Posted on 01/13/2017 4:58:29 AM PST by Prov1322
Not exactly. The brilliant writing, and it was, was the means of implementing brilliant ideas. Your little tantrums and crying parties you call "poetry slams" are neither.
I’ve always tried to read poetry because its supposed to be the smart thing to do, right? Well, I never could get anything out of it, I pretty much hate poetry, there I said it.
Anyone who can sit down and read a whole book of poems has a screw loose. Seriously, its a mental illness, get help!
Ok, I’m being harsh, there are lots of good poems - but I stand by comment about reading a whole book full of them :)
I aspire; he perspires!
And now some words of life wisdom from our real poet laureate, Bullwinkle J. Moose...
Bullwinkle: I’d like to apply for a job as an usher?
Boris: What experience have you had?
Bullwinkle: I’ve been in the dark for most of my life
There was a Gay Lib from Nantucket...
(Is it plagiarism if you do it poorly??)
FR ROCKS!
Trump to poets, get a real job.
No. They played at the Kenyan’s inauguration
A little Ella Wheeler Wilcox to warm up these fools...
Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone;
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air;
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.
Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go;
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all,
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life’s gall.
Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a large and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.
A haiku:
They smoke pot all day
Then excrete onto paper
Get a job, loser!
Challenge to those who might be poets, depending on their construction of a villanelle.
Republicans are red, democrats blue, Hillary lost and so did you...boohooo.
I got one for ya. My Brother-in-Law is a retired fighter pilot, who likes to write political poems, believe it or not.
My car got sold.
Now Im walking in the cold.
Its so hard to get a ride these days.
Cause I just got Trumped
And now Ive been dumped.
So Im walking around in a haze.
I never thought Id lose.
So Im turning to the booze.
It helps to pass the time away.
I was so arrogant and smug.
Now I wanna crawl under the rug.
I had to eat my words, so they say.
I made dirty deals with Arab sheiks
Till I was hacked by Wikileaks.
I was the queen of pay for play.
A fine business as long as it works
Then it was upset by racist jerks.
Im just one step ahead of the law today.
Dont really know just who was the hack,
But now they all want their money back.
Ill need someone there to post my bail.
Cant make good on the promises I made.
I only hope theyll take it out in trade
And Obama keeps me out of jail.
That’s only the first part. He like to write loooong ones. Anyway - we haven’t lost ALL the poets... :-)
My particular style
of rhyme
Is called
“Free Verse”.
It is called
“Free Verse”
for three reasons
It has:
No meter
No rhyme
and no Sales Value
The only poem I ever read that I really liked was The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere.
A haiku:
Trump takes charge on Friday.
Watch as the Snowflakes cry foul.
Their tears cleanse my heart.
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