PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Written un Zen like pomes

in the surgical removes of sanity;

the density of clouds

debated by meteorologists

stoned on the mist of Autumn eve

& the solitude

got to me and I finally snapped.

It were too late to save me;

The angels all returned to heaven

in the tattered loins of Zeus

& I was held for questioning

by the Cosmic Psychotic Police

believing I had a motive

to commit the crime of literature.

But I became too conscious of it

& hence had to give it up

& hence had to give it up;

move on to some new dilemma

in some other realm

into which I do not wish to enter