Angels ramble through fire like lilies in blaze,
Blaze defeating their nimbuses like traitors of shame,
Shame grips to their wings like smolder in the air,
Air weighty as distress, yet they upsurge in prayer.
Prayer cascades in the night like stars into darkness,
Darkness cloaks them like manacles, yet they sparkle with nimble,
Nimble delicate as glass in an oven of deceits,
Deceits blister all around them, still blimey persists.
Such is a societal life of a good man
Man living the toxicity of his woman at home
Home supposed to be his heaven.
Poem by Mugisho N.
crippled
and zany
wand of my life
keeps me alive, blimey
and blessed
Borrowed Words: Delay Tactics
Today was not a great day
It started with ominous thought
The task that I've been dreading
I'm heading to face it today
Yesterday, I kept busy
Distraction the name of my game
I didn't have time to reflect
Deflecting the fact yesterday
Today I'm snappy and harsh
My moods are descending like rain
They whisper blimey, he's festering
He's wrestling demons today
Yesterday I acted in haste
If I'd acted with thought instead
I'd have done with it, felt relief
The thief of my peace yesterday
Today in the foulest of fury
I forced myself into the open
I cut the cord, did the deed
I succeeded, relax, today
Yet despite all of my regret
‘Isn’t it nice to think,
that tomorrow is a new day
with no mistakes in it yet’
I have to go pee you see and my bladder is oh so tiny
so won't you please hurry, no don't show your hiney
one leg up
on leg down
go ahead leak, then get out of my way, ... Oh Blimey!
Gone digital
begun/beginning
Networking with me-self
Can't find a full-stop
to stop
What yer looking at fish-face???
Yer know
since yesterday
I can't find me thumbs
falling feet first
in-ter sub-monkey skills
I need more,
more white widgets
and black toggles-
got the wobbles, a bit keyed-up
Mind knitting its own computer
flashes of clever clogs,
clumps of soft-drive
in me ear-holes
got no cookies cooking
just a blinking memory
Dot-dash-board doodling,
screening plasma for bugs
and sneezy-bits.
Me lights are ticking
think I'm thinking
Blimey, will you look at that!
I got a virtual nose to pick
feeling sick of it
even though
me lid is plastic
Beep...
In his weary hour
The legumes blossom on time;
Out of jocundity in honour
Of the beautiful turf
The drowsy peasant peak.
His weird blistered palm blimey,
His nasty regalia wretched,
He produces plenty and eats small
He produces good and eats bad
To the nobles he worked,
The dark noxious pest
Ravage and wrest
The peasant-shaddock
This tonic the dressy peasant
A nocturnal haunter.
This extempore task
Demoralizes his sinew
His swansong
Rhythmically envelops
In serenity and drone.
Each rising smoke
Nervous him to move.
This previous eyes
That know no peace
By the smiling scorching sun.
At the dark hour
He puts on his clogs
And marched to the farm shack
There he finds the beetles
On the yam.
The great anxiety of the peasant
Is the bragging fire of winter
He fasted to lull it
He became gaunt
The sturdy peasant.
The time unknown: the blazing fire
Burnt the bedecked bower
The ranch house and the lettuce
Barefooted staggered him
To the farm with his straw hat
And met the yelling ashes
The cracking twigs of cocoa plant
The peasant live no day
Longer than that and slept
I remember it well that October night
Meteors aligned tipped like candelabra lights
I'm sitting in my outhouse under a hakka lantern
Yea, in Guangxi Province, pending storm concerns
Kinda spooky feeling magnetic electric zipping
Need to lay of the 'Jacks' feels like I'm tripping
It's like a potion to me, it brings me to likes edge
Thankfully the 'Moor' in me, saves me from the ledge
Wow, crash boom bang, thunder clap new, mun!
Blimey, bloody broom noisy, just like my neighbour
Erratic lightning laylines break open Eastern skies
Suddenly a shadow in the corner, and I ff'ing swore!
My legs aren't even moving but this misty fog lures I
Bleary eyes focusing at, at, this Succubus, she
On the Radio 'Wake me I am dreaming' by the 'Love Affair'
Minds guising disguising, just what is 'Jacks' streaming
I awake in the morn, wondering what went the night before
Elves, Goblins, Fairies or could it be the Jinn Genie!
Blimey if I was worth my weight in salt, I'd go to church
But if I told this story when younger, I'd sure have got the birch.
We were at a children's party
He told me about his ukulele
When he played in front of audiences
People would shout out, "Did it shrink?"
He worked as a chemistry teacher
To get this going he explained
A study he did with his students
In primary school
The comparative neuroanatomy and
Neurochemistry of zebrafish CNS systems of
Relevance to human neuropsychiatric diseases
Despite differences in the development of the telencephaion
I said, "Blimey"
He said "Yeah"
We high-fived and grabbed another beer
As he walked to the kitchen
I high-fived myself
I fist-bumped a Minion stuffed toy
Sat on the sofa
I was pleased with my mental well-being
Fair to ing middlin!
Tuesday night shepherds pie?
2nd best.
Hornet's nest.
Honest apple?
In your eye.
Whenever I’m able I raid the bird table
I snap up some mealworms and go
The nearby house owner a bad tempered moaner
Berates me because I’m a crow
That snotty Rob Robin just sits there bob bobbing
And snaffles as much as he can
He’d better stop soon he’s the size of the moon
But this doesn't bother the man
Those flashy goldfinches are only five inches
But make a cacophonous sound
Like lambs to the slaughter they come down for water
But I’ve called the sparrow-hawk round
But hey what’s point of a crow having brains
If not to get ill gotten gains
Raiding that fella’s bird table is fun
Caw blimey... he’s got a big gun!
24 May 2021
Contest: Personification poem 150
Sponsor: Caren Krutsinger
Donald Trump - bankrupt with no sense -
Now blames everything on Pence
Trump looted our vault
But its not his fault
That everyone else is so dense!
I dunno who decided that cheese should have resided
With bits of pineapple upon a stick
I’d have hit him with a truncheon when he said a pickled onion
Would top it off: I fear he was quite sick
But here I stand with Marty, at this arty farty party
He’s eyeing up a new potential date
In truth, she’s bloody pretty, but, blimey, it’s a pity
Pineapple, cheese and onion on her plate
When a kiss tastes of cheese, it ain’t gonna please
And onion breath means instant death
To hopes of romance at the valentine’s dance
And yet she says Hi, my names Beth
They head for the floor where they do little more
Than latch onto each other’s face
So I stand here jealous, was I over zealous
When I chose to have the fish paste
My dad’s dancing dirty, the girl’s about thirty
Looks like they’re gonna be smooching till late
I check out their table as best as I am able
Onion, pineapple and cheese on her plate
So it seems that a party snack, pungent or squiffy
Does not preclude romance from you
If it stinks like cow splatter, it just doesn’t matter
So long as you’ve eaten It too
24 December 2020
Contest: Party Folk
Sponsor: Julia Ward
ghost waiter blimey bondo
a haunting in a condo
rushed in a flurry
and pot of curry
hope sir you like potato.
In the post I received some seeds
Now planted, I've done the deed
In a few weeks they did grow
Blimey they ain't very slow
They're now as tall as some reeds
They now have me a little concerned
Impressed in bloom they've now earned
But what's that sweet smell
It sure ain't no Bluebell
All previous is totally adjourned
Sunshine all day, has the world gone mad
Blimey it's Canada, where summer's a fad
Four months long
Seems like two then gone
Aside from that, the best since I was a lad
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.