The Last Waltz (till the 12th of Never)
French Repeating Forms are ‘Orrible 🐸
French Repeating Forms are ‘Orrible 🐸
I thought I'd write a villanelle;
I've never written one before.
It didn't turn out very well
as anyone can plainly tell;
I won't be writing any more!
I thought I'd write a Villanelle,
a big mistake, that form was hell.
I cursed and ranted, cried and swore.
It didn't turn out very well
and left me just a hollow shell,
that poem type I quite abhor.
I thought I'd write a villanelle,
and now I need a padded cell,
I'm curled up weeping on the floor.
It didn't turn out very well,
to sanity, I've said farewell,
it ran out, screaming, through the door!
I thought I'd write a villanelle;
It didn't turn out very well.
🐸
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JggP1uR4vEk&pp=ygUSaSBoYXRlIGZyYW5jZSBzb25n
🏝️🙃☕
The Hooded Man
He's closer now than this time yesterday,
his gimlet eyes so firmly fixed on me,
and nothing can impede him on his way
as, grinning, he comes hunting, stealthily.
The fatal date's already ringed in red
upon his chart, but he's not telling when
that day, on which I'll be alive and dead,
will come, when he will kill his prey again,
just as he always does. And so I wait
and wonder whether this persistent cough
perhaps could be the way he'll bring my fate,
or if he's only playing teasing games,
remaining at a distance, still far off,
still crossing others from his list of names.
⚰️
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o0N9cVM0qWY&pp=ygUVY2xvc2VyIGV2ZXJ5IGRheSBzb25n
📝
ajay said:
French Repeating Forms are ‘Orrible 🐸
French Repeating Forms are ‘Orrible 🐸
I thought I'd write a villanelle;
I've never written one before.
It didn't turn out very well
as anyone can plainly tell;
I won't be writing any more!
I thought I'd write a Villanelle,
a big mistake, that form was hell.
I cursed and ranted, cried and swore.
It didn't turn out very well
and left me just a hollow shell,
that poem type I quite abhor.
I thought I'd write a villanelle,
and now I need a padded cell,
I'm curled up weeping on the floor.
It didn't turn out very well,
to sanity, I've said farewell,
it ran out, screaming, through the door!
I thought I'd write a villanelle;
It didn't turn out very well.
🐸
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JggP1uR4vEk&pp=ygUSaSBoYXRlIGZyYW5jZSBzb25n
🏝️🙃☕
French Repeating Forms are ‘Orrible 🐸
French Repeating Forms are ‘Orrible 🐸
I thought I'd write a villanelle;
I've never written one before.
It didn't turn out very well
as anyone can plainly tell;
I won't be writing any more!
I thought I'd write a Villanelle,
a big mistake, that form was hell.
I cursed and ranted, cried and swore.
It didn't turn out very well
and left me just a hollow shell,
that poem type I quite abhor.
I thought I'd write a villanelle,
and now I need a padded cell,
I'm curled up weeping on the floor.
It didn't turn out very well,
to sanity, I've said farewell,
it ran out, screaming, through the door!
I thought I'd write a villanelle;
It didn't turn out very well.
🐸
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JggP1uR4vEk&pp=ygUSaSBoYXRlIGZyYW5jZSBzb25n
🏝️🙃☕
🤣 
Sorry, saw this thread and i just couldn't resist. Engelbert and his Humperdinck. In those rare social parties I am invited to, etiquette is never my forte, I simply answer, if asked, my musical tastes are eclectic. Whilst Easterhouse & The Redskins are burning my soul. Music has never been provoked such ignorance as on a poetry site (not you Ajay). Oh this thread is about poetry, blah blah blah some metaphor.
https://youtu.be/Wll-a6MOLtY?si=piH3TY6VBA3WJGUh
https://youtu.be/Wll-a6MOLtY?si=piH3TY6VBA3WJGUh
Reasons
find the reasons behind the angst
find the solution to apply
try not to scream out your lungs
you'll suffer short air supply
find the reason behind the tears
was it sadness or cutting onions
one is none without the fears
the other maybe painful bunions
https://youtu.be/EgQ84na5_0E?si=39D2hAxIZbcKv4mh
The Poem Wants to Impress the Girls
The Poem scuttles sideways like a crab
between the margins of the page and tries
with hot and sweaty run-on exercise
to shed its wibbling-wobblng surplus flab
and build a form that's like a concrete slab
attracting all the Poem girls, whose eyes
will open wide and lust without disguise
and crave its lines – hot, looking really fab!
But as it runs from left to right a thought
begins to grow inside its puffing head
and causes it to fret: 'Enjambment's fraught
with danger! I could have a heart attack!
I really wouldn't want to end up dead!'
So it stops, and tries to get its breath back.
