Pirate Misery
Bin' snifflin' 'nent th' hour o' 12
'pon high deck by me scurvy self
me soulless hearties, dogs o' scum
on lower decks a-flappin' gums
Me keg be dry; I've downed me grog
me head's a-swirl wit' nowt but fog
me ticker's tight; I'm sans me glow
tho' stoked up fer me tit-eyed beau
Th' horizon's bleak; me warty toad
whose slimy self on me has growed
wit' bladed quill scribed clerihew
'n gabbered' wit' a tongue askew
Be cursed, yer nit off bearded buns
o' rottin' dead whale steeped in sun
this 'ere pirate yer beseech
creep whence yer hail, yer vermin leech
NOTE: ALL 'MISTAKES' ARE DELIBERATELY PLACED TO ACCOMMODATE PIRATE SPEAK.
For Nathan's contest. I found myself "at sea" when jilted, hence I opted for pirate lingo.
Copyright © Delysia Hendricks | Year Posted 2011
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment