The “language of love” and its
diction inflated
Leaves curmudgeons like me a little
discombobulated.
Wading words namby-pamby and verses
verbose
Gets me lost in the middle. I'm not
even close.
A lackadaisical poet might insist that
I cleave.
Horsefeathers! Bunkum! That could
mean stay or leave.
Yet, the worst oxymoron is this
hypocrite's 'tude,
As my poems take sometimes lugubrious
moods.
Prompt: Make a list of ten of your favorite words. Then use all of them in a poem.
ReplyDeleteMost of my favorite words are long and archaic obscure, but I tend to use them sparingly. However, to make ten of them sound natural in a poem together, I'd have to write a poem at least as long as "Ball" or "The Ballad of the Writers Three." So instead I'll just sound like a total asshole, not for the first time.