Undefined

The ‘undefined constant extension’

Arrived this morning without mention

A compendium of poem’s gone unread

As though the author herself, were dead

 

Founder of The Dead Poet’s Society

Not the first or second, but number three

Dubious author of stories gone unread

That still remained inside her head

 

"I must get them down on paper,"

A mystery, a who-dun-it, and a caper

But in the end, a stifling writers block

Caused her to work against the clock

 

One more day passes and I drift

Ever onward towards no man’s land

Surely, words will my spirits to lift

By candle light, parchment paper and hand

 

With inconsequential grace

I try to avoid the subject of my waste

Hastily, penned a wondrous lullaby

Gone unread, will surely nullify

 

The ink well begins to run dry

And I’ve not yet written the conclusion

Never providing the reader with a ‘why’

So, my undefined extant becomes illusion

 

“Write something! ANYTHING!”

Becomes my mantra for the day

Fear is tolerable for the forgotten---

Much less worse, than nothing to say

Nothing there, nothing to write---

But just a constant deafening waste

To my words valiantly, gave life

An utterance or two, penned in haste

 

Then, all my worst fears were realized

As I called out across the cliffs-----

An echoless chamber came to symbolize

A hollow reckoning of tongue tied riffs

Into the ultraverse, I hollered out in vain

"Someone READ me!"  Was my cry---

A brief moment of inspiration as refrain

Only a deafening stillness was my reply

It was just the ‘undefined constant extension’

Words written, un-reviewed without mention

Thoughts forever held in detention

And without memory, unsustained retention 

The undefined constant extension

Readers, my poems could not lure---

the 'undefined constant extension'

for this ailment, there was no cure

Undefined

Undefined

Under rhymed

Out of time

Reviews

[Ian Craven]

Very nice, you are talented.

[Chris]

Very tongue-in-check I would say...