Alliteration and sound

Written Feb. 25, 2013

Through consonants and vowels I trowel, looking for sounds that wow or astound. My mind is stuck in a verbal mound of alliteration and sound. I am clogged, doused in myself. It’s a proverbial hell breaking out of this poetic shell. All I think about is clout being in clots; or dialectical bouts without cuts; or just how off-putting a pout is, though it’s just rounded lips lined in ruts. I worry about going nuts with my nouns, or having gout in my gut, or just touting myself as tough without my bud, old King Tut. After all, flouting a flop is awful enough without a gun to cop. I’m trying to be on an even keel without raising doubt, being killed, or even touched. Although my grousing has become engrossing arousal for some, it’s worn out, isn’t sound and resounds in rot. It’s a boring and boundless rant, coming from the loudest lout without a lot. After all, I’m just a grunt, sitting on my duff, gassing about chaffs, chafing over chuffs, and stuffing my rhetorical bag full of ifs, ands, or buts.

Reviews

[barleygirl]

One of the more bountiful bouts of wordplay with sounds that I've read lately! I love to play with word sounds myself, so I can really appreciate some of your more outstanding phrases: "proverbial hell - poetic shell" . . . "nuts with nouns" . . . "gout in my gut" . . . "flouting a flop" . . . "grousing is engrossing" . . . & so much more. Nicely creative & fun (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Maxwell Ryder]

Aww. Thank you very much, Barleygirl ((hat tip))