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No One Likes a Challenge A Challenger or One Who Wears Smart Pants


dissatisfaction
a word I just made up?

to describe the rot that has
infested my brain cells
and the lack of originality there recently

it is the fear all writers fear most
dull plodding sameness
dull plodding pedantry
I have lost my jack boots
can't kick a line out of the park
no more dark lines for the ditty girl here

maybe I can stoke the engine of aggravation
that is usually what gets things going again
some rotten monster of emotion
like anger/abandonment/sadness/fear
all of them on knees creeping together very near
unmanageable and all very bad children
making good poetry

everyone thinks emotions are such very bad things
"bad"
being a word which is utterly meaningless
but bandied about like salt and pepper to flavor
yet rendering the language and the listener
unable to guess at the meaning and the message

so, what is my point today...
for when a writer who most assuredly
wants to say something of great import
he/she often finds the reader
nodding off into his/her beer or
buying another coffee or deliberately skipping
certain words in lovingly worded sentences

true, there are times I feel manipulated
that i am some crackpot

but, what if I were simply not paying attention
and I was manipulating you
playing my readers like a cat toy

awww that wouldn't be nice, now would it

well this poem is covering the gambit of things
and it isn't a poem but a rant or a ramble of sorts

oh, I see, no one likes a Challenge
or a Challenger or One who wears
Smart Pants.

suddenly
I am feeling
very satisfied.
ahhhhh.


///////////////////////////////////



Yes, this is a rant of sorts, a little Tuesday morning exercize for
the fingers. You may have enjoyed or you may have been annoyed?

Copyright October 7, 2014 All Rights Are Reserved By This Author
Meloo/Melissa A Howells   Straight from Her Tilt-a-World





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