🍰
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GYREvn8PVh0
🏝️☕🙃
Sex machine eh
Heart is a Time Bomb
hey did you know
my heart is a Time bomb
an internally tied love bow
flower tied red plum
it ticks on tirelessly
the ticking time bomb within me
going on relentlessly
ever easy ever steady
💣
https://youtu.be/8ZkGyVqPUW0?si=vhQoM9Kj3fPkFYmY
Heart is a Time Bomb
hey did you know
my heart is a Time bomb
an internally tied love bow
flower tied red plum
it ticks on tirelessly
the ticking time bomb within me
going on relentlessly
ever easy ever steady
💣
https://youtu.be/8ZkGyVqPUW0?si=vhQoM9Kj3fPkFYmY
The Poem and the Hearts 🙃
The Poem holds her ticking heart and knows
it holds a fragile thing, deserving care,
and so it opens up its chest and there
beside its own it places hers and shows
that ticking heart that here's a heart to share
its rhythms as it beats on through its life.
Whatever Fate may bring, their hearts will take
together, never ever to forsake
each other: Fate may gash them with her knife,
but never will their rhythms stop or break.
☕
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AZTo3iJng7U&pp=QAFIAQ%3D%3D
(You better believe it 🙃)
🥁🥁
The Poem Becomes POTUS and Leads the Revolution 🇺🇲🚩🇬🇧
Right! Now that I'm in charge of everything,
we'll certainly abolish all the bombs,
and I shall have no doubts or any qualms,
when they've all been destroyed. They only bring
destruction. Ugly money will be next,
the wickedness at every evil's root.
We'll do away with currency and cheques
and credit cards; we'll give them all the boot!
Instead, we'll start producing goods for need,
not profit. The Fat Cats have had their day!
No more we'll toil until our fingers bleed!
No more we'll work until we're old and thin!
No more for them we'll sweat our lives away!
Comrades, unite! We have a world to win!
🚩
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yEZTZ3_cqHY&pp=ygUVa2ljayBvdmVyIHRoZSBzdGF0dWVz
🚩
The Poem Ponders the Meaning of Life
The Poem wonders what it's all about,
this mystery, this daily thing called Life,
this thing which often's full of struggle, strife.
It wracks its brain, but just can't work it out,
and sits upon the page, still full of doubt;
but then it shakes its mental shackles loose
and cries, 'The answer's simple to deduce!
It's not at all a complicated thing,
I can't believe that I was struggling,
the meaning's ''to survive and reproduce.''
♂️♀️
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5NiIEJ4UB1A&pp=ygUUd2hlbiBoZWFydHMgYXJlIG9wZW4%3D
☕
Observation
and yet he laughs
even as she watches
from the sideline
face lined with scars
yet he smiles
with life's sheer joy
he hasn't gone the mile
where no one dance
here polished beauty
means to stay
https://youtu.be/fGBIAK6lUGE?si=tmAEEeZQC_fixeuu
'I Vant to be Alone': The 23rd NAPOMO Poem Does Its Best Greta Garbo Impression, But Cheers Up Eventually, As Well It Might
The Poem wants to be alone tonight.
It's had enough of company and noise.
It needs to take a break, regain its poise,
put up its feet. Its metre's feeling tight.
Iambic tension's gripped it like a vice.
Its dull pentameter is too precise;
it's heavy, dead, dispirited, not right.
But in the morning of this second verse
its dancing feet are happy once again
and bouncing free, no longer feeling pain,
they’re skipping gaily, the complete reverse
of that first verse, when it was gloomy, sad,
for now the Poem is a merry lad
with poem twenty-three safe in its purse.
2️⃣3️⃣
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EGlo9LzmOME&pp=ygUOZ2V0dGluZyBiZXR0ZXI%3D
☕
Silent tears
we learnt the truth
behind his silent tears
we know to soothe
the ruffled feathers
the need for hugs
a little kiss
the need for warmth
away from little fears
kiss the hurt away
wipe away the tears
love bugs in a tray
biscuits and gummy bears
I ♥️ Penny Syllin
The man with the hammer's moved into me gob,
he's causing me molar to pulsate and throb,
he's biffing and bashing, he gives me no rest,
it's hardly surprising that I'm feeling stressed.
The pain is tremendous and won't let me sleep,
it's four in the morning, I just want to weep,
I've tossed and I've turned since I first went to bed,
the aches of his hammering filling me head;
but now it's tomorrow, I'm out on the street,
to go to the chemist – I'll not face defeat! –
and soon he'll stop banging, that hammering villain –
I'll clobber the twat with some fine penicillin!
Hooray! He's gone quiet! I'm back to normality!
Going to sleep now should be a formality –
and though that I know that I wish it in vain
I hope that I never get toothache again!
🦷
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lXbQwJjC688&pp=ygUNZGVudGlzdCBzb25nc9IHCQl_CQGHKiGM7w%3D%3D
☕
