Il Dante
04-09-2010, 12:49 PM
Parturiunt montes, nascetur ridiculus mus
I'm overflowing with frustration
Because I cannot find a theme
On which to base some new creation
Of poetry; my muse could scream.
I'm having so much trouble rhyming,
And massive are my metric woes;
I can't get right the blasted timing,
And on and on and on it goes.
I put my poem through contortion
To try and make it all align;
My meaning suffers gross distortion,
Disorder has displaced design.
I just can't seem to write a poem,
It's far too difficult for me;
But maybe someday I will show 'em
My lyric mediocrity.
My poetry the tongue abuses:
You'd scare a child with lines like these!
For heavens' sakes! Where are the muses
Who've vacated the premises?
So now, my friends, you all can savor
The work of this poetic louse,
For out of mountains' worth of labor:
The birth of a ridic'lous mouse!
I'm overflowing with frustration
Because I cannot find a theme
On which to base some new creation
Of poetry; my muse could scream.
I'm having so much trouble rhyming,
And massive are my metric woes;
I can't get right the blasted timing,
And on and on and on it goes.
I put my poem through contortion
To try and make it all align;
My meaning suffers gross distortion,
Disorder has displaced design.
I just can't seem to write a poem,
It's far too difficult for me;
But maybe someday I will show 'em
My lyric mediocrity.
My poetry the tongue abuses:
You'd scare a child with lines like these!
For heavens' sakes! Where are the muses
Who've vacated the premises?
So now, my friends, you all can savor
The work of this poetic louse,
For out of mountains' worth of labor:
The birth of a ridic'lous mouse!