Best Thorax Poems
Not-So-Heroic Couplets
by Donald Trump
care of Michael R. Burch
To outfox the pox:
kill yourself first, with Clorox!
And since death is the goal,
mainline Lysol!
No vaccine?
Just chug Mr. Clean!
Is a cure out of reach?
Fumigate your lungs, with bleach!
To immunize your thorax,
destroy it with Borax!
To immunize your bride,
drown her in Opti-cide!
To end all future gridlocks,
gargle with Vaprox!
Now, quick, down the Drain-o
with old Insane-o NoBrain-o!
Trump’s real goals are obvious
and yet millions of Americans remain oblivious.
—Michael R. Burch
Less Heroic Couplets: Just Desserts
by Michael R. Burch
“The West Antarctic ice sheet
might not need a huge nudge
to budge.”
And if it does budge,
denialist fudge
may force us to trudge
neck-deep in sludge!
NOTE: The first stanza is a quote by paleoclimatologist Jeremy Shakun in Science magazine.
Less Heroic Couplets: Miss Bliss
by Michael R. Burch
Domestic “bliss”?
Best to swing and miss!
Less Heroic Couplets: Then and Now
by Michael R. Burch
BEFORE: Thanks to Brexit, our lives will be plush! ...
AFTER: Crap, we’re going broke! What the hell is the rush?
Less Heroic Couplets: Dear Pleader
by Michael R. Burch
Is our Dear Pleader, as he claims, heroic?
I prefer my presidents a bit more stoic.
Less Heroic Couplets: Less than Impressed
by Michael R. Burch
for T. M., regarding certain dispensers of lukewarm air
Their volume’s impressive, it’s true ...
but somehow it all seems “much ado.”
Less Heroic Couplets: Poetry I
by Michael R. Burch
Poetry is the heart’s caged rhythm,
the soul’s frantic tappings at the panes of mortality.
Less Heroic Couplets: Poetry II
by Michael R. Burch
Poetry is the trapped soul’s frantic tappings
at the panes of mortality.
Less Heroic Couplets: Seesaw
by Michael R. Burch
A poem is the mind teetering between fact and fiction,
momentarily elevated.
Less Heroic Couplets: Passions
by Michael R. Burch
Passions are the heart’s qualms,
the soul’s squalls, the brain’s storms.
Keywords/Tags: Donald Trump, coronavirus, president, poet, poems, poetry, heroic couplets, couplet, humor, humorous, Clorox, Lysol, disinfectants, light verse, parody, satire, America, USA, giggle, political, natural disasters
Categories:
thorax, america, giggle, humor, humorous,
Form:
Heroic Couplet
The chitinous mechanics
of head, thorax, and abdomen,
clicking exoskeletons,
the chirring of dry whispers.
We admire the purposeful
simplicity of the heedless.
Houses crumble as evidence.
Trees rot and give witness.
Caves crawl
with their evidential passing -
they command the locomotion and menu,
of the inevitable.
We who must be consumed,
know that as prey we are not too large,
and so, we lumber on as elephants will,
on their way
to long prepared graveyards.
Categories:
thorax, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
Giant spider, climbing up the spout
Downward it tripped right on my pillow...
I croaked and rattled a loudest shout,
And glue-stick couldn't rid its long toes.
As thorax clung on the bedside wall
Spinning a web, a bold fight did dare
Wired mouth sprawled, I wanted to fall
But with my toy gun, war we declared.
I’ll pulp them eyes till the neck-bone drops
Spurting water on vile insect's tricks,
Until cape flings like a hero’s props...
It's Spiderman from Marvel comics!
Debbie Guzzi's Monsters and Marvels Contest
nette onclaud
Categories:
thorax, fantasy, funny, hero,
Form:
Quatrain
(*Note- I suggest you read this with a boom box going in your head. Can you dig it?)
Yo,
Now gather round, my brothers ,settle down while I regale ya
with some tales about my lady from the kingdom Animalia,
and it's gonna take a while ,so listen up, coz there's a lotta
things I think you need to know about the Phylum Arthropoda.
Now, mah baby's got some colour and she's lookin' really cute
with her wings so finely tailored that you'd never find a suit
with such material so delicate and colours that just gleam
if you checked out what they sell in Rubenstein's in New Orleans.
