Besotted Seaman's Chambers

What say we drink, lads 

To the clink precious 
Glassy pebbles make as they 
Make their way under- 
Water near fabled shores— 

Next bring up 
That drunken image 
Of a nautilus flush 
With pearls 

Of wisdom scuttled 
On the bottom 
Of some blind poet’s wine- 
Dark sea floor, 

Then drink, drink till 
There’s no more rhyme
Or reason to remain 
Afloat any more. 

Perseverence First Of All

To even think of being 

A poet, right off 
One must remember not 

To try so hard as to forget 
You were not born one. 

The Poet As Panderer

Words come easily 
When you play hard to get— 

When you go soft, they’re just 
Someone else’s bitches. 

Poem Surreptitiously Called "The Susurrus Of Curtains"

Born to be ambiguous, 
Whatever he meant 
By titling it thus, 
One thing’s clear— 

In without his knowing 
It, he would have to 
Talk his way out of it 
Or else— 

Huuklyeand Cinquor On Going In Circles

Someone’s forever
Telling me 

Somewhere round 
Here is a square peg. 



Moderator’s comments: The apotheosis of the absurd in only eleven words; however, what remains of my frazzled logic impels me to peg the odds at 99-1 that prior to writing this “exercise in futility,” Cinquor envisaged the specter of the great Archimedes (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Archimedes) uttering his famous last words “Do not disturb my circles” just before an enraged, mathematically ignorant Roman soldier “put him in a pine box” for what he thought was insubordination when, in reality, all the good mathematician had in mind was to continue his line of thought undisturbed, outside the box!

 

Haiku: Poet Overboard!

Rudderless craft, why 

Do your gulls keep flying in 
Eccentric circles? 

Stay Of Execution

Living on borrowed 
Time, the words were 

Anxious to say what 
They wanted but without 

Sounding too grasping—they knew 
All too well the absurdity 

Of a sentence truncated 
In midair 

Without pausing as long 
As humanly possible there.