Submissions by Rew
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
In Rondeau Form
In rondeau form, write's neat they say,
but not as neat as triolets
both quicker writ than villanelles
their nineteen lines drag me to hell
and, whip me each word of the way.
A fine rondeau by John MaCrae
"In Flanders Fields" puts on display
an all-roundness when wrote quite well
In rondeau form.
Its fifteen lines and one refrain
can be used when there's hell to pay
as with Flanders Field's screaming shells
and just at home in leafy dells,
or, like this, when I wish to play
In rondeau...
but not as neat as triolets
both quicker writ than villanelles
their nineteen lines drag me to hell
and, whip me each word of the way.
A fine rondeau by John MaCrae
"In Flanders Fields" puts on display
an all-roundness when wrote quite well
In rondeau form.
Its fifteen lines and one refrain
can be used when there's hell to pay
as with Flanders Field's screaming shells
and just at home in leafy dells,
or, like this, when I wish to play
In rondeau...
#rhyming
21 reads
2 Comments
Easter?
A Holliday when blossoms spring
the light is cool and birds begin
their natural courting rituals,
of song and dance in hallowed halls
of tree and bush as sap wills to rise
to colour green in all, open eyes
the freshness of, another, awesome spring...
Tell your kin, it's not to late to be posting,
' Happy Holliday ' this reborning earth
and for some, a king's rebirth....
the light is cool and birds begin
their natural courting rituals,
of song and dance in hallowed halls
of tree and bush as sap wills to rise
to colour green in all, open eyes
the freshness of, another, awesome spring...
Tell your kin, it's not to late to be posting,
' Happy Holliday ' this reborning earth
and for some, a king's rebirth....
#rhyming
31 reads
2 Comments
The Ballade (of my ) Weekly Clean
Some rely on cleaning machines
the vacuum to suck up the dust,
and one to scrub floors gleaming clean
replacing same when those get bust.
A hammer, these, to crack that nut
as I think of the leccy price
you can hear me go tut tut tut
cloth, mop and pail for me, suffice.
No smart sweat-top, nor cut off jeans
but butt nekked I swing my butt,
to make dust motes fly in sun beams
my mind flies with these, as it must...
momentarily, till I'm pushed
by brush in hand and in a trice ...
the vacuum to suck up the dust,
and one to scrub floors gleaming clean
replacing same when those get bust.
A hammer, these, to crack that nut
as I think of the leccy price
you can hear me go tut tut tut
cloth, mop and pail for me, suffice.
No smart sweat-top, nor cut off jeans
but butt nekked I swing my butt,
to make dust motes fly in sun beams
my mind flies with these, as it must...
momentarily, till I'm pushed
by brush in hand and in a trice ...
#rhyming
21 reads
0 Comments
The Fear Stings
I passed away long years ago
and death gave me all that I posses,
a comfy berth free of rent and tax, though,
being incomeless that could induce some stress.
I have a box to keep my bones within
a roof composed of good old English turf,
and here I lie and the dead long day sing
of the second coming and my rebirth.
I have sang all the old songs, composed anew,
and still I lie and still I sing,
although the notes are now lower and few,
as my bones return to dust, the fear stings.
and death gave me all that I posses,
a comfy berth free of rent and tax, though,
being incomeless that could induce some stress.
I have a box to keep my bones within
a roof composed of good old English turf,
and here I lie and the dead long day sing
of the second coming and my rebirth.
I have sang all the old songs, composed anew,
and still I lie and still I sing,
although the notes are now lower and few,
as my bones return to dust, the fear stings.
#death
#religion
#Christian
#rebirth
#rhyming
36 reads
0 Comments
Song of Spring
There's a soft subtle change to sunlight now
perhaps bringing an echo of some spring,
and a great bustling sound now all around
the various garden birds twittering
within the still cold barrenness of trees
but, there's a kinda lightness to the rain
falling on the snowdrops on the browned green
of last year's grass, as the crocuses strain
to bring their colour into this new light,
and crisper brisk beats to people's swift feet
mimicking scudding clouds in their bright heights
in...
perhaps bringing an echo of some spring,
and a great bustling sound now all around
the various garden birds twittering
within the still cold barrenness of trees
but, there's a kinda lightness to the rain
falling on the snowdrops on the browned green
of last year's grass, as the crocuses strain
to bring their colour into this new light,
and crisper brisk beats to people's swift feet
mimicking scudding clouds in their bright heights
in...
#sonnet
41 reads
2 Comments
Sentences from a Prison
They fuck you up your Ma and Pa
and mine did a killer job on me,
with their frantic need to seem bourgeois
stuffed me full of inhibitions, see?
They imprisoned me inside my head
with their injunctions on public act
with nervous Ma " Oh, they'll cut me dead! "
" If you " to me " don't behave, with tact..."
My mother " Come away don't speak with him
or them or those or her don't skip be still
be quiet, I'll smack, (she never did) but looks can kill...
