Best Comma Poems
A sweet blackbird sings in the evening night
they tell her blackbird don't sing so high
A sweet blackbird flies in the evening night
they tell her blackbird don't fly so high
A sweet blackbird chirps, enjoying the morning light
they tell her blackbird to turn out your light
A sweet blackbird flies alone at night
she says to them "I am alright"
Peaceful and relax
At rest but traverse freely
Altered consciousness
Will to access all
Suddenly achieve by thoughts
Radiating oneness
Empathy ignites
As parameters extend
Embrace love without.
comma
gives you a pause.
lets you add onto a
sentence with a conjunction and
a clause.
this is a comma ,
this is an apostrophe '
this is an ampersand &
and this is an asterisk *
COMMA COMA
The difference between a cat and a comma, as you know,
Is that one has claws at the end of its paws,
While the other has a pause at the end of a clause,
But let the comma not be confused with a coma,
Sometimes induced in my wife from my socks’ aroma,
And never confuse a comma with an apostrophe,
For in this competition it would be a catastrophe,
And, as we all know, a comma sits on the line,
But an apostrophe floats up in the air just fine.
When you reach twelve commas, it’s time to go.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. .
Written by Sydney Peck
Entered in Russell Sivey’s Contest Tons of comma fun!
Mi camma to America wid a passion for moni en fud,
hoppin to getta rich;
en de sai det gold is founda in striz!
Mi work en work ol dei
to meke sam dollar,
en mi eat pizza, en drink vino...
mi wanna be lika Al Pacino:
a famos attor ov Hollivud!
En me veit too mani iers, to see butiful voman
laika Marilin Monro...whata a fess!
Whata a bodi! A Diva so sexi!
En mi wanna be laika Valentino from Italia,
to sedus ol duh pritty ladi vid mi ciarma;
en ol kiss mi...O locki Casanova!
English Translation:
I come to America with a passion for money and food,
hoping to get rich;
and they say that gold is found on streets!
I work and work all day
to make some dollar,
and I eat pizza and drink wine...
I would like to be like Al Pacino
a famous actor in Hollywood!
And I waited many years to see beautiful women
like Marilyn Monroe...what a face!
What a body! A Diva so sexy!
And I like to be like Valentino from Italy,
to seduce all the pretty ladies with my charm;
and they all kiss me...O lucky Casanova!!
Entered in Deborah's Gucci, " Dialects make the world go around "
(Brooklyn-Italian dialect)
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
~Dot Dot, Dot, Comma.~
The dot, dot, dot, a playfull rhythmic flow of audasity, overthrowing thee emotions into a Fantasy of endless Foreshadowing. A Pen licks the page, for itself has no comma, to stay your hand with, so dot dot dot, is like a comma to me. But when tiss over sometimes after a dot dot dot, leaving entranced the reader, The Pen sees no more words to be fitting. & What do I dispise most about the pen's loss of appitite, nothing, because I know that, that only shows more to discover in poetic form, un-like the comma.
Today begins a comma conundrum.
Writing poetry that must contain twelve.
Exactly twelve, no less, no more, will challenge us galore.
Laughing my head off, I now begin vying for fun fame.
Very curious I have become about the contest sponsor’s game
English writing requires commas to separate sentences, clauses, and lists.
Come on, now, one and all; join the comma fun!
Omit not a comma after clauses lest you cause your sentence to run!
Mistakes in comma usage send communications quickly askew.
Meandering words upon the page can make a reader turn blue.
Adverbs such as: therefore, nevertheless, and furthermore need commas, too.
So, study sentence structure and tell comma usage mistakes adieu.
© January 27, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: Tons of comma fun!
Sponsored by: Russell Sivey
~The Comma Butterfly~
I am a comma-not a full stop
I’m tawny brown and black and love on stinging nettles to hop
I love the elm and hop plant for flitting on too
I do all the other things butterflies do
I am not a great beauty like some of the rest
My fritillary wings do work just like the best
I don’t gain the oohs and arhs as I give butterfly kisses on my way
Some here call me a moth-well what can you say.
I flit and I kiss from elm to nettle
I always do my best and show them my mettle
A British butterfly I have beauty in my own way
Look under my wings and I bet you will say
Oh look there’s a comma marked under its wing
I suppose it a butterfly really poor thing
I flash them my markings before flitting on my way
I have so many more kisses to give out today.
By: Mandy Tams~GG~
Comma no coma, we just pause
Silence enables bliss
Fears and desires, suffering cause
We contract, serpents hiss
Slow dow hermit, slow down
Wipe of ego borne frown
In blissful rapture drown
Feel love’s aroma
Comma no coma
10-March-2023
Quietus
When I was younger, I would constantly proofread my suicide letter.
God forbid the last thing I be remembered by be an incorrectly used comma.
These days, I write poetry that merely dance around the subject.
It's worrisome to others, but I personally prefer this art to perfecting a last goodbye.
the green truck,
was waiting
in the drive way
the right words,
came too late
to the tip of my tongue
The empty canes of raspberries hang low
Red maple leaves are mashed up in the mud
Nature seems to hover by death’s door
Animals and humans drained as whores
No feeling ,no green sap,no flowing blood
The crackling canes of raspberries hang low as
What can we say un-cliched, metaphored?
At dawn the sun will burn despite the Flood
Nature did not force us through death’s door
Can the death of God mean this and more,
Though love and hate are fractured, life is good?
The chuckling canes the berries sang below
Can a life with heart not be restored?
End retaliation, understand
Nature did not wave us through the door
At the edge of Europe are no hordes
Jesus is more small than any bud
The crackling canes stored laughter in their cores
The remnants of the foxgloves in the wood
Wave politely . even seem to nod
The raspberry canes, the honesty know more
Nature ,light and darkness, affect stored
S
thy worldith isith thy canvasith.
thy painterith thy paintith.
thy poetith, makeith thy poetith.
thy worldith thy endith.
chickenith jockeyith.
THAT’S A COMMA, PERIOD
See
That’s the thing
I get to talk to you
And I can talk to you
I can yell about my yearning for yesterday
And learning about tomorrow
Where weeds too often grow
I get to sing a song to garner sympathy
As your sighs signify a symphony
You allow me to view sorrow in retrospect
And to always count on gaining what I least expect
You are sometimes my student
And other times a teacher tucked tidily into the corners of my life
And we converse
While we each rehearse our requisite responses
Measured not in tone
but rather what becomes known from the fogginess that fades fast and forever
And finally
At last
I can talk to someone who puts a comma at the end of my sentences
And a period so that I may rest after a thought wrought of a man’s better senses
See
That’s the thing
I can talk to you
© 2012…..PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~