Best Conan Poems
“Holmes, what is the secret of your glory,
What keeps us thrilled and rapt right to the end?”
“The hook of a swell detective story -
Quite elementary, my modern friend."
“Your methods by deduction, I must tell,
Earned you renown for the most brilliant mind.”
“Crime is common, logic rare, so I dwell
On hidden clues, the suspects leave behind.”
"Some tricky cases racked Scotland Yard's brains,
What would be your best sleuthing card to play?"
"The very truth lies in what still remains,
As slim improbabilities outweigh."
“With such demanding hardcore duty, you
must have pastime of some distinguished type.”
“No doubt, my curious fan, I have a few:
Observations, dear Watson and my pipe.”
“Where are you in the matters of the heart,
The rumor has it, women aren’t your 'thing'?”
“There was but one I held in high regard,
The one, who could plot well as well as sing.”
“With due respect to your uncanny wit,
What’s your advice to those, who murder still?”
“One’s life is not your own, hands off it,
No one is granted a license to kill!”
“Would you please share your most frustrating case?”
“Here, the cold one to my shame and disgrace :
Watson and I once camping at the site,
Turned out to be a very chilled event.
By shrewdly staring at the starry night,
I then deduced that someone stole our tent!
That scurrilous tent thief getting away,
Like Speckled Band still haunts me to this day.”
"Born most revered detective of all times,
Well, Sherlock, what’s the saga of your birth?”
“This basic question, though I solved tough crimes,
You’d ask Sir Conan Doyle for what that’s worth.”
February 5, 2022
Categories:
conan, character,
Form:
Rhyme
The 44th President “one who is blessed” in Swahili,
Happens to love his wife’s Shrimp Linguini.
His desk, in the senate office once belonged to Robert Kennedy!
Renegade Tried to make it in to an all black male calendar,
But was rejected by an all female committee.
He wares $1500 Hart Schaffer suits,
With one of his identical pair of size 11 shoes.
When the president stands up you never hear any boo’s.
A few good luck charms he has with him,
A Madonna and child frozen for eternity,
And a bracelet of the arm of a man fighting in Iraq.
Bar can lift an impressive 200 pounds wile lying on his back.
His favorite delight to drink is Black forest iced tea,
Wile looking at his red boxing gloves signed by Mohamed Ali.
But never ask him out to Baskin Robbins, he don’t like ice cream.
But if you gave him a chocolate protein bar his dream.
Hide any dog meat snake meat or roasted grasshoppers up high,
For all these things he has tried.
All wile keeping his dignified pride.
He gets a snip and a trim once a week cost him $21 dollars,
That’s real cheap thanks to Zariff.
In whom the Obomber confides in to talk about the week.
He mite have been the one who convinced the malotoe,
To trade his Chrysler 300 in for the hybrid.
His memoirs, Dreams from My Father won a Grammy in 2006.
He was o past war president that was left handed the 6th.
He left a stag party which had a stripper in 1996.
As a teenager he tried marijuana and cocaine,
And Berry collects comic books like spider-man and Conan the Barbarian.
His specialty as cook is chili,
His favorite TV shows are Mash and The Wire.
He has four places in a Chicago home to build a fire.
He uses an apple Mac laptop to look at Pablo Picasso art.
He has read every Harry Potter book,
I wonder if he spoke Spanish to his pet ape back in Indonesia.
Categories:
conan, black-african amer
Form:
Rhyme
Uncle Gay Gayballs gobbled down a big whale
It was a good killer who began to swell
It pressed his southern part
But Gay was very smart
He sat on Mister Bart and read Conan Doyle
Uncle Gay Gayballs/ Limerick Copyright (c) Rajat Kanti Chakrabarty 11/22/2014
Categories:
conan, fun, humor, nonsense,
Form:
Limerick
MARVEL 1960s
As I journey into mystery
I come across the tower of shadows
Into the chamber of darkness
I'm found tales to astonish
Hulking and giant men
Sub marina
Involved in tales of supense
Iron men and american Captains
Oh! but strange tales
Doctors and one eye patch wearing --
government men
Women named Millie and Chili
and both of them are modeling
Alien beings silver surfering in the skies
UFO's and nova alien beings from all over
Barbarian conan astonishing tales
Kazar Doctors of doom, ghost riders
Adventures amazing inhumans
Black widow, cloak and dagger
Rawhide kid Sgtof fury howling commandos
Leatherneck raiders and Captain Savage
dun know if ya old enough
or even if you know what I'm talkin bout
Mention titles above of marvel 1960's hero books
who say's this poem has to rryme of even be good
I said mention above titles of old marvel comic texts
And yea I'll even mention "NOT BRAnD ECHH"
MARVEL 1960s
Written by James Edward Lee Sr.
