deepundergroundpoetry.com
Jaded (Exeunt)
Once upon a Friday morning
Sunlight broke my gentle snoring
As my email, without warning
Showed a new note on the list--
A fellow poet's writing
(Which is always most exciting),
Yet this time was harsh and biting
As of someone wholly pissed;
Though it doesn't bear reciting,
In a nutshell, I was dissed.
T'was in a poets' forum
As I stood amongst the quorum;
To relieve my aching boredom,
Threw a question in their midst,
Nothing special, hardly aurum,
Though I asked with much decorum
(Always room left in the jorum
For a new romanticist),
Yet as though a tiny foram,
My intentions were dismissed.
Each piece with pen created,
Every word deliberated,
Ever scrutinized and weighted
With a dark and sexy twist--
Yet despite the question stated,
Since it went unmoderated,
Has me feeling rather jaded
As if punched by sudden fist;
Once the shock finally abated,
I looked back, for what I missed.
How notably defeatist
That a group's poetic genius
Be so blatantly elitist
As to dictate every tryst;
Whether language not the neatest,
Or inadequately Deist--
(Some hepcats think they're Jesus
or some kind of specialist)
Despite little antecedence
(Key signs of a narcissist).
So, in light of all this boasting,
And unnecessary roasting
In this pageant they are hosting
With their knickers in a twist,
My farewell, this poem is toasting,
On to better places coasting,
Not some place where folks are ghosting
Wielding ego from the mist--
Let this site go on composting,
While its ass proceeds unkissed.
-J.
Sunlight broke my gentle snoring
As my email, without warning
Showed a new note on the list--
A fellow poet's writing
(Which is always most exciting),
Yet this time was harsh and biting
As of someone wholly pissed;
Though it doesn't bear reciting,
In a nutshell, I was dissed.
T'was in a poets' forum
As I stood amongst the quorum;
To relieve my aching boredom,
Threw a question in their midst,
Nothing special, hardly aurum,
Though I asked with much decorum
(Always room left in the jorum
For a new romanticist),
Yet as though a tiny foram,
My intentions were dismissed.
Each piece with pen created,
Every word deliberated,
Ever scrutinized and weighted
With a dark and sexy twist--
Yet despite the question stated,
Since it went unmoderated,
Has me feeling rather jaded
As if punched by sudden fist;
Once the shock finally abated,
I looked back, for what I missed.
How notably defeatist
That a group's poetic genius
Be so blatantly elitist
As to dictate every tryst;
Whether language not the neatest,
Or inadequately Deist--
(Some hepcats think they're Jesus
or some kind of specialist)
Despite little antecedence
(Key signs of a narcissist).
So, in light of all this boasting,
And unnecessary roasting
In this pageant they are hosting
With their knickers in a twist,
My farewell, this poem is toasting,
On to better places coasting,
Not some place where folks are ghosting
Wielding ego from the mist--
Let this site go on composting,
While its ass proceeds unkissed.
-J.
Published 8th Apr 2016
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