Well, her six legs work together in a symphony of class
as from head down through her thorax she can really shake some ass,
though their fronts are smooth and silky, on her calves they're real spikey
food receptors on her feet so she ain't never wearing Nikes.
All the same she gives good lurvin', such a passionate embrace
though I wasn't too impressed first time I ever saw her face.
With her two big baby blues (and they're real mothers) compound eyes
I can never tell if she is checking out some other guys
and I'm careful when we kiss, as she has got one big proboscis
gotta make sure that ahm well away when every time she flosses.
Never saw her family photos and it's somethin' ah should miss
'coz her pupae was damn ugly and so was her Chrysalis.
Though we're going steady now I couldn't marry if I wanna
'coz she says in six month's time that she is going to be be a gonner.
And she only drinks from puddles, for the salts that appetize her
so I sit and watch and crack mahself a bottle of Budweiser.
Well I thank yo all for hearing me and listening to mah song
and I know to some my love affair may seem just slightly wrong
but I caught her eye and she moved in with just her heart to guide her
and I fell for her and we began to- hold on...DAMN! A SPIDER!!!
4th December 2015
For contest 'Butterflies- men only, sponsored by Skat A and Poet Destroyer A
Categories:
thorax, butterfly, , cute,
Form:
Rhyme
Memories of a love I’m losing
arrested thoughts on sculpture paper-
an altered photograph, adorned
by hand cut leaves, evergreen shades, and lace
From the page emits, cricket songs
drifting to gloaming, and on and on
into my own mandarin twilight.
I adjust a pair of glittered wings
to your thorax, twiddle them
these symbols of your intending flight
Next, I place a crumpled love letter.
its text, garbled by smeared on gesso
Covered so no one will guess the message-
except, perhaps where a small spy glass
magnifies, I LoVe YoU- I LoVe YoU-
High on the page a bluebird brightly sings
10/28/2013 10:17 AM
Categories:
thorax, art, i love you,
Form:
Free verse
Hour hands clock back sixty minutes of Autumn
Round about this same of month every year, what a bum
er, and inconvenient truth diverged from this chum
purposelessly manipulating a hold over
sans yesteryear doth drum
a sensation of jet lag (with earth in the balance)
as if flying within time machine at warp speed from
this station, where bumpy ride invariably finds me
feeling a bit ticked off and glum
and in no mood to rhyme, nor be leer re: cull
juiced barely tantamount to gather scattered wits
sin tide, and express mood as hoe hum
fortunate, this chronological seismic shift nada wide, ah assume
nonetheless, mein kempf cerebral hemispheric plate tectonics
comb pluck hated off jangling black keys helplessly boom
fancifully drifting and booring into quick ribald sand trap doom
ming an inducement for emergency convoy, when pitched from
sea to figurative shining sea – gram ma mother earth glum
where live yikyak wired vanguard trulia tried optimism to hum
nonetheless, swallowed down behavioral sink went – me mum
bling bloviation, once worth matchless peerage, now pitched numb
lee into morass of temporary confusion, where plumb
line delineating circadian rhythm offset, when athwart pilot rum
man strait ting and bickering with Lilliputians slum
bring within islets of langerhans defiantly thumb
ming nose, where body, mind & soul weeknd viz a bully did cower
hence mister clock, who got high-jacked 3600 seconds per hour
experienced head, thorax and abdomen diminishing in power
wrought indistinguishable Whitsuntide as sour
grapes imposing ill fitting sea legs, which folded like a faulty tower
crumbling skeletal carapace, resoundingly surrendered,
and back slid vis a vis space/time continuum did devour.
Black hole event horizon indeed kept lock step as das joint mill hoard
Sucker punched the band wagon of father time, whose riffs a silent chord
nsync with atomic fractional second bored
quirky shenanigans toying with chronometers
counter point of view shifted to oppose this minute accord.
