Five Minute Poetry: 'Back'stabber

I've got my back up against this wall and I'm traveling backwards

Bravado brain bored and bored into the thought of getting back to you

Backsliding and backhanding my own backbone

Backpedaling into the backwardness that is the backstage of my bereavement

While background music attempts to cover the backfired backlash

As I back away

Backless and taken aback

.FIN

Five Minute Poetry/Word of the Day: Denigrate...

I love writing, and I've been on hiatus from everything AGAIN lately, but today my writing peaked and I am happy to present a new piece...Alliterative in nature and rather alluring...


denigrate \DEN-i-greyt\,
verb:to attack the character or reputation of; defame


I'm putting on my armor today as I feel the onset of an amorous assault


I assume I've a reason to assimilate to the asymmetry the asinine associations I've assumed


But today I'll bear the battle-axe of banishment during the funeral of my bereavement


And I swear I'll slay many slanderous soldiers with this sword


For fornicating fastidiously on the fulcrum of my fragile fort


I denounce the denigration directed distortedly, distracting me


And deny soldiers, surreptitiously daunting their deeds


Armor arduously aroused


.FIN

Five Minute Poetry: Pregnant with Promise...

Everything old is new again...Last winter I became pregnant with promise and birthed 12 infantile begin agains...I binged on them for a while and purged them when I saw there was no promise in them at all...Illegitimate children...Bastards of my own ignorance and numerous misnomerings of things that did not deserve numbers nor names...And as a new winter presses on, I find myself pregnant with promise again; bracing myself for an embrace that will erase the old things that abated and bate me...

.FIN

Five Minute Poetry/Word of the Day: Gaffe

gaffe \gaf\, noun:
a blunder; faux pas

I've garishly made a gargantuan gaffe

And I'm scoffing at myself as I make calculated moves

Towards finishing this thing off

By thing I mean the thing I thought thoroughly thoughtful enough

To not belittle me in my bereaved stature

Head hanging and hollowed out

Tongue dripping with the secret secretions

The taste of you has left behind

And steadfast in making a return

As if to war

.FIN