Best Wayland Poems
I tell you I like, that Wayland a bunch
He'd be the guy, to be there in a crunch
Not afraid of humor, he paves the way
With clerihew words, he loves to play
Let's talk of Eileen, the Queen of passion
Her verses of pleasure, will not be rationed
She causes men to rise, women to weep
Many a farmer, have stopped counting sheep
Then there is Shadow, who is a bright light
Her name suggests darkness, but that isn't right
With a pen and paper, she loves to play
Out of the Shadow, poems brighten our day
There is the woman Donna, she is filled with charm
For her animals, she'd give her left arm
Still here in the soup, she adds her own spice
She's a little bit hot and a whole lot of nice
When it comes to Eagles Montery's the last word
She's not in a flock she's a solitary bird
With her strong wings creating a breeze
Verses dance on the wind with the greatest of ease
I can't forget about Richard, now there's a man
He teases Eileen, just because he can
Yet within the humor, his clever exists
His poetic talents, impossible to miss.
My friend Vicky T, has brought me to tears
She possesses insight well beyond her years
A voice from the wilderness, please take heed
Wisdom resides in her poems that we read
When it comes to nature, our Nette is the girl
She makes mountains quiver and pretty leaves twirl
To angelic worlds she causes us to travel
Brooks are helpless she makes them all babble
Our Andrea she is well beyond great
Her words are profound they carry such weight
Regardless of form, many contests she wins
She's top of the heap, before she begins
Becca's a doll, with a sensitive pen
She writes of the now and also the then
Her words magical, a muse guides her pen
Capturing my mind again and again
This place amazing, a Mystical Rose
A unique handle my creative friend chose
Perfect for her that woman has style
A perfect seven at the top of the pile
My buddy Drake he has really mad skills
With words like honey the airways he fills
If you are lucky he'll let you co-host
To him I raise a glass to happily toast
Others must wait I'm running out of Rymes
I will write of them some other time
Until then I must wish you all goodbye
Have a sip of my soup, give it a try.
Inspired to try my first Clerihew by
Wayland Bunch. Hopefully I have got it right.
Categories:
wayland, tribute,
Form:
Clerihew
As thephilosopher readies for his p soup anniversary
Remembering he found this place last Christmas Day
Surely the best gift he did receive
Now for some holiday fun, DON”T LEAVE
Denise Narayadu I can't end the line with her name
To mispronounce it with a bad rhyme would be a shame
Her writing has very much intrigued me
In her poems often it's myself that I see
Of Anne Lise Andressen what can I toast
She's in a contest of which Debbi G is the host
Of who Santa Clause is her knowledge has a lack
If she asked I could easily have told her it's Jack
I mean look at Jack, white beard, hair a jolly feller
If my put my original line here, I'd be locked in a cellar
Any American could mistake Canada for the north pole
It's cold, I've never been there and at times there's a lot of snow
Jack Ellison in his Santa role this time of year
Oh from the straight and narrow often does he veer
Constant approval from the p soup ladies, I know he smiles
If I was Santa his naughty list would stretch for miles
Andrea D secretly a hater of the Villanelle
That’s atrocious what’s my basis you say
She hosted a contest and a thousand forms she will allow
BUT a max of 12 lines leaves me saying CHINGADO
PD, the SWEETEST poet destroyer she told me
A philosopher asks how sweet a destroyer can be
The poet in me reads her work with much confusion
The imagery addicting but my understanding a delusion
Becca Lucas the girl who lost her muse
If she had schizophrenia she may have several to lose
However several other problems this would pose
If one of them was mean I may be a victim of her prose
FJ Thomas gave me the wonderful gift of the Fibonacci
She might deserve a song but my muse isn’t Liberace
She wrote the Art of Being Broken, a deep piece but not long
Did some guy really leave a comment quoting a poison song
And finally I will close with Richard Lamoureux
If you haven’t seen his clerihew read it TODAY
Quiet humorous, he pokes fun with affection
His first clerihew was a work of perfection
Yes on a few new names Wayland did call
Unfortunately he still hasn’t got to them all
Some he intentionally won’t mention
It’s Christmas Eve and he seeks no dissention
Categories:
wayland, dedication, funny,
Form:
Clerihew
I remember when I held the world in these hands
Nothing out of reach as I self proclaimed my power
That time long forgotten the hourglass lost it’s sand
Yes I lived in a world of deadlines and demands
A master of time, always early at least half an hour
I remember when I held the world in these hands
Always alert sensing my victory before my stand
Any obstacle or objection I would quickly devour
That time long forgotten the hourglass lost it’s sand
Is there anything left of that person, maybe a strand
It’s not from any fear, but indifference that I cower
I remember when I held the world in these hands
For this tragic change I could have never planned
Everything that tasted so sweet is now bitter and sour
That time long forgotten the hourglass lost it’s sand
Almost six years later, I still cannot understand
In the late hours of night, I’m left to now scour
I remember when I held the world in these hands
That time long forgotten the hourglass lost it’s sand
Penned by Wayland Bunch II 12/14/2013 for With These Hands contest
I used image #6 for this poem
Categories:
wayland, life, memory, sad,
Form:
Villanelle
What is this feeling that resides in me
I’ve felt it before, but not quiet the same
Was I stung by the sweetest honey bee
When did Cupid pass that I did not see
Certainly in this matter I have no shame
What is this feeling that resides in me
A nervousness I feel, coupled with glee
I am smiling a lot, but am not to blame
Was I stung by the sweetest honey bee
The experience makes me feel very free
But this moth has not eluded the flame
What is this feeling that resides in me
Something tells me, that I must decree
Inside there’s a wildness I can’t tame
Was I stung by the sweetest honey bee
I’ve felt some joy, but not of this degree
It must be real, yet it feels like a game
What is this feeling that resides in me
Was I stung by the sweetest honey bee
Written by Wayland Bunch on 1/31/2013 for Valentine contest.
