the thoughts in my head are like the ticking of a clock
when the time just wont stop
as hard as i try
i fear i may die
i always try to stop things that are near impossible to stop
like a bully and my peer
a master with a mop

--submitted by M. Plaskey
 


Cherri Busch
03/28/2013 9:49am

I've come to rely on AdvancedPoetry to provide me with a constant stream of meaningful poetry that explores the hidden depths of that which ails in our modern society, so I was at first befuddled about why they included this one.

So I've been wondering around the past few days with this poem always before my eyes trying to figure it out which is why, in a pique of exasperation at my misbehaving shitzu I blurted it out angrily, and finally a light dawned: think of Ginsberg, Kerouac, Burroughs, beat poets, where raw passion in an emotionally bared delivery skip over the rigours of the traditional poetic formats to reveal the soul of truth below via deed more than word. Combine that with with shadows of e. e. cummings and what we have here is something that truly tickles me!

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