To know the Haiku,
Is but a single step in
Ten Million Miles.
Allusion is Illusion.
Words are cheap,
For The only Word is Silence.
Then what is left as expression?
There are more things in Heaven and Earth.
For poetry meant to be farce,
It's sentencing is hard to parse.
A decent Limerick,
Should not make one sick,
As if it were pulled from the arse.
By far, the hardest form of expression is hyperbole.
Five hundred monkeys,
Working day and night at typewriters,
Could never truly express the concept.
Far greater men then I have tried, in success
Better then even the gods could hope for.
Bereft and lonely,
Like a derelict forgotten in the sea,
I ponder thoughts of simile.
For Everything2 there is a season,
For Everything2 there is a time.
But there isn't any particular reason,
For poetry, such as quatrain, to rhyme.
I fear the spite of many,
Cracks of lightning spurred by annoyance,
so after this metaphor I'll call it quits.