deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Art of Babbling
Drowning in metaphors.
Strangled by similes.
What are you saying?
Is this suppose to make sense?
Drinking in your poetic babble like sticky honey dripping from a gargling mouth of a snarling beast. Reading the words scrolled across the screen in black and white, too much figurative language that the poem has lost all meaning to it. Staring at the screen, half way through this work of art. . .
Oops-- fell asleep, your words put me to sleep faster than math class after an insomnia trip.
How's that for a metaphor?
As you hide what you're trying to say because all you know how to do is pretend even with freedom of expression. People read your poems and not even the transparent eyeball of the transcendental universe knows what you're talking about. A good writer you can be if you don't kill the poem with so many cliches and hidden meanings. Is that why my poems hurt so much? Because they're straight forward and honest-- while yours lack a realness to them, they are nothing that the average mind can understand-- a person with higher level vocabulary than you doesn't understand the babbling garbage it is that you post.
I'm not saying that you suck at writing.
I'm saying you suck at letting people understand what you're writing.
Babble
Babble
Babble--
Blah, blah, blah--
A place in biblical text in which in the city of Babel, no one spoke the same language and so no one knew what anyone was saying-- that's how your poems leave people feeling. . .
Questioning what the hell they just read?
Drowning in metaphors.
Strangled by similes.
Blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah. . .
Blah
BLah
BLAh
BLAH!!!!!!!
Beep, beep, beep beeeeeeeeeeeeeep-- beep, beep. . .
Oops you bored me to death for a minute there.
Welcome to the art of Honesty, not Babble.
Strangled by similes.
What are you saying?
Is this suppose to make sense?
Drinking in your poetic babble like sticky honey dripping from a gargling mouth of a snarling beast. Reading the words scrolled across the screen in black and white, too much figurative language that the poem has lost all meaning to it. Staring at the screen, half way through this work of art. . .
Oops-- fell asleep, your words put me to sleep faster than math class after an insomnia trip.
How's that for a metaphor?
As you hide what you're trying to say because all you know how to do is pretend even with freedom of expression. People read your poems and not even the transparent eyeball of the transcendental universe knows what you're talking about. A good writer you can be if you don't kill the poem with so many cliches and hidden meanings. Is that why my poems hurt so much? Because they're straight forward and honest-- while yours lack a realness to them, they are nothing that the average mind can understand-- a person with higher level vocabulary than you doesn't understand the babbling garbage it is that you post.
I'm not saying that you suck at writing.
I'm saying you suck at letting people understand what you're writing.
Babble
Babble
Babble--
Blah, blah, blah--
A place in biblical text in which in the city of Babel, no one spoke the same language and so no one knew what anyone was saying-- that's how your poems leave people feeling. . .
Questioning what the hell they just read?
Drowning in metaphors.
Strangled by similes.
Blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah
blah. . .
Blah
BLah
BLAh
BLAH!!!!!!!
Beep, beep, beep beeeeeeeeeeeeeep-- beep, beep. . .
Oops you bored me to death for a minute there.
Welcome to the art of Honesty, not Babble.
Published 31st Jan 2012
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 1
reading list entries 0
comments 0
reads 717
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