Categories:
thorax, allusion, assonance, autumn, fun,
Form:
Free verse
that fish patiently wait
at interface of water and fate
burping bubbles for their troubles
water bugs and mosquitoes
unwilling, unsettling for nibbling placebos
acting on a deeper, more hungry drive
to ascend today, eager to stay alive
jaws set wide for voracious consumption
sweet thorax collapses to juicy bite
hooked into a jarring compunction
steeling the air now, a painful insight
to bait, to fish, to hunger, to wish
to fish, to bait, to consume, to sate
ichthyes pisces, jumpin' Jehovah might these
waggin' winged fins fly these troubles away
jumpin' the air and pulling the lines
hard to believe that the mettle redefines
the parts played of the hunter and hunted
penetrating mistakes are now confronted
shoulda looked at bit harder towards a bait
to now spit out this damned curved harpoon
at any rate, it's beyond meaningful debate
escaping unlikely - freedom inopportune
panning to sky, maybe panned over fire
maybe that end ain't so bad after all
peckishly satiating lifes consuming desire
fish for a fisherman so that life takes all
© Goode Guy 2013-06-19
Categories:
thorax, betrayal, change, fish, fishing,
Form:
Quatrain
My pretty dazzling peacock
How beautiful you are
My dazzling princess,
Obviously;
To any man’s eyes blind, mad or dumb, beauty!
Not a scarce jewel to you
Your teeth arranged-
A pattern beautiful than the navy parade
Don’t even get me started:
Your thorax, ribs so harpic
A look at them I feel musical
Wanna become a harpist.
Your sexy silence
How calming it is to my thoughts
Your deep dark eyes
How they seem to look deep
Deep enough to see through me
The smile!
Oh the secret suggestive smile
How it brings out elegance royal virtues
A real angelic diva
A thought of my presence in you
Really an unsolved equation
It is a priceless pleasure
No one has ever managed this to me
How I can’t explain my suffocation,
Muscle melt down,
Unstoppable drooling,
What an expensive thought.
Just a peck my dear
My life vaporizes away from me
From a far in its dark world,
My fumbling soul follows the brightest light
To land on your tensed face
Snap my life is back
Straight into the arms of my dazzling angel.
Categories:
thorax, girlfriend-boyfriend, beautiful, me, dark,
Form:
Classicism
~~A Monarch in the Lilac Bush~~
There she was dressed in full array
The most beautiful Monarch butterfly posing quietly before me
As I painted her wings upon my canvas
Motionless except for a few moments when she stretched her wings
Caught up in the moment
My heart was captivated by her beauty
Her leopard-spotted thorax
And her stained glass window wings
A beauty to behold like a priceless Mona Lisa
Her antennae erect
And her soft spindly feet
The tapestry of her splendor was beyond my wildest imagination
Caught up in the moment
My heart was captivated by her beauty
There she was dressed in full array
My perfect butterfly
My Mona Lisa...ahhh!
Written by Gwendolen Rix
8-26-14
Categories:
thorax, art, beauty, butterfly, garden,
Form:
Free verse
Commenced
as a tiny
egg glued to foliage.
Maturing bondage in a shell
awaits
Larva.
Eating, growing,
full size caterpillar
outgrows its present confines.
Splitting
Again.
Reattaching
itself with liquid from
its spinneret . Creating a
button.
hanging
little pupa
dieting, motionless,
metamorphosing completely
anew
Cracking,
exposing head
and thorax first. Followed
by legs and golden wings of a
Monarch.
Categories:
thorax, animals, nature
Form:
Cinquain
At home, I have witness them all,
Witness the process of germinating
From precious seed sown amongst thorn and tares,
To taken root, even when there’s no chance
There is unverified full hatred,
Wild spurious jealousy from unlikely,
To nothing he would amount, voices their hearts;
Contrariwise, out of nothing came something,
I have been slain, buried and resurrected
Used, laundered and rejected like a dress
Kindred, neighbours, acquaintance fellows alike
I dreamt of monitors, daemons with sharp horns
On top, with needle arrows aiming at me;
Vomiting fierce sulfur Dragon blocking my path,
Seen faceless monsters hindering me,
Fearsome beast from ancient castle stalking me,
Even Goliath ghost with quadruple eyes on the thorax
Nails shooting out like razors,
Mysterious the Thing with dozen of various heads
And the deadly blood angry serpents
Issuing forth, curling like hair and like smoke.
