Jesus here invites His disciples to travel
right across the other side of the sea
in a fishing boat where a storm arose
this was a great storm, as the disciples agreed
The waves were filling the boat
Jesus' disciples were showing great fear
even accusing Jesus of not caring
for the Lord was asleep, as if He didn't hear
Jesus awoke and questioned their lack of faith
then He spoke to the sea, " Peace, be still"
the wind ceased, bringing great calm
showing Jesus ruled over storms, so brill
Now today Jesus has this same control
whatever storm you are having to face
He can intervene in your life
calming your storm by His grace
Do you have faith to believe He can?
be not like the disciples who were afraid
believe in the Lord Jesus and His love
for He died for your sins, the price He paid
Boundary rope trope it's the hope that kills
Fatality of the banality of all Bazball’s frills
Hilarity of baggie greens nationwide thrills
Beer swills spills hosts dreams full to the gills
Totality of the brutality still gives me the chills
Stokes not chipper has to swallow a bitter pill
Can't fallow our ripper skipper’s skill & iron will
Our leader will wallow in the shrill media mill
His men shi*ter…hollow can't follow Ben's drill
Callow not brill..of shallow Bazball had our fill
Hallow the Wizards of Oz are still top of the bill
The country alive cheering let's go in for the kill
Begin fearing the din of sneering & jeering 5 nil
untitled poem
by Javascript
The future is lying 6fit beneath me
I have learnt to morn people while they are still
Alive .as dreams fads into the echoes of our nightmare.
But we still clench the hopes of our tomorrow on our fist and now our hands hold nothing but hopeless dreams
As ashes become the reality of our burnt dreams
As we smock away our dreams
Now the stench of the cigarette smile
Chocks our breath away
Leaving everything but burnt dreams behind
You see my reality is a venom whisper
I want to spite out
Before it kills me.
But someone is holding my
Mouth with a clenched fist
This reality is one were you cant pitch
Awake from.
Branded on our skin like a brill text .
I dont speak from the past
I speak from the present tense.
written by Owen thepoet @Javascript thepoet
I began playing this game with myself
So at any moment you are holding something
How would you kill an intruder
I mean some of them are obvious
Throw the tea then use the cups like enamel
knuckle dusters
Deodorant like a spray
Handy flame thrower if you have a lighter in your hand
Toothpaste takes some thought but if you can squeeze it onto your hands and go for the eyes
Hairdryer and plug
Like a pair of Noon
Chucking blades as I charge towards them
Sometimes good to share
Pen would get the wickedness treatment
Spooning eyes out on stalks
Balloons depends on what they are filled with
Tell them
I will
Not one psychopath in here
There is definitely more than
Took me eons to work out
Mainly tricks in may
A brill
I ant ain’t an auntie
Started working on scenarios on stairs in water
Has anyone ever been xylophoned to death
Summertime, summertime, summertime bop
Come why not to the summertime hop
Movin’ n’ groovin’ dancers everywhere
Wearing flowers in their hair.
Summertime, summertime, summertime bop
Boppin’ around the clock till one drops
Swingin’ and swayin’ havin’ a great time
Until midnight chimes.
For young hearts it’s a brill time
To bop away all day
Summertime’s a dreamtime
For gathering friends along the way.
Boy meets girl and girl meets boy
As billowin’ breeze blows
Romance fills the air
As the summertime flows.
On your feet, to the beat, dance in the street
Give it all you have got
Rotate those hips, do the jive and the twist
Maybe try a fox trot.
For that’s summertime
Yes that’s summertime
That’s the summertime bop.
My dearest wife, you are my chief, you guide with natural ease,
You’re wonderful to live with, and you always aim to please.
What can I say? You’re brill, you’re fab, you are my guiding star,
However, I must admit, I’m a better chef by far.
My dearest wife, my glamorous assistant who sparkles all the time,
We’ll enjoy a drink tonight – gin for you and I’ll be on the wine.
You brighten up my day, you always make me smile,
Being married to you makes life even more worthwhile.
My dearest wife, I’m the joker in the pack, and you are certainly the ace,
I drive you so mad at times, you’ll want to slap my face.
