(the poem is it's own master, who I am to label it? I am but a vessel)
The son orenge shimer of goldfish, fliting in the river
Was...erm...gold and orenge and stuff...
It was nice, all suny, with goldfish and...the river, right there
(oops spellcheck on)
And the geisha's ribbon forms a silver line (yeah that sounds cool)
With the red of its thread and blood dyed satin (I got rhythm now...hold on to it,
hold on to it...don't lose it...ahhh crap...now what?)
Some girl, she has a ribbon, is she bleeding, nah...her ribbon is just red...or is it
silver, and is she anywhere near the river with the fish?
The gleem of a parry with a sword (cool—a swordfight...maybe there swordfish)
Glint of gray mirrored blades cause a clatter (throw in some alitaration...glint of
grey—gl and gr..both hard 'g' sounds...cause a clatter...hard 'c's) I better clear
a space for my trophy now...
Then it shatters, then it shatters (repeat and rime for affect—now build to the end)
(oops—how'd that happen?—spellcheck on)
I have to BUY the book? I got selected for the awards ceremony?
How much for a plane ticket, my work on a CD?
I was wrong above, it didn't shatter then—NOW it shatters, NOW it shatters...
First they flatter, but—
I have a printer and a big white fridge with magnets so why don't I just SELF
The dark swirling mess caused by death
The dark swirling mess (in my lounge room) caused by death (of my vacuum
With its heavy shroud of matter and a stiff bone hand (I think red right hand is
As it slips, as it slips (sounds so deep—it doesn't just slip, it keeps slipping, see?)
First the gnawing, then the roaring in your ears
Sounds of nothing as it goes, and now closes
All is silent, all is silent
Like that time I wrote and said I would love to accept my award, it was an honour,
unfortunately I couldn't make it to the ceremony—so could you just post the trophy
—but you didn't reply...and you didn't SEND my TROPHY
There's a space on the mantle shushing silence with its silence
As silence shuffles and muffles
(pause for tears, then dim the lights—let's make it spooky)
Bum bum bum da da da bum ba la la la de daaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
(low hum rising to piercing screech—to end)
Sent as a joke to poetry.com