Unintelligible Susurration


The Art of Disappearing


It is not hard to disappear
Just say no words
It is bound to happen
They are all insolent turds

Impossible it is
When you have painted yourself red
It shall not be so
There is nothing to dread

Do it now
Let it be quick
No one will remember
You were just a rueful pick

Prepostorous as it may seem
It is the only way
You will be seen
Only for one day

Submitted: Monday, April 29, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, April 30, 2013

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poet's Notes about The Poem

This poem is direct. No underlying message, no gibberish, no nothing. Just plain old English, haha. Well, I've had a great deal of experience in this field. I am invisible to all. And it will be that way forever.

Don't vanish.
Paint yourself red. :)

Comments about this poem (The Art of Disappearing by Unintelligible Susurration )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Ghost, Jhonas Lumanlan
  2. Eagerly I want to go with you, Gert Strydom
  3. Prayer and Women, Abdullah alHemaidy
  4. Love is far more than just lust or desir.., Gert Strydom
  5. Lie To Me, Rouren Torres
  6. The Fight, Robert Melliard
  7. Paying Taxes, Randy McClave
  8. हांमा गोनां जिव, Bahadur Basumatary
  9. I Knew What You Knew, Vera Sidhwa
  10. Wearing the Flaws, Gerry Legister

Poem of the Day

poet Edmund Spenser

Of this worlds theatre in which we stay,
My love like the spectator ydly sits
Beholding me that all the pageants play,
Disguysing diversly my troubled wits.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]