Tag Archives: Poetry

Stand Up Poetry

Stand Up Poetry

I have to stand up…

“recite” poetry…

and try and make that poetry…

‘funny!’

Well, that’s my task…

and all I can ask

is: that ‘you – the audience –

try to do your best

and invest

applause and laughter

soon after my words

(even if they don’t make much sense).

It’s all reciprocal.

You scratch my scratch-card;

and I’ll scratch your scratch-card –

how hard can it be?

You see,

it’s not rocket science –

but, poetry, is not a white-goods appliance.

And… furthermore…

what on Earth is a BYOB?

It’s an acronym

of that I’m sure;

but, my interpretation,

is possibly not the same as yours…

Big Yellow Oranges – Beware!!

Begin Yawning? – Out! Begone!

Bring Yachts – Overboard Banter!

Beware Yetis – Ours Barks!

Or even Bring Your Own…

Boudoir…?

Baguette…?

Balalaika…?

Bikini…?

And, perhaps, there

is as good a point as any, to

B.M.O.P.

(Bring My Own Poem)

to an end.

The Rain Fell

The Rain Fell

The rain fell

from sky

to leaf

to me,

as I walked

through

the woods.

Throwaway Haikus

Throwaway Haikus

“Throwaway Haikus

are hardly worth the paper

they are written on!”

“It’s Lemon Thyme!”

“It’s ‘Lemon Thyme!”

Citrus burst fits the rhyme,

as we all shout: “It’s ‘Lemon Thyme!”

Apeel and chime, do the crime;

as we are shouting, “Lemon Thyme!”

Sail upon the vitamin C,

Herbidacious, obviously,

“Free the Lemons, if they’ve done their time,

and we are shouting, “Lemon Thyme!”

Limoncello plays the tune,

werewolf howls at light of Moon,

flibberty-gibbet all too soon;

are deciphering an ancient tune,

to be played upon a big bassoon.

“It’s Lemon Thyme!”

All out of sync

All out of sync

I’m all out of sync,

my brain’s on the blink,

and I cannot think

of another rhyme.

I’m dumb and confused,

numb and quite weary,

clumsy and clearly

shot away;

but, that’s not to say…

over and out,

whisper and shout,

and here is the twist,

I’m the top of my list.

A Silly Surreal Poem

A Silly Surreal Poem

Flattery got me everywhere;

but, I ended up in a cattery;

stopping, on the way, at a nunnery,

where I met, and spoke to, Simon Munnery;

who I barely knew, but he knew me

far less than I knew him and so it was that we,

found little to talk about,

took the opportunity to chalk about

a dead body of work

that someone had, unfinished, discarded;

so, here I stand

with head in hand

all due to an unforeseen incident

dans la rue de Paris

between a guillotine and me.

A Monosyllabic Haiku

A Monosyllabic Haiku

Monosyllabic;

Why so many syllables?

Anybody know?

April The Seventeenth

April The Seventeenth

‘Twas the seventeenth day

of the month before May;

some say that it is called ‘April’.

The Sun was out

shining all about

as it does on a sunny day.

Where be the rain?

Where be the wind?

Where be the third thing in this list?

Anyway, it is much too nice a day

to be sat writing poems –

unless the twinkling of an idea beckons.

Ogden Nash’s ‘The Termite’

Ogden Nash’s ‘The Termite’

Ogden Nash’s ‘The Termite’ with audio

Some primal termite knocked on wood 
And tasted it, and found it good! 
And that is why your Cousin May 
Fell through the parlor floor today.

by Ogden Nash

Taken from PoemHunter.com

A Jackdaw With A Twig

A Jackdaw With A Twig.

Flying high

in the sky

the jackdaw looked very small

the twig smaller still.

When they flew close

I could see

that they were of a normal size

and the twig was only one of the many

that the jackdaw had brought

to try and make a nest;

as had the rest of the jackdaws.

They were queued up

waiting to take their long, thin twigs

within the eaves of the old mansion.

Some of the birds

and some of the twigs

did fit in –

though there were many discarded twigs scattered upon the floor,

after the jackdaws did decide

that the twigs were too wide.