Categories:
wayland, love,
Form:
Villanelle
Holding onto a dream without a face
Paralyzed in limbo, not here or there
Following a road that leads no place
Where are you , please leave a trace
I'm overwhelmed by things to share
Holding onto a dream without a face
Desiring only to have my little space
Existing happily only one single care
Following a road that leads no place
Wanting once to not end in disgrace
Taking this for granted I do not dare
Holding onto a dream without a face
I don't understand this, I have no base
Sorry, I don't know how I can prepare
Following a road that leads no place
Fatigued in this never ending rat race
Ultimate failure, I'm not able to bear
Holding onto a dream without a face
Following a road that leads no place
by Wayland Bunch
Categories:
wayland, dark, dream, dream,
Form:
Villanelle
Poem 2 for the teamwork contest
Where is the light that lived within
Why has the flame of doubt appeared
The trees bend slightly in the wind
Towards darkness now have you veered
Focus on the things dear to you
Where is the light that lived within
Your day will come before it's through,
You that have lived not died with sin.
Deep in your soul you seek therein
The pleasures that should not have been
Where is the light that lived within
Questions of how this came and when
How long have you abandoned life
What have you done where have you been
Will you choose to remain in strife
Where is the light that lived within
Penned on 26/08/2013 using
Form : Quatern by
Seren Roberts and Wayland Bunch
Contest : Team Work
Categories:
wayland, hope, love,
Form:
Quatern
A tomato and a potato lived in a fridge
And a bunch of other foods lived in their midst
Tomato and potato ruled this place
And all the foods lived in grace.
Of course until all the eggs were beaten
And fried and seasoned and served and eaten
For the eggs were royal guards
Until their shells were smashed into shards
But other than that life was pretty well
But one day the evil Yam cast a spell
A deadly disease that made you grow old,
It was called “The Terrible Mold”
All the bread started to turn white,
And most of the berries were missing a bite,
Mr. Swiss and his wife turned to darker blue,
And so did Cheddar and Gouda too!
Broccoli’s buds started falling down
And Tomato and Potato were nowhere to be found!
Lettuces leaves were coming down fast
And many spinaches lives were passed,
All the meats were freaking out
Like the fish, the Bass, and the fresh trout
And the steak, the chicken, and barbeque duck
But they had tried and tested their luck
They sat in their drawer from April to May
Trying to find out if they could save the day.
They acted as nurses, they acted as a friend
And surprisingly not many lives came to an end,
And when the meats finally saved the day,
They remember that Witch Yam had a price to pay
They defeated her and the rulers came back later
And it turned out they were in another refrigerator!
All the foods kicked them out of the place
And from that day on they lived in grace.
By-Ellie Wayland
Age-10 years
Categories:
wayland, food, kids,
Form:
Days and days have passed no new introspection
Nothing to search for, the clock moves so slow
Looking into my eyes reveals an empty reflection
At times anger coursed through me like an infection
Guilt turned to blame and like a cancer it did grow
Days and days have passed no new instropection
The reasons why not found, I search every direction
Such powerful emotion and feeling, I had to let go
Looking into my eyes reveals an empty reflection
Hearing words like these you raised your objection
Over the time I know my patience has been low
Days and days have passed now new introspection
Facing the fading will of time there is no protection
Patience from above required, sadly I live here below
Looking into my eyes reveals an empty reflection
A new foundation in the midst, awaiting ********
Imprisoned by uncertainty, emotion cannot flow
Days and days have passed no new introspection
Looking into my eyes reveals an empty reflection
Written By Wayland Bunch II on 1/6/2014
Inspired by Love will tear us apart by Joy Division
Lyrics below from lyricsmode.com
Love Will Tear us Apart-Joy Division
When routine bites hard,
And ambitions are low.
