The time has come
“The Rockstar” said
To speak of oblong things
Of blues and reds
and other meds
let bring on all-that-sings
Sweet melody:
blissful silence
will it ring? so sweetly as to be

out with reason
out with rhyme:
prithee thee, lay me under
foot by feet,
and for all time.

Weakness: this is nothing more
and nothing new
pathetic he, indeed.
So easily
it is, this to abhor.

This, it:
is true.

These years go by
burning on through
Pain: but wants
for quickness too.
Put this thing out,
prithee you: Extinguish ever more
so, these senseless lines
Sew it up in time
too static for design.

Down; numb; proactive as dumb
Furious to climb,
The Long & Short Hands: perpetual motion
only in forward forever they swing,
And “timing is everything!”

So, won: fair-and-square;
Layered Wedding Cake.
Perform for attendance;
not there, for Christ’s sake!
No dowry dream cast
for She, Buprenorphine!
Like Country Club Camp

Hill steeped in Hell’s ramp
511°: heat, for East resident.
Impractical needle;
most practically knit.

Meanwhile means nothing.
And nothing becomes of it.

Distracted, diminished, detract it: a trade.
Spin a new wheel: Lose a turn;
The mind soon to fade.
Must buy the vowel; what puzzle will find?
No answer exists!
Consoled with a prize: owned and take-home;
Embraced and surprised.
Lost eyes, by now should be dry.
Go now, be patient, and so much more pleased!
Permanent label reads thus so: “Diseased”.

Though made a clean break,
It’s give, and it’s take,
And shaking so still:

“I hope I die,
before I wake!”
One less thing,
might to forsake.

What fires they tell
If there is a Hell.
Perhaps?
Oh well.
Take to canoe,
upon its fiery lake!

§ Revised, expanded edition: © 2013 by J Sabarese §