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A Moo Point

Multiple hours have been consumed of late poring over past works, correcting glaring mistakes and massaging the unnecessarily tense portions. What I thought was fit for true publication is possibly just a touch further behind but I’m coming to the end of the list. Pretty amazing to think that, flawed or not, 108 poems/ articles have been published since the March 21 launch. Thousands of visitors have read tens of thousands of posts. I honestly cannot thank you all enough!

I digress… having metamorphosed to revenant some earlier pieces and given my current time shortage/ desire to assuage casual embarrassment, some poetry will be re-released over the coming weeks. Submitting to publishers is, as expected, tedious in the extreme. Still, such is the time-cost of doing business. In order to be capable of embracing a life of not working especially hard, sitting around and writing with the pooch, one must actually perform quite fastidiously in the interim. How redoubtably irksome! 🙂


A Moo Point

The masses ignorant we see

Concerned just by calamity

Though maybe if we’re lucky they

Might realize their use some day

More likely though to still remain

Penned into their abodes same

If all you know be useless mud

You’re far below those chewing cud

While cows may be the fairer beast

They’re what’s served at every feast.


I feel much better with this piece now that the meter is “immaculate” and it’s been given a sufficiently perplexing title.

Well, I’m off to perform further revisions and perhaps a submission or two. Wish me luck and know that the feeling is reciprocated. Not that I store any belief in such practices. It’s a nice gesture though.

Be the change. Just not pennies, nickles or dimes… That’s too much change- and a touch over-heavy.

-Alex Blaikie

Categories: poetry writing

Tagged as:

dreadpoetssobriety

A broken mind held together by cellophane and some tack.

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