[paulklenk]

Okay, you might not win a bun -- but you will win the approbation of your fellow Freepers.

Come on, everyone, and be a poet -- if just for today. You never know whose heart you're going to touch with your poetry.

The competition is open.

[lafroste]

Does this count?...

(tune of "Flipper")

Last night I ate Flipper, Flipper
sauteed with mushrooms,
served over rice
I filled my plate twice.

And when I killed Flipper, Flipper
with a whaler's harpoon gun
boy it was sure fun
When he went "eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee" (sung in falsetto)

[piasa]

fyi

[weegee]

I'm hoping this brief rhyme inspires better works,
Share your efforts with FReepers and lurking DU jerks.
Some people say that there is no rhyme for orange...
You'd think people had never heard of a door hinge.

[backhoe]

Let me reach back 30 years... the following was written to my first wife before we married, and is engraved on the ledger stone over her grave in Palmetto Cemetary:

Flowers I give for their beauty
As I give myself for my love
and a sweet whisp'ring song
to go drifting along
with the pale dreaming stars up above

For until your days have been measured
and until there is peace at the end
I'll than the grey Powers
that have given me flowers
and made You
my Love and my Friend

[becounted]

Of God and Honor

It’s not by flags we won our rights;
Nor parties holed away from sight.
Neither song, nor verse in bloody fights;
But men of God and honor.

Their memory should be never still.
Within me rises yet a chill.
Was more then guns at Bunker Hill;
There were men of God and honor.

When time begin to dim these deeds;
And their harvests overcome by weeds;
Find among us more to lead,
Like these men of God and honor.

C. Plante

[T'wit]

I'll go with sillies. Here are some silly verses about saints. You could call this a three-doggerel night.

1.
Of holiness St. Fronto had no lack
Except for his indulgence in tabac.
All said, "toBACco's silly for a FRONTo."
Yet if you needed blessings, he came pronto.

2.
Harvey Sweeney became St. Frumentius
After a career selling dubious debentius
And to this day becomes contentious
When someone mentius his dentius.

3.
St. Fulbert ate so much it was unnerving
To watch him gobble down each extra serving.
They'd ask him, "Aren't you Fulbert?" He'd say, "Nope."
He cost so much they had to make him pope.

[Fawnn]

I wrote this for my paternal grandmother after granddad passed away in 1976:

For Grandma

Life seems without meaning, no tomorrow.
Time just exists but day to day.
She's lost in grief and absorbed in sorrow,
Although he's but a step away.

Slowly she walks toward the grave.
Lonely, lost, she kneels in prayer.
Thankful for all the love he gave.
Sad for memories buried there.

The time has come that she must leave,
But yet she wavers, then pauses at the gate.
A message whispered on the breeze
Tells that further mourning will have to wait.

From behind a cloud, a sunbeam's directing
Lovingly tells her she'll make it somehow
For grandchildren's babies will be expecting
Some candy-filled pockets from grandma now.

Copyright © 1976-2003 Pamela Rice Hahn
All Rights Reserved

[Ches]

Here is a little ditty I wrote in response to a threatof a slander suit because I was extolling the vertues of sobriety while going armed at our local gun club. The suit never happened but they drove us out with dirty tricks instead.

Warning! do not let the Bar Crowd take over your gun club.

BALLAD OF SHERWOOD FOREST

In the days of King Heilmann there was a number of men who occupied Sherwood forest. These men feared the evil king and his henchmen. That is all but a small band of brave man who defied the e-e-evile King. The leader of this band of brave men... Robin Hood. The King was so agitated buy the thought of the men having fun in his forest that he ranted and raved constantly about it. After much bellyaching and many attempts to just make these men go away by drinking himself to death he finally gave up, summoned his favorite dark underbellies and vehemently told them to deliver this statement to Robin Hood and his very brave men.

"If we steady our sway

With a six pack a day

And a twelve pack makes us shoot better

In any old season

Regardless of reason

We see no problem with that

In the utmost of haste

We consume a whole case

We feel so much smarter but stat!

If we should tilter

Shoot way off kilter

We'll purchase padded beanies and mats

We'll cover one eye

Who cares if some die

We'll keep shooting our shotguns" he spat.

"You know this is true

We are bigger than you

If you don't like it we'll just give you a bat

If you should reason

Then we'll call it treason

And treat you like some alley cat

And if we should spew

Its no reason to stew

We'll put lumps upside of your hat

We'll then crawl to the bar

And put brew in our jar

Cus' we know just where it's at

If you must disagree

I call that blasphemy

I commence the inquisition you rat

It is my decree

I am BETTER than thee

I hold this position, NOW SCAT!"

Need I tell anyone how terror stricken poor Robin was? My gosh, he trembled and he quaked he could hardly spit out his own proclamation!

"OH, yessirree

It's easy to see

How many brain cells are dead

And if you should lose

Your precious booze

You"ll be singing the BLUES instead

Your vision is hazy

Your method half crazy

Not like someone well read

I'm sure most agree

By how often you pee

There's no wisdom in what you have said

Hither and dither

In alcohol tither

Your henchmen around you will spread

Accuse us of treason

For alcohol reasons

May lead to lopping our heads

You like to threaten

Well, I'm not forgettin'

Your role in making this bed!

Strap yourself in

Cover your chin

This ride will end with you shred!

