Best Graph Poems
If anyone breathing is somehow still unaware
That there is plenty of Viagra to be shared,
Just relax and turn on your television.
Soon enough, it will be repeatedly mentioned.
You may wish to gather your entire family,
As it seems the ad’s mission and company’s vision
Is to garner even our children’s attention.
There you go, parents – helpful advertising wisdom.
On screen, a barefoot, reclining, assured lady in a dress,
Will smile and coo before rising as an attractive tigress
Whose words and moves will deliberately caress
Our growing belief in men’s right to uplifting success.
So, turn on any nighttime show you please,
Share and munch on crackers and cheese
And discover Viagra at your family’s ease.
United, commit to the four hour decree –
Should Viagra last that long on anyone’s behalf,
Do not take pictures, brag to friends or laugh,
But immediately contact medical staff.
Apparently, they keep some sort of graph.
GRAPH LINE
below the graph line
once again
how did it start
where does it end
zig-zagging
off the chart
numbers
twitch then dart
tearing me apart
high then low
off the chart
aspiring to
that flat line
just one more
final
time
© Kim van Breda—4 January 2016
She Peruses and She Plans
… What Would Move ...
Every Girl, Boy, Woman and Man
For Communication, Is An Art…
The Poetess, Has Written Down
What Was In Her Heart…
From the science I finally pulled out,
After my homework unleashed a shout:
An All-Times The Strangest Graph;
To our Physics Teacher, “Perfect Chaff…”
And it made the poor gentleman weep;
Awkwardly try something like a laugh,
His skin beginning to creep;
Tried though he to make it cowhide tough…
For a whole week, a graph was a secret
But later alerted the A solemn Staff
For being humorless evidence quite concrete
I had a target mi, by greater half.
Let me plot a graph for this love
From when were young and look
At the skies like a ball in a movie;
You were the X axis and I, the Y,
In case you never realise where we begun.
Let me fold this graph of love in case is
The last time so that it will remind me
Where we began this sweet soup love.
It hard to win your love back to my soul
Because everything now takes me back like
When you were there with a muse to love.
Part of me still holding on, I still care.
Let this graph remind me exactly how we were
When we were young moulding clay in the rain,
I will cherish the longing head that uplift me.
(C) John Chizoba Vincent
All Right Reserved