The Tense Poets Poem by Mason Maestro

Now as you have the lyrics
I'll pour onto your scroll
All the things that writers might allude to in their role
And when that scroll gets heavy
With impromptu providence 
I'd put it to my lip and sip its meaning and its sense
Gleaming in a sense
It has no tense so let's commence it 

Well, the verses often layer
On each rhythmic-built metre
And there we see allegory in sight
of the reader

It's the tense that howls at nothing
It's the tense that ducks and hides
It's the tense that parts the artless tossers and bog off out of sight

The words above the furrow
Drag the stanzas like a plow
Through fragment ends that tries and tests
and leaves you asking how

The how is pinned and prostrate
Lines lie against the pen
The timing, tone and pitch repeats until its time to go again 
It's time to go again 

Well there are precious few
That escapes the poets of old
Robert Frost, Edgar Allan Poe or... Mason Maestro 
There's Gilgamesh on tablet form with epic mysteries 
When lyroems confound with irony, puns and dark analogies