And resentment rides high,
But emotions won't grow.
And we're changing our ways,
Taking different roads.
Then love,
Love will tear us apart again...
Love,
Love will tear us apart again...
And love,
Love will tear us apart again...
Love,
Love will tear us apart again...
Why is the bedroom so cold?
You've turned away on your side.
Is my timing that flawed?
Our respect runs so dry.
Yet there's still this appeal,
That we've kept through our lives.
Then love,
Love will tear us apart again...
Love,
Love will tear us apart again...
And love,
Love will tear us apart again...
Love,
Love will tear us apart again...
You cry out in your sleep,
All my feelings exposed
And there's a taste in my mouth,
As desperation takes hold.
Is it something so good,
Just can't function no more.
Then love,
Love will tear us apart again...
Love,
Love will tear us apart again...
And love,
Love will tear us apart again...
Love,
Love will tear us apart again...
Categories:
wayland, lost love,
Form:
Villanelle
Walk with pride, with your head held high
Conflict and war is not your fault
Face turns away whilst tears you cry.
You can't understand this, who knows why,
When will all these emotions finally halt
Walk with pride, with your head held high
You were called to fight to kill or die
Highly trained killer with senses taut
Face turns away whilst tears you cry
No moral standard on which you can rely
You're own conscience now begins its assault
Walk with pride with your head held high
Time for your memories to heal that’s why
You need a guilt free mind no more bad thoughts
Face turns away whilst tears you cry
A certain sense of pride you cannot deny
Your own existence you begin to exalt
Walk with pride, with your head held high
Face turns away whilst tears you cry.
Penned by Wayland Bunch and Seren Roberts on 5 April 2014
Categories:
wayland, conflict, confusion,
Form:
Villanelle
Her name is Seren
Yes the proud welsh girl, not foe, hopefully a fren
The number of contest she entered, maybe a million
On a scale of 1 to 10, I’d give her a billion
She has passionately stated her favorite color is green
She talked about more shades than I think I’ve seen
My vision isn’t great, but good thing I’m not color blind too
Then I’d be like those Greeks, with one word for green and blue
She also has a pooch named Tilly
If that’s a variation of Teal then she’s green silly
Maybe instead of silly I better choose a synonym
Lest emerald becomes jade and I sing a new hymn
Yes of PD, I could write clerihews day and night
However, whatever I may or might write, it’s never in spite
She loves alliteration, writing recklessly reaping rich reward
Of ailing alliteration, I’m alienated, not even a steady steward
I think my friend PD thinks I’m the meanie
With my clerihew about seeds, I think she dubbed me weenie
I am sorry Linda, I was going to remove it from the site
But too many others found some delight
Last but not least ThePhilosopher, yeah that’s me
The one that always seems to be lost at sea
You would think either past or present I was a sailor
However on life’s quest I’ve been quite the delayer
My name is Wayland, no not the first nor the third
I am the second and sometimes I mention a bird
Speaking of the bird, I look at the top 100 poems list
And obviously there is something that I missed
When I speak of the top 100’s list, I mean for two weeks
Some post almost two hundred, yes 200, they aren’t meek
I wonder how it’s possible and then I read their verse
Many times I’m often left to curse
But since when did ThePhilosopher, become the judger of prose
His clerihews always talking about these, thou, and those
I should change my name to King James
But my buddy is already King of the Quatrains
Oh yes My buddy Jack will be the last
The subjects he writes about are vast
Too many to remember with all his pretty words
When I think of his poems I don’t think of birds
I recently read his poem titled bums unite
He said he gave them money at times, it probably felt right
He said someday they may even get a ten spot
If someone gives me a ten spot, then I’m yelling JACKPOT!
*these are always done if fun, hahaha another random rhyme
Categories:
wayland, funny, green, may, me,
Form:
Clerihew
Jack Ellison wasn't from Nantucket
I read prose that his cleaning lady had a nice bucket
But he vowed to look in silence quite as a mouse
For fear of sleeping in the perpetual doghouse
PD, appears and disappears like whoodini
I have seen the poems where she's a meanie
She also wrote about trading seeds for a donkey
She could have just as easily traded seeds for her monkey
Thephilosopher, what a silly nick indeed
He would trade if he only had a seed
A good monkey he could certainly use
Or would the ass he choose?
