“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Showing posts with label slang. Show all posts
Showing posts with label slang. Show all posts
Sunday, November 24, 2019
Slang-ing rocks
It's like
they were trying to keep up with the Jones'
Who are They?
Like the Kardashians?
Okay, no. It's more like
a bad case of the Me Too's!
The MeToo movement? Who
did what to you?!
No, no. It was all
about the iWant-
Want what?
A Tesla, an Apple watch, a DNA Test,
a viral video-
You do not.
No, of course not.
I live for the struggle.
Your expressions
literally, make no sense to me-
Nonsense! I just hit the side of a barn
like two birds fleeing the hurled stone!
The Jones' barn?
Spot on.
Image from Missouri History Museum, photographer unknown, dated circa 1901 in Public Domain.
Sunday, May 15, 2016
I can chillax, can you?
There is only one thing
you likely don't know about me-
And that is-
I make the most interesting
ice cubes-
Of course, others make these too-
and I know I do not do the freezing
alone-
But-you cannot deny-it is I
who puts the water right there-
where now there-is occupied in ice-
Nice-right?
I mean-
I made the molecules-merely
molded them there, made it "New"
like an Artist-Scientist-
BWAH-HA-HA-HA!
My lips must be numb...
And that facet too, micro-magic,
like Prozac-
s-s-l-o-o-o-o-w-w-i-n-n-n-g down those
neural leaps-or lips-I must be numb-or dumb?
And yet regardless, the swelling still subsides.
Cryo-linguistically speaking, I guess
I have adept-ed and tuned this chill-
And yes, I can perform this skill
upon request-particulate-ly
for any swollen or hot head guest
who may have hit their head
like me-
and like to eat their water too.
Image By CopyrightFreePhotos CopyrightFreePhotos.HQ101.com (Own work by uploader [1]) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
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