Her craft had a sizzle and spark,
Lighting up to cook after dark.
So his brainpan swam,
“That’s one succulent clam!”
A morsel, just right for the shark.
Categories:
brainpan, food, proposal, sensual, sexy,
Form: Limerick
Do you suppose the monkey knows?
He has ten fingers and ten toes.
He has a brain inside his cranium,
If you ask me, that ain't so dumb.
Do you suppose the monkey knows?
Merry Christmas from Monkeyland,
from ten fingers on two hands.
In addition to all those,
Season's Greetings from ten toes.
Have a New Year, hearty and hale
from my prehensile tail...
.... .... ....
Happy New Year's from my smart brain,
which my brainpan doth contain.
That, my friend, is just a start.
I wish you love from my four-chambered heart.
Do you suppose the monkey knows
He's not wearing any clothes?
Categories:
brainpan, animal,
Form: Rhyme
That neighbour has just banged his door.
Again yet again and yet again.
I, a one of superior quality, wish to beat
his barking bonce against the wall of his rathole.
But there’d be no grey matter
to dribble down the concrete.
An ugly slimy mush would not be excreted
from that crumbly, crinkly, brainless brainpan.
No brainbox there to squirt the grey stuff!
Oh, what do I experience?
A swirly-whirly precognition of a pleasurable
banging of that brain that isn’t there?
Do I not wish to tear it into shreds?
Funny how feral thoughts burst into one’s mind.
Again yet again and yet again, this superior
wants to beat and bounce that barking bonce.
(17 Sep 2024)
Categories:
brainpan, break up, discrimination, me,
Form: Free verse
I slumbered, nestled in the bed,
trapped in a horror, steeped in dread.
I’d had that awful dream again;
long tendrils probed inside my brain.
They’d severed my umbilic cord,
and left a dead, unfeeling gourd.
My matter splashed, my brainpan scooped,
and now a magic marker looped
in creepy patterns on my skin:
cruel eyes, slit nose, a horrid grin.
But worse, I saw the glint of steel,
and winced at how that blade would feel.
I could not scream, nor could I shout;
although I tried, no sound came out.
Whew! Two firm hands shook me awake,
then, “Mom, this is the one I’ll take.”
————-
for the 12-16 Lines of a Scary Halloween Rhyme Poetry Contest
sponsored by Tania Kitchin
written on 10/13/22
Categories:
brainpan, halloween, scary,
Form: Rhyme
Oh, poetry! Once summoned from the hell,
your ghost refused to leave. I can’t expel
the sweetest demon who possessed my mind,
my heart, my soul, my daily things, my rhymed
insomnia, my quill and my inkwell.
In time, I put up with the mademoiselle
who settled in my brainpan, but, to tell
the truth, I miss the times I left behind,
oh, poetry.
Nor charm, no chant, no hex, no magic spell,
a grocery, a loyal clientele,
everyday words for which I must not find
a rhyme, a rhythm, a form and all this kind
of things… And no qualms, if I misspell.
Oh, poetry!
7/19/2019
Rondeau Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: charles messina
P.S.: I know it's not a tetrameter, required by the contest, but let it be my tribute to a such devilishly difficult genre like rondeau)
Categories:
brainpan, poetry,
Form: Rondeau
Once in a while my brainpan looks alike
a hackney carriage full of hackneyed clichés
and tired words. In times like this, my psych
advised the psycho to unharness wishes,
to burn the carriage down, to make love
to the imaginary charioteer
and, having smoothly closed the above
gestalt, to go for a walk. Oh, dear,
how silent and empty are the streets!
My head is silent and empty either.
This emptiness miraculously treats
a writer’s block. I feel how formless ether
morphs into words again to give a birth
to the entire world and this small verse.
Categories:
brainpan, creation, inspiration, poetry,
Form: Sonnet