Stop pulling your mischievous high jinks - currently, the wind of change stinks
Winds of change are not always good - they can be grossly misunderstood
Winds of change are just blowing smoke - spouted by a deluded bloke
Don’t believe a word from Blog bullies and blowhards - they won't change their ways
PS encourages creativity – poets CAN post ten per day
I got fed up of snide little digs about people who write poop poems
I am not stuck for turds - I'm saving my witty words for my next book
Bistro blowhards jump around in Johnny time
Bota bing bota bang Bota bang bota bing.
Dendrites are clicking, where did they get teeth?
Who invited them anyway? Gray matter coughs.
Fishnet stockings fairly frolic along my brain highway.
My soul shuts herself off, not wanting involvement.
I am on pizazz power; polka dotted persimmon pot pie.
No one better ask me anything or even give me a look.
What’s happening? My eyes wonder. They are on fire.
My throat is tight, wearing a girdle of ridiculousness.
I keep my mouth in a straight line, figuring out nothing.
Sharing no secrets or ideas, closing down for self-protection.
My dear Miss Peach how lovely!
Your table boasts so fair
You've chosen the finest bubbly
Best porcelain plates and crystal ware
Your handpicked guests are perfect
They know just what to say
They are prefects without defects
With no real opinions per se
Your parties are full of boasting
With braggarts, blowhards and egos
Pomposity excels in what they are toasting
Meaningless, pointless placebos
So Miss Peach I beg you not be stilted
Or try in your best elegance to change
What manner you provide is boring and gilded
And matters not to bourgeois talk wearisomely deranged
October 20, 2020
Completely Your Choice (30) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand
Yo, ho, snow does flow....
A rising puff of Santa.
Winds of methane blow.
Typical Jovian banter.
A rising puff of Santa.
Trading frozen diamond rain.
Typical Jovian banter.
Saturn rings but does not feign.
Trading frozen diamond rain.
Gaseous blowhards tilt and sway.
Saturn rings but does not feign.
Mars turns red; Earth blues play.
Gaseous blowhards tilt and sway,
Catching killer planetoids.
Mars turns red; Earth blues play.
What luck to be not void.
Catching killer planetoids.
Venus chokes; Mercury burns.
What luck to be not void.
On Martian dust our future turns.
Venus chokes; Mercury burns;
Winds of methane blow.
On Martian dust our future turns.
Yo, ho, snow does flow....