Allusions I

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Part one of an allusive ode to literature and its effect on our culture.

Submitted: April 24, 2016

A A A | A A A

Submitted: April 24, 2016



Like noise before it reaches sound.

Like vision before it is lighted,

I am hopelessly uneasy explaining what it is that I have invited.

Fragmented episodes play in my dreams--

They are so wildly indecisive.

So let us go then, you and I,

And vet filed termite pits.

OH, dearest of terms, please come forth in viscous wit.

Piece together my breath with the right words to recite it,

So that I may vamp this edition with no further defendants indicted.

So I can get to the point insofar as to smite it.


But the rendition of this edition is under the provision of your decisions.... And all the revisions are yours to destroy.


Come to, now...and say what it is that you desire.

Pay none to any of whom you feel you are wiser.

Fresh froth on the lips of the etherized miser.

Mock the parodies of tradition and lampoon those admired.


Yes, then, indeed.

On the morn...On the eve.

How late were his deeds?

His minimalist screeds?

Did his foggy panes well up with the jaundice disease?

Has the miser drifted out on a phosphorescent sea?

"5 o'clock, always...No alarm do I need."

How long was he conscious before his unconscious could bleed?

He left the rich land of his birth lest he succeed?

Just how much ether did this guy really breathe?

"Shall I say more, or shall I just read?

As no honest line am I prompted to knead."

And so just who is it then-- Yes, yes, indeed.

© Copyright 2018 Harry Chl. All rights reserved.

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