Okay...my swan song

[angstlessk]

The Angstless Poet

Woe is me, how could this happen?
a poetess sans tragedienne.
The pain of youth long since past
leaving not a twinge of angst.
What can I offer - a world in pain-
a simple lilting rhyme refrain?

The poor, perhaps, I can uplift
Rhyme wrapped as a gift.
Denounce the power of suppression
expose taxation as regression.
No, angst is their daily bread
Nevermind the aforesaid.

A woman, perchance, needs my rhyme
To disclose the paradigm.
Rebuke the blame and condemnation-
-her burden for mankind’s damnation.
Oh! But of course to man she’s wed
Nevermind the aforesaid.

Ah! Lovers in the throws of passion
would save a rhyme from the ash can.
Extol the pleasure of new found love
If only I had memories of.
Oh! Well, they spend their time abed
Nevermind the aforesaid.

A captive audience is what I need
whose egress I must impede.
Suppose prisoners on a rhyme diet
would shortly riot?
Death row inmates wishing they were dead!
Nevermind the aforesaid.

Woe is me, how could this be?
A poetess sans tragedy
Why not youth extend its reach?
Why must wisdom always teach?
Leaving but a shell of pain
And a lilting rhyme refrain?

[angstlessk]

1. And one I tried sans rhyme

I do not HAVE to rhyme and one of my favorite poems is about experiencing a poverty neighborhood firsthand....

poverty

The rodents and roaches are attracted to it
they always find cavernous passages
into the walls of the run down tenements
and dilapidated dwellings.
They follow the path of least resistance-
those pests.
No expensive poisons laid in their way
but the sweet pungent smell
of yeast and barley beckons them welcome.
And they are here to greet me
when I too
join the ever burgeoning ranks
of the working poor -
paying more for less until I give all for naught.
Then what?
enlarge the holes and join the scavenger pests?
The sound of it surrounds me -
the car in need of a muffler-become-luxurious
rumbles it's way down the street.
My own car
endeavoring to sound like an aviary
under attack by an army of cats.
Human voices -
not of playful children's
unrestrained laughter
but of emasculated adults
begging to be heard -
even by the powerless.
And every night
the human inhabitants fight -
as if to proclaim their existence
each to the other
and their rising voices
take on the characteristics
of a heart monitor
attached to a corpse.
(loud, flat, hopeless)
the gunfire -
never followed
by the anticipated
sirenes-only cadavers are
favored with the blue light special
in these-
the hospice neighborhoods
where all those afflicted
with terminal poverty
can fill the back wards of the city -
inconspicuous,
unobtrusive.
Replete with pain killers
(cocaine, alcohol, crack)
and screams of the hopeless
and blood
and fear

[awoke_in_2003]

3. Great. nt

[nilesobek]

2. No you do not HAVE to rhyme.

Thanks for this.