A poem need not look like someone shook The Complete Oxford English Dictionary onto a page in order to have value.  Sometimes words can be easy, fleeting, free, or just fleeing from your mind. Rhyming, conniving, enthralling, and inviting your mind to come crawling for more.

Me³ is an example of one such poem.  Sometimes rhyme makes hard things tolerable.  Sometimes hyperbole makes ugly things beautiful.  Sometimes a poem is just…a poem.



Dementia out to get ya,
It’s got me and me and me.
But in this weird reality
You are living life as me,
Goodness me, we’re we, you see?
Bye-bye individuality,
A mentality’s fatality.
Oh the banality of brutality!
Third degree of the debris,
Which tumbled, tumbled, tumbled,
Out of your brainless tree.
I plant a seed, and need to sow
Row by row by row,
While you continue to row your boat,
Moat by moat by moat.
Sing a song of sailor’s drunk,
While locked inside your trunk,
Bob for apples, tanks that dunk,
While specters lose their lunch.
Who said that? Oh here I go,
Breathe upon your keys,
While tampering with a strangle hold,
Inside a lock that weeps.
Oiled down and tears a-flow,
I know that glowing soul,
Bubbling over, mulling whole,
No where but in to go.
No, not in, but out I say.
I say it thrice today.
But in is better than out, I pray
I won’t give you your way.
You give me? No, I give you
An eye that’s black and blue.
And also here’s a get-well card,
Oh dear, please mend soon!
And as for you, I’ve not forgot,
That evil heart you’ve got,
The one, the two, the three of us,
Your soul’s begun to rot.
The stink, it permeates the air,
My god it’s hard to breathe,
So won’t you please step over there,
And fester among the weeds,
While the rest of us make cover ups,
For all your needy deeds,
You bit the hand that feeds,
And now your crypt, it reads:
‘Twas a tale, ’twas a lie,
‘Twas a soul inside the sky,
‘Twas a misbegotten basis of
A trying sigh that cries.
Aye, the belying high of night.
The battle wages onward,
The fight it never stops,
The war amongst the lot of us,
Shall take us to the top,
Of a slayer’s chopping block.
You go first, please I insist.
Oh no no, after you.
Why thank you dear,
‘Tis in good cheer,
You don’t know what you missed.
There goes one, then there goes two,
And left is only me,
But I must follow me, I must,
So me shall cease to be.
But since you’re me,
And I don’t be,
What does that say of you?
If only you really had a clue,
If only you really knew.
If you knew,
or had a clue,
I know exactly what you’d do,
Of course I do, since I am you,
Here, I’ll share with you.
If you were me, you’d cease to be,
Just as I’m doing now.
If I was you, I’d start brand new,
And break the nameless vow.
The Me³ curse of how.


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