"Redundancy: A Love Story"
Stepped on the scene
So that I could set the scene
As if we've never seen it before.
Cliche to the core.
We all know what's in store
Yet we come back for more.
More makeshift moisture
under the moonlit sky.
No desire to inquire.
Never thought to ask why.
This salty scribe observes the vibe
And redundancy is still alive
And thriving well, I fear.
Years of tears chasing lobes
As her eyes stare at strobes
After both have disrobed……
Is the message not clear?
She still isn't wet?
Are there no regrets?
Are we there yet?
Same bar top.
New hairstyle.
Traveled more miles this time
And barely even changed rhymes.
So now the fawn resembles yawns,
Her inner thighs are dry,
There's no emotional high
And the spark is barely spry.
Yeah I know better.
Same climate. No change in weather.
Stale sexuality is favored
Like simplistic nomenclature.
The wet dream rhyme scheme,
Routine scratch and scream,
Familiar fair weather fantasy theme
ending with cold sweat and warm cream.
Enough already!
Not trying to dictate or hate;
But much friction is bound to affliction
In the form of pedantic diction.
I pity the pompous pen
That can't reach deep within
And find some originality.
Step up and plot that fallacy:
Identity dismembered
With soft lips and hard members
Talking champagne in the summer
And warm mouth in the winter.
Throw in some more penetration,
unrealistic means of stimulation,
Tales of "endless satiation"
And various skin abrasions.
All night long to your favorite song,
Took her out to dine, bought expensive wine,
back home to unwind before the slow grind,
Same soaked sheets and the piece is complete.
Top it off with a cheesy title
and sit back feeling entitled
To accolades and praise
from the most insipid knaves
Clutching books about sex
That can't wait to read the next
And it will read just like the last
Until we learn to push past.
Break fast and feed the minds
that await the day and time
When the craft that we've refined
Leaves our legacy defined
By facets of authenticity.
I'm not indicting simplicity.
I just hope that what's in store
Is a desire for much more.
Written By: Devin Joseph Metz
