1.
Solitary confinement
for all those now on line,
especially with names exactly
like mine,
There are hundreds...
But I'm the true one,
who informs then that
all is fake...
As for Pitter! Patter!
or real living matter,
No!
I refuse on grounds
that there is no true
real me,
Just this malignant trapped
being, screwing words onto
vast sockets of thought,
And that the bulb
glares within -
Yes - lights out now,
- forget it,
Kill meaning!
2.
That wasn't cheap!
this isn't cheap...
they aren't cheap,
We're not...
We're not...
Worthy enough?
Oh! No! not coins,
not that shiny evil stuff,
Not again,
deface it,
try a cheaper one,
A Saviour of rot
that's what we've got,
Your awful highness,
I may salute you -
some day, though.
(from beyond the grave...)
3.
I took the 'C' out of cheap,
and was left with a pile
of stones - a mile high!
When poetry is nowhere
and I'm someone else,
beyond some black curtain,
slobbering over a hot - peach,
I mean 'really! '
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
cheap is very rich divide it bring singularity people generally avoids lengthy one the world of sms... short memorable and serious nice poem