The Blab of the Wave

of Modern Day Poetry,

A Babylonian

Babble of Bubble,

the Flotsam and Jetsam

of every new Word,

  non-ausculatable.

 

And nothing, 

  though something,

is everywhere heard,

  I cannot but think

that somehow the Poesy

  sails on the swells

of a rather rough sea;

 

Each boat 

  ill-equipped

with the un-equal oar,

that even while rowing

goes only so far.

 

Sometime, 

    Somewhere,

I missed the Last Boat,

  that Boat they took out

and Sunk in the Sea.

 

“Goodbye” to the Rhythm

of metrical line;

“Farewell” to the Tempo

of well-metered Time.

 

The Blab of the Wave

of Modern Day Poetry

replaced all of this

for the salt water brine.

 

And, Hence, just for this, 

  a Eulogy to the Poetry

long lost and all gone out to sea.

 

R.I.P. Sweet Poetry!

 

And there, by the grace

of the well anchored line,

go also old sea-dogs like me.

 

 

 

 

©2013, Marvin Loyd Welborn