I would write about a Star I once knew
But from sight has she flew
Entering contest after contest without fail
A questionable close here could lead to hell
Wayland Bunch mentioned afore
He often rambles and can bore
His idea of humor often misconstrued
If he were a famous writer he'd be sued
There is a poet here named gigno
What is up with him though
Commenting with three exclamations
Does he think they equal explanations?
The Gaijin, clerihew after clerihew he did write
He gave up being Haijin, mostly out of spite
Who wants to write only three lines of poetry, he mopes
Haikus are for dopes (haha, that one should draw some attention)
He's called NietzscheThePhilosipher on Mocospace
Beware moco is a dirty dirty place
He went there often just to chat
But found out that perversion was the welcome mat
The boy from Texas wasn't scared though
He heard much worse, although he says it aint so
One time or two he wrote a clerihew
Becareful lest the next clerihew be about you
He read Jack's quatrains almost everday
They were medicine to the soul he would say
Maybe vodka to the inhibitions explains it best
If not, he'll just drink the vodka and forget the rest
I think I should mention Linda once more
I won't even write what you think, I don't need the war
I live by peace for all, that's the key
What happens if this last line contains piece and monkey (hahahaha)
Categories:
wayland, funny, write, write,
Form:
Clerihew
Flowers of love
Looking sweet and smell pretty
Giving life to all
Lovely Humming Bird
Sings a love song to the soul
Empty hearts renewed
Passion projected
Valentines now on the brink
Why only today?
Poems by Wayland bunch written 1/29/13 10:06pm Ok these are the revisions of my Haiku that have nature references
Categories:
wayland, love,
Form:
Haiku
Have I looked upon the darkest hour
Cluelessly cleansing, experience dire
Renewed regret, taste of the flower
Cunning clever concoctions, now sour
Triggering a transformation by fire
Have I looked upon the darkest hour
With witty wings I flew, now I cower
Restless reasoning, ready to inquire
Renewed regret, taste of the flower
Tantalizing temptation takes power
Honestly only one thing that I desire
Have I looked upon my darkest hour
Written rhythm and rhyme I scour
Savvy sayings of saints, I don't tire
Renewed regret, taste of the flower
A blundering bluntness as I devour
Wicked witchcraft have I called sire
Have I looked upon the darkest hour
Renewed regret, taste of the flower
Penned 2/5/2013 by Wayland Bunch II
did this on phone so harder to see errors, which after checking barely today 2/13/13 were a lot lol, thanks guys for not mentioning them lol.
Categories:
wayland, dark, introspection,
Form:
Villanelle
Of the laurel tree your name is derived
Honor and victory are contained therein
Complete happiness has been deprived
Your victory, where is it, and also when
Patience, all good things to those in wait
Suffering like everything else must fade
Compassion is definitely your great trait
In the calm waters of kindness you wade
Lorena, your dedication was long overdue
A great friend, and inspiration you provide
Sympathy and motivation ringing through
Leaving an eternal bond I feel deep inside
Although many have the capacity to be-friend
You're a special person, now and until the end
By Wayland Bunch
Happy Birthday Lori, poem belated but I hope you had
a great birthday.. Thanks for always listening and being
patient and unselfish in your tough times. You're a great
friend I'm.lucky to have.
Categories:
wayland, birthday
Form:
Sonnet
The eve of Christmas a day I won’t soon forget
It was the day we celebrated yes I do remember
The family came together for you with no regret
Recalling a child, spying around, found a train set
I would start to feel the excitement in November
The eve of Christmas a day I won’t soon forget
Someone hurries to buy a last gift in a Corvette
Another sad to celebrate, a gift they can’t render
The family came together for you with no regret
The rest of the holiday, I’ll change my mindset
Going to show some real spirit, not be a pretender
The eve of Christmas a day I won’t soon forget
If there is anyone, it’s to you that I am in debt
Lil sweet lady, no you were powerful yet slender
The family came together for you with no regret
So far from that magical time I’m a dark silhouette
But my cold hard heart starts to melt in December
The eve of Christmas a day I won’t soon forget
You taught me about Holiday spirit, with no regret
Written by me Wayland Bunch II on 12/10/2013 for Happy Holidays contest in
memory of my grandmother. I changed the last line, felt forced to change it, but will
still categorize this poem as a Villanelle. I could have easily repeated the closing line
again, or could have called it free verse, but neither would have done justice to
the message or the form, because I used the power of the repetition, provided by the
form, throughout.
Categories:
wayland, celebration, christmas, grandmother, holiday,
Form:
Villanelle