One hundred and eighty pointless distractions
Leading to inaction
Twelves times less their passion
Is Kenn home? Who’s asking?
One hundred and eighty reprimands
And a serious tongue lashing
Return to your first love, return to your passion
Those other misleads and concubines
Will exhaust your stored up rations
Hurry now, scurry now, better get to dashing
Though your Dad will never leave you
Even when leaving is all the fashion
Quiet on the set. Alright. ACTION!
Dad designed you like a ball at the top of a hill
More complex than fourth-grade fraction
No Polaroids or still-life’s taxing
24 frames per second
The ice is cracking, latency retracting
One hundred and eighty necessary abstractions
Laid down as random brush strokes
The ball is now in action… forward passion >
meek says:
This is one of those poems that can go on and on. Love the rhyming pattern.
Again, nice write from a very creative mind.
Nancia says:
Bike riding is great! I have two and do a lot it, it’s fun!! I wish I could ride mine to my clients’ house, but they live all over the place!! I will check in:) Happy Father’s Day!!!