The Spoonbill Generator


What I say is seldom what I mean,

And what I write is never what I planned

but what I feel is a taunt aphorism

for intravenous time travel

Travelling in vein, becoming part of the machine

The pain of dispute woven tightly

Around my sacchrine heart

Oh! but time, its telling ways

Tells tales of yesterday

Truth renders ugly etchings of time gone astray

The deaf, dumb and blind kind

and wandering waters wind

light the (hehehe)corners of my mind

Misty watercolor memorrrriiiieeeeessssss

of the way we were...

Sure plays a mean pinball

Back to the wandering waters

Impersonate our daughters

Investigate the reasons

That constipate the seasons

Clogging bowels of tender times

Lacking vowels for righteous rhymes

empty space within my head

Makes me wish that you were dead

Won't you lead the sheep astray?

Won't you Yankees go away?

I never mean what I intend to say

And what I plan is seldom what I write

Yet, remains a literary blight,

In the face of fear.

Contributors: Boppo, Roland, Anastasia, Scarface, Anon., Temple, Rayna, Stacy, Tomi, Readysteady, Barbara, Tommy, Pocahantas, Pyrex, Orchid, Nigel E. Fish, Fishy Nigel, Igor, Carborundum, Billy, Stpehen A. Meyer.
Poem finished: 28th November 1996.