost
is more than most are supposed
to choose or choose to say
makes no difference anyway
no defence of difference
no sense in inference
it's just $$ and cents
and creative interference
in sincere intent
i draw no conclusions
from accomplices' collusions
drawing accomplishment
is not something meant
to be worth all the money spent
much less heaven sent
repent (i said)
architecture is dead
(gasp) hold-your-breath-&-count-backwards-from-one-hundred
curvy-wurvy makes one nervy
unnervingly nervous
unswervingly servile
what is the purpose
of answering a rival,
a spy-all with a smile
and a green mile of bile
go down, go down in style
and leave this pile of shit
and everything under it
and on top of it and topple it
just go away; leave today
it doesn't matter anyway
that's what i say
amscray

top
 
|
, maybe

Insulting scansion, euphony, rhyme and meter,
Beware the words of the poetaster.
If these words do not deter,
Then try rhyming with aster astir.
And should you stay the course, become a reader,
Then, blog help you, I am your master.

- "My words fly up, my thoughts remain below:
Words without thoughts never to heaven go."

ARCHIVES
April 2004 / May 2004 / June 2004 / July 2004 / August 2004 / September 2004 / October 2004 / November 2004 / July 2005 / May 2006 / November 2006 / March 2009 /


INDEX
I Am the Very Model of a Model Singaporean
The Esplanade (reprise)
PAy Per View (Reprise 05/2006)
Shadow Cats
A Cheetah Escaped Today
Untitled/Epigram
Elephants Aphasia
Acrostic: A heart in 3 beats
For the rest of my life
An Iambic Tetrameter
Leaving The Fold
Fitting Words
I read a poem
Wanda Lust
Eternal Verities
On Not Having A Clue
Four Iambs and a Trimeter
We Walked On
Poetic Usage
Bus Ride
Paper View
Doing it
A Nonsense
The Waiting Room
Nocturne
Elephantiasis
Rain
My desk and what sonnet
On Learning The True Value Of Creativity
Coffea Arabica, or The Human Bean
Sing A Poor Song
The Esplanade
Poem #1

© Michael Graetz

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