Relentless Whatever
#1
Relentless Whatever 

I miss writing about things not serious.
Skipping politics, war, stuff that makes me furious.
Maybe I'll write about a cat or a shitty ex.
Pretending my words might cast a hex.

God forbid that I rhyme for fun.
There are big words to spell, minds to be won.
Flexing unstressed hoping someone understands.
That my thesaurus replaced my best friend.

Maybe I'll write about smoking pot.
I only smoke to prevent cancerous knots.
Definitely not because of post traumatic stress,
I just want something that makes my mind rest.

So maybe I'll test to see if I can write for shits,
hoping that it makes a bad day shift.
Because writing isn't about proving you right
It can be something simply stated for a writers delight.
Only one thing is impossible for God: To find any sense in any copyright law on the planet.
--mark twain
Bunx
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#2
wow bunx, really enjoyed that.

The Spencerian sonnet addled my brain,
ditto the french forms each with a refrain.
No imagery crying for Japanese count,
not even a limerick to snicker about.
Alliteration worn out, metaphor fled,
no rhymes or allusions left in my head.
No burning emotions, no secrets confessed,
for a mind that's blank it's Blank Verse that's best.
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#3
Haha I enjoyed your riff'n too. I'm currently killing a 24 hr airplane route back home to Montana. Writing makes the time just fly
Only one thing is impossible for God: To find any sense in any copyright law on the planet.
--mark twain
Bunx
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#4
Hey Bunx-
The funnest lines in this one for me were unrhymed:
Flexing unstressed hoping someone understands.
That my thesaurus replaced my best friend.


(My how time does fly on airplanes)
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#5
well-done, bunx

I have a soft spot for meta poetry as well:


Poets Play Chess

Poets play chess, I know this because
they were down at the bar drinking liquor through straws,
kicking cats and making an awful big mess.
One of them wore the cutest black dress

that he tore off in strips (to much applause)
and bound that poor cat round its feet and its jaws.
They all started sneering and pounding their breasts.
Poets play chess

you see, though one also draws
pictures of flowers arranged in a vase
and one juggles swords to the glee of the guests
still another breathes fire (we're very impressed)
though I think it might break the local fire laws.
Poets play chess.
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#6
Thanks Milo! I feel bad for those poor cats though haha. I had to remind myself to not take things too seriously.

Mark I thought that line should be relatable haha
Only one thing is impossible for God: To find any sense in any copyright law on the planet.
--mark twain
Bunx
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#7
(01-19-2026, 03:44 AM)Bunx Wrote:  Thanks Milo! I feel bad for those poor cats though haha. I had to remind myself to not take things too seriously.

Mark I thought that line should be relatable haha

It is possible they may not have been "true" poets now that I think of it as "true" poets have a soft spot for cats.  It is canonical.
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#8
Yeah I thought that was a requirement for all poets and decent people lol.
Only one thing is impossible for God: To find any sense in any copyright law on the planet.
--mark twain
Bunx
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