Shankanostrophy – the Imminence of Terse Verse

So, work’s been good… As evidence, I’ve only written a few new tiny poems. I like the lack of editing which the Twitter process allows (fitting it in between spreadsheet refreshes and screaming silently at the telephone). I don’t know about you but I get incredibly angry and overheat if I don’t find some vent. Apparently it’s not considered the done thing to shank your cube mates with an HB. If you want this sort of aggressive wordery immediately, follow @shankanalia on Twitter. Otherwise I’ll randomly upload a bunch here.

Warm To The Touch
Your heat makes me sweat,
Dampening me,
Dripping on my anger coil.
Drip drip,
Explosive chemistry,
Heat makes me punch you.

No, you’re wrong.
You’re almost right, and you think you’re right.
But you’re not – you’re wrong.
If you’re right then I’m wrong.
I’m not.

Cranial Onomatopoeia
The sound of your skull
As it bounces off the steps.
Yes, I’ve detached your unused brain case
And kicked it down the stairs.

Log off
Log on
Draw sword
Slash down
The pieces make effective shrapnel.

How Nice That You Came To See Me 2
There’s something about your smile,
That makes me shrink away;
There’s something about your laugh,
That makes me cringe inside.
I don’t want to die.

A Match Made In Heaven
My fiery passion ignites your soul.
Sweet tinder heart,
You are fuel to my fire.
Conflagration delicto.
Husky burned love hole.

Own It
Is it you or is it me?
I’m guessing,
Only guessing,
A shot in the dark,
A child in a well,
The stars to a blind man,
Kisses for a troll…
It’s you.

We thought of using a system,
No one’s done this before,
We each created one of our own,
And rejected each others’,
Now we have twelve systems.


Similar Stuff

Share This Thing

Share on facebook
Share on twitter
Share on email
Share on tumblr
Share on whatsapp

Leave a Reply