12/23/17
Categories:
conan, appreciation, character, dedication, hero,
Form:
Heroic Couplet
At my college graduation
There most likely was a speech,
But my memory of whose it was
Is simply out of reach.
Yet today celebrities can claim
Commencement’s greatest prize –
All those celebrating graduates
To bolster and advise.
Surely Conan, Oprah, Ellen
Would a nifty speech produce
But I envy those who listened
To a talk by Dr. Seuss.
It was many years ago, it’s true
And I just read a part of it
But just as you’d expect,
Some perfect rhyme was at the heart of it.
Had I been there, I can guarantee
That I would recollect
Both the message and his manner
And more words than you’d expect.
But instead, my graduation day
Has faded from my mind,
Though I’ll bet there was some wisdom
That the speaker hoped we’d find.
Categories:
conan, graduation,
Form:
Rhyme
I AM A MAN WITH AN GOLDEN EYE
AND THATS' WHY I DON'T BOTHER ABOUT MY BRAIN DEAD
ALL I WANT IS TO ENTER THE DRAGON
- IN THE SHANGAI NOON
'COS I AM A DARE DEVIL AND ITS MY BASIC INSTICT
ALSO I HAVE THE RING
AND THAT'S THE SWEETEST THING OF ME
WHEN I BEND IT LIKE BECKHAM
AND MY MISSION IMPOSSIBLE
MY WORLD IS NOT ENOUGH FOR ME ME
THE GHOST IN ME SAYS, CATCH ME IF YOU CAN
AND I RUN,
COS' MY BLOOD TIED OF AN INDECENT PROPOSAL
IF I WERE UNFAITHFUL AND MY TOMORROW NEVER DIES
THEN I WILL BE THE UNHOLY, YET
ALL OF MY DAYS WERE SPENT IN THE HAUNTING
JUST LIKE NOTTING HILL,
EVEN THOUGH I WERE A GLADIATOR
I WAS KISSED BY THE PERFECT STORM
AND STOOD ALONE IN THE DEEP BLUE SEA,
BETWEEN THE MEN OF HONOR, I WAS LIKE A HOLLOW MAN
YET TO BECOME LIKE CONAN THE BARARIAN
FINALLY, I LEARNT THAT THESE WERE THE END OF DAYS
BUT I WANNA DIE ANOTHER DAY
Categories:
conan, me,
Form:
Blank verse
RADIO VOICES
Thirty-three and a half minutes listening to the static;
I'm one big ear! hoping to hear a message
from the other side...
Beethoven has an unfinished symphony he wants completed,
Arthur Conan Doyle complains fiction today is all detective work,
Joan of Arc loves Mel Brooks.
Thirty-four and a half minutes and my patience snaps;
I turn to RTE, the writer Derek Mahon
Is being discussed by a panel.
They've detected importance in his poem
'A Disused Shed in Co. Wexford'.
Mushrooms decaying in the dark,
Holy Joes adrift in a Godless cellar,
Sweethearts who've missed the boat,
Bollards moored in misery,
Death-pale and ghostly.
I would store this poem in a cool dark place
and only bring it out into the light of day
for a bookish friend, a literature hound;
it merits close inspection.
Categories:
conan,
Form:
Free verse
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Holmes, I am enormously elated,
how it all started, may I ask, though somewhat belated.”
“I was working silently solving intricate murder cases,
until Conan Doyle picked me up from many sleuth faces,
narrated my exploits in words of my friend, Dr. Watson,
and since then the limelight upon me was always on”.
