Daily Archives: April 16, 2013

UPDATE: APOLOGY

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This is a parody of what happens online via incredibly stupid youtube comments…..this is a funny hypothetical example. Enjoy.

DEAR READERS,

I have been noticing that the quality of my poems have been degraded and turned into a pablum-like mush of tasteless thoughts: in short, I hope to recover your senses by offering you more interesting posts.

Now, dear readers, even if you feel the need to contradict me, please keep your rebuttals to yourself, as all unhappy poets are something of a whiplashing tornado and do not stop metaphorically thrashing until they are fully satisfied with their work.

—the profusely apologizing Golden Star Poetry

DEER GOLDEN STAR POETRY

i don know wat u mean. ur posts r awsom and they r soo well rittin!! omg!! y r u so hard on urself?

from,
a reeder

DEAR “REEDER”,

not only have you gone against my wishes and rebutted, but you have also given me the staggering task of deciphering your incredibly bad spelling. Well, I wont hurt you too badly for rebutting, the word was probably not in your vocabulary, which, as we all know, is quite marvelously large. However, I really would appreciate it if you stopped commenting on this post. Thank you.

Golden Star Poetry

DEER GSP,

whaaa? i don know what…..like…r u insulting me?….cuthat’s meeeannn. ;-(

The same reeder

DEAR REEDER,

sigh.

The Gobi Desert Cycle-VOICE

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VOICE

a hilly valley of sound,

not quite up or down

but both, I think, one crack following another

that has it’s own sort of  vain charm.

 

hoarse and high pitched at the same sound plateaus

nothing more than laughs and question marks

that edge at the air just for the sake of respect, without real sencerity

“I don’t know” seems to be you’re favorite line (what a pity).

 

I can clearly remember a conversation I heard on the bus

some uneducated minor

talking on the phone  about how he was going to get drunk at the end of the day

and then, sadly, it made me think about how much that sounded like you.

 

Tear apart all the words!”

The protesters make it clear of the human condition-

now I want to mangle your grammar and contort all your sentences

until they land right side up on my ears, clean and poetic, and then I will smile and say:

“son, NOW you’re making some sense”

but it doesn’t help a bit.

Copyright 2013 Golden Star Poetry