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Nonsensical Poetry

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Where poetry doesn't need to make sense, or even be very good!

I'll start:

Giant teacup of the world

slanted, stewed, steeped lives

imagine my fingers as fungal growths

my toes as tumours

my brain a bunion

sprouting on my nobbed neck

comfort.

The armature, the lazy song

Centipedes taking dogs for walks

Humming to the clock, tick-tock

The sapling figurines distaste

to flowered spines and thorny face

cleaved roses from the rock and stream

the sky, it rose a melody

deep thought, it sang, tick-tock

and in the briny sands of time

the creaking of the clock in wind

came a numerical menagerie

of serpent dots and whirly Q’s

with tails that dripped with morning dew

that sweeter then the rock candy

dusted on the twilight blue

to misty murk and bursting shore

I cried my heart, for wanting more

the flesh of apple then the core

then adumbrate, then no more,

for sweetest was the bite before.

(Now that I read it again, the ending begins to make sense, haha.)

my toes as tumours

my brain a bunion

I love the imagery of those lines! It inspires me to write trans-nonsensical poetry!

In rotting symmetry.

High and low,

my belly will curl. (like hair on a spindle sander. ahem)

Fetal dreams in fatal positions.

English breakfast in chinatown mugs. (the dirty kind)

kindred grinding in the untouchable years. 

pushing muscles,

pulling muscles.

romanticidal logic,

tearing heads apart.

(siamese style yo.)

*said in snooty british accent*

Sin appz.

hardwired, open minded, free thinker, 

or so you keep repeating,

over and over again. (like a hypocritical christian fundy)

"Counter-intuition will destroy you,

and expand you. Simultaneously."

Simon says insatiably. ( while licking his lips and rolling his eyes, in circular movements, similar to that of a teddy bear with a knife.) 

over and over again.

THEN YOU CONCEDE!

but quickly quip a defusitory remark (which alleviates the situation by stripping the significance of the attack as nothing more than a transient blip on the radar of acknowledgement)

Simon flops down.

Identifriction.

transcendental,

but VERY FREAKIN' jaded.

simultaneously.

dualities avant en garde.

God needs higher mountains,

War is so contagious.

stuck in indecisions,         ,         ,        ,        ,       ,

over and over again.

Irresolute

Irrevolution

under-Irreality.

so begins the angel hive.

in a world of complete liberation,

walls are beautiful STOP

for they tell you where you are STOP

defined by nothing but your prisons STOP

and thoughts STOP

and language STOP

thinking in words STOP

or pictures.  ??)

Is this not the prisoner's dilemma?

Stuck far out in indecisions,

over and over again. ( like pong)

Will you leave me here before you go? 

Don't answer.

just think about it.

over and over again. ( like the violating hook of a pop song)

la la la la