...
and mine did a killer job on me,
with their frantic need to seem bourgeois
stuffed me full of inhibitions, see?
They imprisoned me inside my head
with their injunctions on public act
with nervous Ma " Oh, they'll cut me dead! "
" If you " to me " don't behave, with tact..."
My mother " Come away don't speak with him
or them or those or her don't skip be still
be quiet, I'll smack, (she never did) but looks can kill...
...
#rhyming
50 reads
2 Comments
Yard sale
For sale ex prez
dirt cheap.
Yuan, Roubles,
Saudi Riyal w.h.y
dirt cheap.
Yuan, Roubles,
Saudi Riyal w.h.y
#monsters
30 reads
0 Comments
A Pretty Box
I made a little pretty box
to keep precious things within.
I've named it, of course, Fort Knox
It's hid among my pants and socks
until I bring it out again...
A hand-made box for precious things
I put my whole heart into it
and when I'm out to dance and sing
wine and dine and have fling
my heart is safe, within it.
to keep precious things within.
I've named it, of course, Fort Knox
It's hid among my pants and socks
until I bring it out again...
A hand-made box for precious things
I put my whole heart into it
and when I'm out to dance and sing
wine and dine and have fling
my heart is safe, within it.
#rhyming
52 reads
4 Comments
Of Cabbages and Things
Cabbages: A cruciform vegetable
cultivated from the wild mustard plant,
which breeds more greens for the dinning table
cooked world-wide, Occident to the Levant.
Found in literature, valued as a write,
Pliny, George Orwell and Charlie Bucket's
cabbagy meals, supped by poverties light,
dreaming the while of a Golden Ticket...
To lift his family from poverty
just like socialists of this real world would
but ragged-trousered-philanthropists see
to it that gangsters rule, the neighborhoods.
Other...
cultivated from the wild mustard plant,
which breeds more greens for the dinning table
cooked world-wide, Occident to the Levant.
Found in literature, valued as a write,
Pliny, George Orwell and Charlie Bucket's
cabbagy meals, supped by poverties light,
dreaming the while of a Golden Ticket...
To lift his family from poverty
just like socialists of this real world would
but ragged-trousered-philanthropists see
to it that gangsters rule, the neighborhoods.
Other...
#rhyming
38 reads
2 Comments
A Little Schooling...
It was the center of my childish days
replete with gas-lit streets and killer smog,
the walls, black-soot-pitted from acid rain,
and outside toilets where, sometimes, we'd snog...
But the hand-basins now just reach my thigh
and the rough Izal toilet paper, gone,
along with coal-tar soap this stung my eyes
but I recall we chorused great school songs,
and weaved gay candy-striped maypole ribbons
as to the ' keel row ' we high-stepped a reel,
or...
replete with gas-lit streets and killer smog,
the walls, black-soot-pitted from acid rain,
and outside toilets where, sometimes, we'd snog...
But the hand-basins now just reach my thigh
and the rough Izal toilet paper, gone,
along with coal-tar soap this stung my eyes
but I recall we chorused great school songs,
and weaved gay candy-striped maypole ribbons
as to the ' keel row ' we high-stepped a reel,
or...
#sonnet
36 reads
5 Comments
My Sister Kate
My sister's Kate and me are close
in age and looks we're almost twins,
but we fight, sometimes I might win
but sister Kate she wins the most.
Her things are hers but this is gross,
coz she thinks mine hers too, for dates
she steals my clothes and this I hate
to search for stuff as I go out
I'm cursing her, the lazy lout,
but, this is yours dear sister Kate…
in age and looks we're almost twins,
but we fight, sometimes I might win
but sister Kate she wins the most.
Her things are hers but this is gross,
coz she thinks mine hers too, for dates
she steals my clothes and this I hate
to search for stuff as I go out
I'm cursing her, the lazy lout,
but, this is yours dear sister Kate…
#rhyming
50 reads
2 Comments
Thoughts from Abroad.
It's kinda placid down on land
just this sussering bee-like breeze
a peace rarely felt by humans
except in silent deep-sleep dreams.
The dust dims the glare of sun-beams
but the twinkle of ancient stars
at night, here, bright as silvered steel
we are privileged to be here, on Mars...
But in our Habs, our own tin cans,
the noise of bedlam reigns supreme
squawking DSN's from Maven
and various rovers compete
with the LSS, and my team,
and gurgles from the hydroponic farms
creating soya meat'n greens,
we are...
just this sussering bee-like breeze
a peace rarely felt by humans
except in silent deep-sleep dreams.
The dust dims the glare of sun-beams
but the twinkle of ancient stars
at night, here, bright as silvered steel
we are privileged to be here, on Mars...
But in our Habs, our own tin cans,
the noise of bedlam reigns supreme
squawking DSN's from Maven
and various rovers compete
with the LSS, and my team,
and gurgles from the hydroponic farms
creating soya meat'n greens,
we are...
#women
#rhyming
64 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Rew