@
oXus
Sorry for the delay.
This was a fairly rotund and spirited verse from you, lad. The airless region skimmers and the Cambridge nose doctors beam their expressions in your direction. Abacus. Aberrant. Abel's Sunday Fablemaker. Cankersores?
NO.
Some of the lines / concepts you flip on an intelligently Coptic tip sometimes border on corny, but over time I've grown to enjoy your quips, exchanges and formations of the layered kind. You've called me verbose over the years; rightfully so in most cases, though I think you take the lead in that regard for your carefully pressed pasta. Leningrad, Pen-in-graduate's hand as he goes to university in India. Or Morocco. Or Pakistan where the sun always shines. Or Badr Hari's dad's house. Take your pick.
I'll quote what I thought stood out as the might of Maccabee flows through these pseudo-Jewish veins.
Given the honest praenomen of English, a linguist,
That’s promise my pen’ll be distinguished.
First time reading the word praenomen, ever.
Don’t relinquish, self-doubt’s a hindrance
…you cannot extinguish Firefrost,
the cold-flamed no-name grows brave in a trying spot,
Nicely done.
Lying locked… in the lion’s jaw,
& all I did was try and roar.
lol a bit corny
Only sometimes scrawl a line & find it raw,
Though I’m sure there’s a time when all
I’m fighting for… is to write some more,
without reason or rhyme nor thought.
An inkwell, inked well, is mightier than the finest sword.
Very good.
The rest of the verse followed this same pattern, I think. Keep the molten ink flowing onto the page, bruv.
Keep doing Hume