Droning words, unfortunately read
This tender, fog-draped morning,
Has done nothing for my appreciation
Of the world of the 'Genie'...

'Genies' live constricted to their world,
Giving three wishes to one fool,
Or many fools, depending on the reach
Of their snare...and dare the reader walk

Blind into their dark world. Don't even rub their home
The wrong way...would you summon the
Not quintessential poet, poetess, who diatribes
On things which could be righted...
But has 'worded' it all the wrong way?

Leave your 'critiques' to judicial committees
Who, just possibly, could leave minutes
Of their meetings to a future of
One less war, one less grist for the
Mill of the poetic quill.

'Genies' give three wishes which are
Nothing more than slimy fishes
Which squirm through the hands of
The witless fool who only wanted
Material things...rings off the fingers of
Kings who are still alive...

And now the kings have grown silent.
Silent as the dark of those 'Genies'.
What obtuse reasons, what possibly
Coherent thoughts could have ranged
Through the home of those poets

To foster plans to escape from the
Bottle and litter the world of beautiful
Poetry with cloudy diatribe. The 'Genies' have
Well forgotten that the poetic pen is by God
Mightier than a BFS poetry critique.

elysabeth faslund

Note: And, now there's five among us.

elysabeth faslund

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/all-about-a-genie-poet-and-poetess-in-poemhunter/