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Description
The New Poem

This is post-mortem modernism,
dead words about future events long gone.
This is post-modern mortism,
unborn fetuses of dead roses at dawn.

I long to incarnate and deviate,
incantate and aberrate,
assassinate my long gone fate
because with humanity I cannot relate.

"…So what do I do now?..."
Play a bit with sound,
even if you start screaming.
Throw a bunch of words around
and someone will give them meaning.
Even if they are… completely devoid of feeling.

Write about how life is a downward-spiral,
that's never been done before!
Or maybe you prefer vampires?
Allow me to throw in blood and gore.
No matter what you write about,
remember this little advice:
try to make comparisons like
people are just like mice.
"That makes no goddamn sense…"
But you must rhyme, you see,
or no one will ever read it.
Or maybe you should go on a sarcasm-spree,
I'm sure it'd be a smashing hit!
"You just broke the rhyming scheme…"
Oh, and remember to make puns,
people always love those.
And talk about your exes and huns,
preferably with a lack of clothes.

And remember to talk about me!
"Who?"
Your muse…
My muse doesn't amuse me.
I wish she'd let me be.
My muse doesn't amuse me,
she reminds me of a banshee.
She likes to play with sound,
screaming at the top of her lungs.
And also to play with words,
she makes me speak in tongues.
My muse doesn't amuse me,
she just doesn't see.
She's not a separate entity,
my muse… is me.

Description
The New Poem

This is post-mortem modernism,
dead words about future events long gone.
This is post-modern mortism,
unborn fetuses of dead roses at dawn.

I long to incarnate and deviate,
incantate and aberrate,
assassinate my long gone fate
because with humanity I cannot relate.

"…So what do I do now?..."
Play a bit with sound,
even if you start screaming.
Throw a bunch of words around
and someone will give them meaning.
Even if they are… completely devoid of feeling.

Write about how life is a downward-spiral,
that's never been done before!
Or maybe you prefer vampires?
Allow me to throw in blood and gore.
No matter what you write about,
remember this little advice:
try to make comparisons like
people are just like mice.
"That makes no goddamn sense…"
But you must rhyme, you see,
or no one will ever read it.
Or maybe you should go on a sarcasm-spree,
I'm sure it'd be a smashing hit!
"You just broke the rhyming scheme…"
Oh, and remember to make puns,
people always love those.
And talk about your exes and huns,
preferably with a lack of clothes.

And remember to talk about me!
"Who?"
Your muse…
My muse doesn't amuse me.
I wish she'd let me be.
My muse doesn't amuse me,
she reminds me of a banshee.
She likes to play with sound,
screaming at the top of her lungs.
And also to play with words,
she makes me speak in tongues.
My muse doesn't amuse me,
she just doesn't see.
She's not a separate entity,
my muse… is me.