“You had been a private detective par excellence,
what was your forte in the profession in essence?”
“I believed in proficiency with careful observation,
used common sense for the methodical deduction,
in order to solve surely the manipulated mystery
I applied logical reasoning, forensic science helped me,
derived rational conclusion before the culprit was gone
and I said to my friend, it’s elementary, dear Watson.”
“You liked to spend time leisurely smoking pipe at home,
you looked dispassionate, what energized you, Mr. Holmes?”
“Whenever I got complex investigations so much hard
to deal with like the ones given to me by the Scotland Yard,
I was excited instantly if these were tough mystery ridden,
discovered within simple evidences the vital clues hidden,
I showed then intentionally the flair of my showmanship
to impress observers my thinking line in me I used to keep.”
“A legendary detective you had made yourself people see,
you were considered an iconic character, do you agree?”
“Solving mysteries for justice to the victims I strived to try,
I was the only one doing this in the Victorian era gone by.
I was happy receiving for my exciting job so much admiration,
live content retired in a farm with beekeeping as occupation.”
(Sherlock Holmes is a fictional detective character created by
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle)
_________________
February 11, 2022
Contest : A Conversation With A Fictional Character
Sponsored by : Natasha L Scragg
Categories:
conan, character, imagination, mystery,
Form:
Rhyme
7/25/21
Until infinity
In any vicinity
Let me put it out there officially
I smoke and drink religiously
Call it the holy trinity
Initially
You'd think it does not mean s*** to me
And that all of it was done deliberately
Don't need your sympathy
Back-up or an infantry
Going to handle it differently
Instead of taking it all literally
This took effort and energy
Listen up Beverly
And Jeffery
A sad tune and melody
No cure or remedy
Every
Century
Continual treachery
Impacting longevity
Lives put in jeopardy
Done in plain sight or with discrepancy
Only thing left is a memory
The cycle going on endlessly
In case you're unaware
Had to start somewhere
I once cared
Now my heart, it's nothing there
People often just stare
Realize real life never was fair
I'd just hide and brush it to the side
I ain't got all the time
Or I'll fall behind
In a world full of crime
I've tried to keep an open mind
Instead of being asinine
Occasionally drinking seltzer with alkaline
Still looking for my valentine
While close and far from power lines
Became friends with a Porcupine
They never tried to undermine
Or made me feel like Frankenstein
Often I'm Jekyll but then I change to Hyde
All this rage inside
Is today the day I die?
Soldier, stand down
Don't be a damn clown
When there's toxic gas around
And in the sky a giant ash cloud
So what if they have doubts
And want to bad mouth
Once again I'm about to black out
All across the homeland
She needs to get with the program
I've been on that Conan
So she can get some romance
Watch me do it with no hands
Another body another toe tag
Like Godzilla against Rodan
Instead of always being so mad
Find a solution by making your own plan
Otherwise it all could go bad
Categories:
conan, dark, deep, life, poetry,
Form:
Rhyme
a carvery the sadistical it plough the salt on pewter it swords poles, rods,
it makes that satic it means a Conan, it twilight it scourges, it raid the emcamp it ask not
a baby humanity it ask not in eye, it had it gouged out
it asked the arm torn off it asked the nimrouiB Khan it asked it carried the a pole 50foot og long it made
it decapitated its own men women, child has thrown o'er these off a wall, 10s oh thousands
i sleuth it winds, it smouldered they ofh it made decapitated, a head oh a stick, do tell oh the inge
it taught og these own it asked oh me taught of the body og
women, i asked it Sorceri it Sargent it ask og me how is it the sticks, here is Herod, it me plough how we did meek it slaughtered
be me it taugh a central og it body part removal made a fistula
feed feel not it make of a feminine it made she, it stolen her it made i
me slouch a i a child is made a man, he Wilders the post
be k be known it hunted humanity it body become of apple
Categories:
conan, allah, america, anger, appreciation,
Form:
Alliteration
Conan Doyle LAY of the LINKS
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/\ \ _ °
¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥
Categories:
conan, sports,
Form:
Shape
I used to watch sunsets in your eyes. But something changed, I began to catch you in
lies. Don't act like it's strange, and seem surprised. Your tears can't heal my pain. So stop
the theatrics and tell me his name! It's a shame, that a grown successful woman succombs
to playing games.
