How to Poetry (Highbrow Exclusive)

Start off with a vague phrase.

Something you and only God knows what.

Keep it.

For that be your refrain.

Start off by invocation.

To the forces of nature, trees and spirits.

For they be dildos and vibrators.

Orgasmic causalities.

Let this stanza be disconnected.

No way in sync with its predecessor.

Quote some obscure reference.

For they should know that you be deep.

Or,

For better

Effect create,

A procession,

Of disjointed,

Meaningless

Syllables.

Like a queue.

Will symbolize,

Intellect.

Rape and murder grammar.

Syntax you never heard of.

Wave poetic license around,

To anyone who dare question.

End with a vague phrase.

Something you and only God knows what.

Keep it.

For that be your refrain.

Poop.

Drama Class

Answers in monosyllabic phrases –

Mostly dramatis personae.

The machine on podium chugs on and on –

Expelling monotonous, rattling sounds.

Floating in the air above everyone’s head –

Like dry turds in water.

My love for literature (Raped and Murdered)

Turned in its year old grave.

500 Words From My Mostly Narcissistic Train of Thoughts

Stream of consciousness? That is an interesting line of thought. Talking of lines, I like parallel lines. They are so close, yet so far. That reminds me of parallel dimensions. It’s strange to imagine a world where things are not the way they are in our world. But imagination is boundless. If we imagine well enough, we can see the whole world in a grain of sand. If I remember correctly, that was written by William Blake. “To see the world in a grain of sand,/ And a heaven in a wild flower,/ Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,/ And eternity in an hour.” Poetry. One of my friends remarked once that poetry is the constipation of words. Constipation must be a very uncomfortable situation. Not being able to expel what you want to expel. I have never been constipated before. But I have had loose motions in the past. I remember some of my friends making black tea for me on one of those occasions and warning me that it might be too strong. I like my tea strong. Strong tea helps wake me up. I’m woken up every day by my bio-clock. The same kind of bio-clocks are present in all animals. Some, like humans learn to fine tune it to suite their daily routines. My daily routine these days involve waking up late. I don’t like being late for anything. It irritates the hell out of me when people are late. I’ve been talking less about people and more about me. That’s not right. This note is all about what goes through my head in a span of five minutes. If a major part of those thoughts are about me, isn’t that conclusive proof that I have narcissistic tendencies? That’s a nice word, narcissism. But it’s difficult to spell. I don’t like big difficult words. Why complicate stuff when you can have a simpler alternative? After all, that’s the whole point of modern civilization right? Increasing efficiency levels. That reminds me of the time my teacher taught me the difference between Efficiency and Effectiveness. It was well over a year ago and since I learned it for the sake of passing an exam, I’ve forgotten it. Quite natural. What is natural? I’d say natural is anything that is not unnatural. The definitions still remain as the problem. Interestingly, what is the definition of a definition? On second thought, that is an easily answerable question and therefore not interesting at all. So, regular and ordinary are quite uninteresting. That’s quite interesting. Quite. That reminds me, I have been rambling on for quite a while now. Then again, it will be foolish of me to hope that anyone who started reading this might still be reading. But hope is a good thing. Maybe the best of things. And no good thing ever dies. And yet again, I’m quoting someone else. Andy from Shawshank Redemption this time. With all that hope, my incessant train of thoughts chugs on.