I came to where the godfather turned in
The only begotten for sacrifice for gore,
And a son pledge the mother to gain wealth,
A man after gaining illusory riches
Began to pack hyenas into his closest
Boding migrating to extinction,
Gingerly being the same soft vessels
Began to hiss, hound, tearing and calling
Heaven and earth to loose
And pour down venom on likable.
They quests and guests for witchcraft
Taking would be expected thought of foes,
And brought home this deadly talisman
Applied them and used accordingly on intended
The one used must be potent than the one
Already prepared for protection against antagonist
Test negativity means scoffer is given to taste
The prepare soup.
Categories:
thorax, mystery
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
Gasping for air, nostrils flare
At the profile of her elegant mare
Stroking the ground with each hoof
Rearing his dominance to the roof
He suspends moments in time
With each stride like a pendulum
The seductive sway of her trademarks
Pulsating the sinews of his thorax
The whip of her tail his jog
The whiff of his mane in sync
He’s the head, but she takes the lead
Pounding ahead like a thoroughbred
The body throbs like a heart muscle
Poetry in motion like a chartered vessel
Her hind drives with perfect rhythm
His gallop resounding the love anthem
They ride their whims like free spirits
Power is his course, stamina is her force
Torque is the body language they speak
Riding in unison to reach the intended peak
Categories:
thorax, beauty, mythology, sexy,
Form:
Rhyme
So you’re her saviour
God’s gift to woman to savour
Six packs and thorax like a superhero
Shoulders bulging like a Mandingo
So you’re a romantic, a charmer
Body built like a hummer
My role as decided by this lottery...
Jealousy for this great robbery
A senseless inference
She’s a woman of great deference
A notion your eyebrowage fails to apprehend...
The indifference to the delicacy of a rose in that vice like hand
Return to the caves
And stop breeding in droves
So I can never have her hand
Because she’s wired...
Categories:
thorax, heartbreak, jealousy,
Form:
Rhyme
trapped,
safeguarded,
each appendage
secured in amber,
some Jurassic specimen
created for your gaze
you regard me
with a quizzical eye,
comb your notes carefully
for collected data
on my anomalies
how to straighten this limb,
shape this abdomen,
bend this thorax
to fashion the perfect
exemplar of your
scientific prowess
no manufactured artifice
will satisfy you
you deftly maneuver
and rearrange,
cut and reassemble,
manipulating your scalpel
and forceps
until you have your prize,
flawless and complete,
but for the glue
leaking from the seams
Categories:
thorax, abuse, betrayal, mental health,
Form:
Free verse
When a young boy I was,
I equated ability with age;
The elderly must have, so I thought;
Age seemed to me all that counted;
I quested for the needful and the not,
Mama was a super being,
Papa was almighty god;
Their love for me helped my view,
As my wish daily came to be;
If I had asked for the sky,
I would have had stars and sun,
In my room like other toys.
When a young boy I was,
Papa was the richest that ever lived,
The strongest under the sky,
Stronger than lion and horse,
Bigger than law and rule;
Mama was the perfection,
One that could never wrong,
Standard for others to measure;
No woman was mother enough,
But she who often came to me
With cookie she freely gave.
Now my central head is Sahara ,
Halt pity, I am not shortchanged;
My goatee compensates the glass afore;
Again ,I’m Johnbull’s able-dad,
The day I went to town with him,
Johnbull saw a cute Ferrari,
Daddy buy it,son decreed;
When have I become Ronaldo?
By the tallest building in Abu-Dhabi
Daddy buy it, son said sofort.
The day Klitschiko won a war,
And his name rent the air;
A voice in the crowd rang aloud:
Who can stand the iron man?
Johnbull’s spontaneous reply:
Daddy, daddy, my daddy can;
Hey!I looked at Johnbull’s daddy’s fist,
A good sight of mustard seed;
Next I checked out his daddy’s chest;
Bit broader than cricket’s thorax,
Could I be the thunderbolt ?
One and only Johnbull’s superman?
Then I remember my johnbull years,
Could this be kinder's trait,
That daddy is often a god ?
Categories:
thorax, childhood, , cute,
Form:
Verse