You think you can destroy me emotionally by your infidelity? What goes around comes
around. You just inherited a new enemy! It's hard to imagine I was sharing my lady with
another man. How could this happen? But life goes on and my heart is strong like Conan!
Love is something I've tried believing, and looks can be deceiving. See, I thought I
settled with you in a comfortable place, but I discovered a devil behind a beautiful face! I
suffered from your deadly embrace, and your lies have left a bitter taste. Once upon a time
I would have sworn you were magnificent! It just blows my mind, that inside you're just
counterfit.
You must be sick in the head, and completely out of your mind. To return from his bed
with palm prints on your behind! I am appalled you don't even try and hide it. The situation
must make you sexually excitied! Do you get pleasure from hurting those in your life? I'm
willing to materialistically sacrifice, to close the curtain on you as my wife!
People ask are you a man or a mouse? Okay - I'll take the TV and you can have the
house. So no more fussin, cussin on who gets what. You can have it all and stick it up your
butt! I will find someone else, that's not an issue; and hell no I won't miss you! I'm out the
door with these nikes on my feet. Call me an athlete, because you're left in the dust! I hope
without me it's misery for you to adjust!
Congratulations, for a short time you caused me pain and misery. And all those people
who told you to S#$t on me, no doubt you'll need them when I get out, so you can wipe your
a$$! You nasty Jezebel with no class!
Categories:
conan, angst, mystery, wifeme, people,
Form:
Free verse
As a boy Charles fished on the Thames riverside
He had a songbird, a dog, but life took a slide
His father got him a dead-end job in a Scottish town
It became a vortex bringing him down.
He got married young, soon nine kids to feed
His job barely paid; how could he get freed?
He illustrated books, still not enough
If you want to restart, in that situation its tough.
He ordered goods on loan, sold them for the bottle
Urge above reason, opened up full throttle.
He raided his kid's money box, he had little choice
The craving was too strong, it suppressed that moral voice.
One night he drank wood varnish, had no money for a drink
Such crazy self-damage drove him over the brink
Got delirium tremens, for months had to crawl
Doors closed behind him, he entered hell hall.
He ended up confined in a mental home.
Hallucinations crept in, much memory gone,
Was he a victim, or would you call it his sin?
Punished beyond justice, then epilepsy did him in.
For Charle's son Arthur, fate made amends
Arthur made his own path; could back out of dead ends
He created "Sherlock Holmes" a story that still has a hold
He wanted more fame for other books, but there he stuck gold.
Maybe Charles too could have made it, was not sealed for doom
Didn't have to have ethanol carve the letters on his tomb
But the craving is strong, drugs modify the brain
Sheer willpower can't take a man off the runaway train.
Categories:
conan, addiction, character, drink, england,
Form:
Lyric
His sanguine spirit turns every firefly into a star.
—Arthur Conan Doyle
Sky of Fireflies
Might I return to the night, alone,
except for the pitter patter of rain,
except for the thunderbolt of fireworks,
somewhere in the distance, rather
close, yet unattainable, except by foot
or engine roar, through my forest
and over the hill, beyond the houses,
might I return to the night, alone.
On the deck, my extravaganza begins,
beyond my nose, my fingertips, the screen.
In July, a rampant light show, as if
stars rappelled just above the human heart.
This electrifying dominion, quite unexpected.
The earth, moistened and morose. Osmosis
of celebration and outlandish spectacle,
for an audience of one. Oh! How good God is!
Amidst crackles and whistles, the strobes,
of an army of fireflies, light up my backyard.
Curious as Alice, have I fallen into Wonderland?
I have a front row seat sans willows, comets
and Chrysanthemums, but the sky over
my sodden green moss is the epitome
of heaven on earth; His presence in the night.
Categories:
conan, memory,
Form:
Free verse
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
Born on Scottish soil
Both writer and physician, he delivered us Sherlock Holmes.
A spiritualist too, he believed in fairies; possibly in gnomes!
Categories:
conan, write,
Form:
Clerihew