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Array ( [sid] => 150931 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Kicked [time] => 2009-06-22 12:57:16 [hometext] => [bodytext] => What governs curves
but oblong paisley eccentricities,
names written wildly,
biplanes up in the sky?
The Wild West would lasso undulous shapes,
materialize cacti in the air,
so I think that oft-kicked spurs
are more chastened than
their linear stars.

Curves:
Women's intelligencia
of breasts and fledgling temple
shrines. But I think that man has some
happy mastery
as he makes across a neonate,
depositing, perhaps, the most pristinely
mellow curve of all,
wishing that the container's temperament matched his
chastened
result.

The baby kicks fervidly, without a warned reason,
(Reasons would be surprised at their invocation within the nonsense),
and the husband is reasonably proud
of healthy male physicality.

But now everyone is angry--
the kicking baby, the mother,
the agitated husband.

Yet when the mother
alone fumes,
because the baby has stopped kicking
and she suddenly conflates of the cessation
unrequited love,
the husband wishes he could swap

furors
which are now hard to separate
as furors lose their reasons
mostly pomp and vitriol.

Wishes:
See the irascible baby's
helpless kicks,
and laugh at those--
instead of his wife's potency
(more at mudslinging
against humble
husbands). [comments] => 1 [counter] => 165 [topic] => 73 [informant] => screwge [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => abstract )
Kicked

Contributed by screwge on Monday, 22nd June 2009 @ 12:57:16 PM in AEST
Topic: abstract



What governs curves
but oblong paisley eccentricities,
names written wildly,
biplanes up in the sky?
The Wild West would lasso undulous shapes,
materialize cacti in the air,
so I think that oft-kicked spurs
are more chastened than
their linear stars.

Curves:
Women's intelligencia
of breasts and fledgling temple
shrines. But I think that man has some
happy mastery
as he makes across a neonate,
depositing, perhaps, the most pristinely
mellow curve of all,
wishing that the container's temperament matched his
chastened
result.

The baby kicks fervidly, without a warned reason,
(Reasons would be surprised at their invocation within the nonsense),
and the husband is reasonably proud
of healthy male physicality.

But now everyone is angry--
the kicking baby, the mother,
the agitated husband.

Yet when the mother
alone fumes,
because the baby has stopped kicking
and she suddenly conflates of the cessation
unrequited love,
the husband wishes he could swap

furors
which are now hard to separate
as furors lose their reasons
mostly pomp and vitriol.

Wishes:
See the irascible baby's
helpless kicks,
and laugh at those--
instead of his wife's potency
(more at mudslinging
against humble
husbands).




Copyright © screwge ... [ 2009-06-22 12:57:16]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: Kicked (User Rating: 1 )
by ATG on Monday, 22nd June 2009 @ 01:05:55 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
Wow, I had to read it twice. Partly because it such an unusual and interesting poem and partly because its very complicated (Not in a bad way) I like your style of writing. Thanks for the poem.




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