In writing I'll slice you

I promise I'll dice you

Evil lawyer aside you'll know dread

He cannot save you

Or comfort or aid you

He'll be counting his rubles instead!

I often will daze you

Simply amaze you

You have squandered your life so it's said

And if you should hurt me

Try to chase me or waste me

Remember there's always the lead."

Robin

[ctlpdad]

If you sprinkle when you tinkle,
Please be neat & wipe the seat.

[Agnes Heep]

A short piece of a longer one I wrote about the folly of seeking the unattainable:

Hither! Hither! Shall I call the Moon?
Whose pallid face approves no human eye?
Who innocent bemusement greets with Death;
And changing, alters not in chastity?
Broad Ocean's tide shall wane upon the shore,
No more to wax; obeisant to this hand,
And Phoebus gilded carriage rest complaisant,
Yet undeflowered will the Moon remain.

* * *

Who is that fool which breathes his restless sighs,
Upon the frosty air and sees them smoke?
Or dreams those dreams Reality belies,
And waking would his Genius invoke?
Like Tantalus his hand must ever reach,
Above, to pluck the fruit from hanging tree,
The angry gods his folly will impeach,
Forever more to feed his agony.
And still the Moon sits lofty in the sky,
To tantalize, and ne'er to be possessed,
She rapes the souls of men, and still they cry,
In futile rage; with vanity obsessed.
Return, thou dog! Her ravishment is sweet,
And though she kill me, yet will I entreat.

[Bloody Sam Roberts]

Are limericks acceptable?

.

The impeccably natty Dan Rather
Shaves close ‘fore the camera-folks gather
But when his image came back
From his chat in Iraq
The stuff ‘round his mouth wasn’t lather.

[sergeantdave]

An ode to "Smart Growth."

Hey you living that American dream
Well that just makes us socialists steam
Too many homes with a white picket fence
We want you packed in boxes more dense
Give us your land and houses too
We want a state controlled by the few
Hey! Hey! Ho! Ho! That’s the collectivist way
A soviet paradise where you have no say

[gcruse]

Intellectual Poverty

Raised income levels qualify
More and more as povertized--
We drop the expectations
Of their public education
So they become less able
To keep food on the table--
Thereby their income stays, you see,
Down in the pool of poverty.
A few of those climb out, so then
The limits must be raised again
And schools asked to do less for them
Who can't eat self-esteem.

[Anitius Severinus Boethius]

Ok, I'll give it a whirl. Here are a couple of original verses I jotted off sometime in the last couple of years.

Sorrow

Softly they came at first
The gentle rains of March
Sorrow laden clouds gently wept
And the ground took their tears
What the sky could not know
And what the Winter could not restrain
Was that Spring was born of the rain
And the ground listened to the sadness
And verdant fields was it’s response
Winters tyranny ended at last
And the flowers of May was the view
Given to the sky to look upon
For through the sadness of the sky
Winter was conquered and the land refreshed
So it is that sorrow leads to a life well-blessed

Journey Through a Garden

From lilac to daisy to lily
Softly flitting along the path
Pausing as in surprise as I watch
Then carefree continuing on

My garden is my refuge and reprieve
But to the small butterfly it is the world
Life is short but hers shorter still
Yet resplendent it is for her

To each a different path is walked
And to smell the roses is a chore for some
Others find that everyday is a journey through a garden
And their lives are blessed whether short or long

The Smell of Jasmine

The smell of jasmine still lingers
When the mists have risen from the valley
The night has fled behind the mount
And bright blue day greets him now

Sweet water from the stream
Refreshes his thirsty body
Fertile fields with ample game
Gives fun chase and tasty morsels

He has no fear, he has no stress
For he truly knows of nothing
Except that which he aught to know
That he is lord of all he watches

And so as night creeps back in place
And the mists return again
Another day completely lived
The tiger purrs contented
He has lived his life as was foreseen
And worries not who he offended

These are part of what I categorize as part of my Meditations on Contentment.

[yarddog]

Bump for later.

[Tamzee]

While I thank you for getting this started and will enjoy reading your wonderful thread, I wouldn't dare post any woefully untalented poetry attempts ;-)

[Dog Gone]

I wrote this poem in 9th grade and I'm quite proud of it. It may also be sung to the tune of I'm an Old Cowhand

I'm an old cowpie

Don't step on me, guy

And here I lie

Under the summer sky

Getting dry

[EternalVigilance]

Someday We'll Fly

My heart, it's a funny old thing
Sometimes it sings
Sometimes it cries
But it'll be all yours, by and by
And then we'll fly...

No matter what this world may bring
No matter what trials
I still find the strength to try
Even alone, I find a way to get by

Sometimes my heart sings
Sometimes it sighs
But until the day I die
You'll always be the apple of my eye

You make me feel like a king
Without you I feel so dry
That's why I can't deny
The place you hold in this heart of mine

I want to be with you
But my heart needs purified
So I can take wing and fly
On the day the truth overcomes the lie

My heart, it's a funny old thing
Sometimes it sings
Sometimes it cries
But it'll be all yours, by and by
And then we'll fly...

EV

[NeoCaveman]

There once was a man named Bill
Of women, he could get no fill
Monica gave him thrills
Till on the blue dress he did spill
Pretending to act shocked was Hill.