I love the sense in nonsense

 

​

Sometimes we stand at a mic to tell stories

Stories that are in fact allegories

Because truth is fiction, only fiction with better diction

So please listen to the precision within my concision

 

These ditties and verse are no mess

Nor are their neither a game of chess

Instead allow me to confess the reason for my largess

 

For words are meant to remain

Long after their haunting refrain,

Not for their meaning or fact

In fact, words can be just that – words, words and nothing more

Jest at best and yet somehow…still more, to explore

 

So come near, lend me you ear, perhaps you’ll hear,

Hear this world of sound, all around,

Waiting to astound and abound

 

And you may say this is another digression

But when poetry is in session so to begins my obsession,

To take your time and make it rhyme simply because the sound, sounds, sublime

Because words can be mellifluous, superfluous and yet serendipitous

And perhaps you are thinking I have swallowed a thesaurus

But have no worries for I am literally literarily porous  

 

But even within me there are the constraints of structure

That allow one to bend shape but never rupture

So much so that I respect the end is near

But there remains a few choice words I still wish you to hear

 

And yes I know this is my shortcoming

But I profess, prepare yourself, incoming –

 

I am serious this may be deleterious,

Even pernicious pugnacious with more than a touch of imperious

But I am neophyte who clings to the fight with all my might

Watch me draw up my height to combat the blight, enter headfirst into this bullfight

For the love and lust of the scared word

Can be the most alluring, soaring, songbird

They are a portent, an omen

Soporific, Pertinent and forever a showman

 

So do not be misled

Words are not dead

For words are language

Without which nothing could be s-