A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.

but aren't they all random?

Sunday, July 07, 2024

Impromtitude

Microphone take, no drop just yet

TIME to origin ATE CREE-ATE, BET?
I WANT MY TWO DOLLARS don’t
holler your spores, you got slick
scoot mucous and phlegm some
adore, so coot cutie cooch boots
to the ants of swarm! Go get your
hive mind when it bees too warm!

Go get your sane in
Get your balance CZECH.
Get out in Oklahomo where they
dance sing correct, correct how?
Wrecked what? I AM NOT ONLY
AIM just YET NO BODY MIND
DILLEMA IS SANE, PROBABLY
say LEM! Lemmy Kilmister popped
all the head-up wide-kneed stance
in the shop, slapped the BASS AN
-THEM

Calling ‘Ace of Spades!’
Well I’m the Ace of Fives
Don’t jab your jive jazz HANDS
up my conscious rise, or I’ll ride
you right from conscience
straight breaking the plane,

liminal.

Go express! Ain’t no
stops in your brain
or

well.
You know it.

Well better than I could ever
FLOW IT, HOLBES

wait up hey hey wait
what the what’s the
what’s a ‘holbes’ though
HOLBES?

I’m calling you holbes

so check it with your own,
‘Mike.’ that’s a true mean
measuring stick only a mother
could like, only you can lick

your own
holbes,
right?

OK OK MEBBE
kick Motorhead maybe
watch The Young Ones
Monty Python is Dead
Tott, Long Live The Neetch
(If He Taught You To Curse, But)

You live in reserve, what
he could
not

touch. 

Let alone
reach

______________________

Optional Art


“You Can Touch”
Crowded House art
by Nicholas Seymour
(the bassist and visuals
maven on stage and
screen, saving)

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