Best Collaborations Poems
No matter how some complain and bellow
they are exposed, each a trolling fellow
I'd look them in the eye
for telling one more lie
but I heard they're too busy eating crow
by Jenna Logan
Their "platforms" anchored, tightly tethered
Their statements all "if, ands, and whethers"
While blowing their horns
And spitting out thorns
From mouths full of fluffy crow feathers
by John Lawless
Cruel comments, sure catch one's eye
Demeaning, vindictive, but sly
Trolls aim to debase
And leave a bad taste
Perhaps they should eat humble pie
by Jan Allison
Some people just won't admit when they're wrong
Like to spin yarns and then string you along
But without any doubt
They are always caught out
Then feast on the first crow that comes along
by Tom Cunningham
Will he choke while eating crow
A feeble mind he does show
He messed in the blog
When he slopped his hog
His words are wind and they blow
by Mark Koplin
Your posts pretend to blow off steam
but your words are so very mean
time to eat some crow
maybe time to go
Your vile blogs make me want to scream
by Tania Kitchin
So many people are really just a fake
It's just who they are, dear lord, for heaven's sake
I just want them all to know
I'd fill their mouths with crow
And feed them as much as their fat cheeks can take
by Charlie Messina
A taste of revenge for the blogger
Whose intention is to cause bother
It's made perfectly clear
Folly falls on deaf ears
So fool, go eat crow for some fodder
by Belle Bellevue
(Line for line… tit for tat.)
1.
My house is kind of small
but bigger than my kitchen
And in my kitchen there’s a lamp
that’s bigger than my fist
Please don’t touch the dog’s food bowl
only I touch the food bowl
But really I know I shouldn’t
only my dog touches the food bowl
What an *******. We should have never bought that dog
and we never should have mentioned that lamp, or that fist.
They were completely irrelevant to everything else.
I’m going to have to scrap this one.
2.
I started to write the poem
then this happened.
And now this is happening
to that happening.
I happen to be happening upon a
happening.
just like every other happening.
Sometimes poems happen, often after
something else happens
I just happened to happen upon a
happenstance happening
then I started to write the poem.
3.
It’s either spaghetti or meatballs
that go with warm vodka
Either would probably fit
in the freezer at the store.
Maybe they’d even fit
in a cold and dim motel in Ohio.
But where would I find
A fork?
Maybe I could find one
In that motel.
Goodbye
my
dearest
washcloth.
You
were
good
at
scrubbing.
We've been having a "Bash Santa" week, but I wrote limericks this morning about Putin breaking his tailbone. So, Tom suggested we have a "Bash Putin" week. Here are three more from me. Please join in bashing that dastardly demon if you wish.
That Evil Putin fell down and hurt his tushy
He swore, "It was one of my bodyguards pushed me!"
Not wanting to be blamed
For he was so ashamed
That he had to change his pants cuz they were gooshy
It was on his darn keister that Putin landed
I'm going to be honest and very candid
He was chasing a skirt
When the scumbag got hurt
While being frisky with her, he was caught red-handed
Now he can't sit in a chair on his derriere
Cuz that lowlife tried to ruin the innocent, Claire
It's his tailbone he broke
His neck I'd like to choke
He's worse than Hitler, the annihilator Herr
Written by Jenna Logan
V. Putin has fallen on his tush
Pity was not in a thorny bush
Put him on a chain gang
Better yet, let him hang
Then let us have in Russia a putsch!
Arrogant Putin's butt is sore
Love this special news, tell us more
The ass is hurtin'
The world is certain
Putin needs to be shown the door.
Written by L. Milton Hankins
Putin is a fascist like Hitler, no doubt
That's what he really is all about
He fell on his a.r.s.e
Emitting methane garse
And learned it's three Reichs you're out!
Putin to his guards was accusatory
So let us embellish on that story
Shoved down from his thrown
Cracked his smug coccyx bone
This tail-ends his self-proclaimed glory
Written by Robert Gorelick
Vlad Putin was dealing with state affairs
On his way back he skidded down the stairs
You could smell the foul gas
Cos' he ruptured his a.s.s
No get well wishes because nobody cares.
He'd fallen over and broke his a.s.s. bone
A guard rushed over when he heard a moan
Hard luck you commie jerk
Cos' it's karma at work
Start praying now for your sins and atone
Written by Tom Cunningham
COLLABORTIONS
visual
indications
entirely sensual
in
a
prolonged
lament
a
nuanced
concept
ostensibly
incompatible
ambiguity
jnterpreted
instilled
in
shadow
a
transitory
dream
of
ultimate realty
generosity
a
distinctive
summation
of
a
complex
posture
dense&empty
When it came to love
I had no real plan
I know I wanted to connect in an intimate way
with experimentation and playfulness
I was short on experience
there was a pandemic
I’d had few ‘at-bats’
that’s a sports metaphor
Much of it seemed surreal and abstract
like we’d entered another realm of everyday places
there was a subtle unpredictability
that was unfiltered, instinctive and unapologetically unhinged
freedom permeated every element
still, our collaboration allowed for honest conversation
I remember asking, “What are we doing?”
Thinking back, It underlined how vastly different our two experiences were
.
.
Songs for this:
Overtime (pt 1) by Mk.gee [E]
Blur by embrs & astralcurrent
Most often she was sisu, and otimistic.
He didn't want to understand her confusion
it caused him to lack confidence
Fickle minded and full of
optimism he wanted her to get to the part
of her decision making process where
she would be full of regret and sorry for
not making the deal. Being fair he saw her frustration
and knew what she meant by not believing
something would coor could come along
and unravel the affordability of the
Magincent object.
Then elucidation made clear what was to be done
clear minded and full of confidence she made
the decision to acquire.
Cacophonous sounds are often the fusses
of complication:where all functioning factors
aren't assigned their roles.
She was amazingly impressed. They sought equipment
to go into full production.
Knowing no demographic could measure their
doings , and only the first sales to the time of measurement
could predict the pace and scope that details
their companies exsistance.