We never go on a date night because we’re always skint,
I’m happy regardless as being with you is mint.
The steep steps go down
the winding wash,
along the plodded cobbles
between the cottages
with their smuggling hollows,
their sleet rinsed eaves.
Beyond the scarp
the bay tumbles over
shingle, shale, and scree
to a shore and its contesting tide.
Above my flying coat,
the huddled village
bobs and floats in a flooding cloud.
I could throw a stick
at the sea here
and the wind, like a dog
would fetch it,
elemental voices
return from the deep.
Now a chopping fray,
squabbles at a brim where
flurries of tern and guillemot
trawl for brill;
a pell-mell of light
roiling on a harrying spray.
Today, I allow myself to fail
here at the surging squall,
and crashing crests;
to lapse and founder -
to be redone in the one gulp
of self.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This one was written a pretty long time ago,
but recently fiddled with.
A hip old-timer in Bowling Green
somehow thinks he’s still seventeen
His hair’s Brill Cream slick
He thinks Gidget’s his chic
And he’s sure he’s the next James Dean
2/10/22
Milanese artist Lomazzo,the theorist*
was also an idealist
He claimed a shroud was the Lord's face
&thus a divine self-portrait thereon, was traced
*https://brill.com/view/title/36088?language=en(&chapter six of Giovan Paolo Lomazzo's Idea of the Temple of Painting (1590), )
“Gaun an bile yer heid” he bawled oot,
As he stood in the middle o the cobbled street.
Tae nae yin in particular.
Did he vent his anger.
Fu as a whaulk he staggered and swayed
Wan pin rooted tae the graun,
Ither yin moved like a dervish,
Gaun naewhaur fast.
He should of been hame
Wi his wifie and weans
But naw he insisted
Wi a wee refreshment wi his pals.
Jist a hauf an a hauf an a wee blether
Pittin the world tae rights.
But man the craik was brill that nicht
Whit a pity it ended in a fecht.
Nothing though like the fecht
He wid huv when at home.
His wifie stood livid at the door
Tears a dripping ontae the floor
Weans moaning and bawling
Nae dinner again old mans supping fu.
Setterday nicht in Glasga toon
Lying sprawled an fu unner the moon,
©Andrew P McIntyre 2015-05-28.
I was floating on water deep under the sea
Cold sun rays shone down I felt hot and quivery
A mermaid walked by with different sized legs
The battered dressed cod showed off his new kegs.
A bald octopus so furry, you could not see its eyes
The catfish all gathered and barked in surprise
The crabs running frantic sat perfectly still
Whales groaning their songs, laughed it was brill.
I started to feel well so went to the doctor
His name Davy Jones at top down at the locker
He told me I was dead; I felt so alive
We danced in the moonlight that morning at five.
Written 10th September 2021
For The Nonsense Rhyme Poetry Contest
Sponsored By Charles Messini
Sometimes its like explaining the rules to the thickie twins
here is some foil look at the shiny shiny
if you were really good at being an ant would you be brill-iant
are bees being bees -beeing bees
why aren't there lakegulls
if you killed a group of crows would you have murdered a murder
was the first penguin a penbegin
do you think the anchariid saw Miss Muffat before they sat beside her
maybe spied her from a distance
is a fly without wings a walk
Please encourage my clear cut enthusiastic imagination station
Where my eye glasses appear and disappear with her own adulation
Turtle with zing is giving a ride to antique phone with a brill ring.
Zebra puppy rest is right up there in my nest, doing her own thing.
Birds are trying to climb into our rhyme, which adds to the confusion.
If you decide to visit our brain, just know this is not a mere illusion.
We take imagination seriously, it is our clear cut approved vocation.
It helps to be a bit insane to visit our imagination station.
First Time Limericks
I tried but couldn't write a limerick
So reckoned to be just very thick
I thunked ever so hard
Got myself into a mard
And looks like it may done the trick
I think I may be on a new roll
Brain cells have started to grow
Though my head hurts like hell
Every line rings a cheer bell
And my nose has just started to glow
My limericks may not be that good
Or give any people a laugh hoot
But practise I will
Don't expect to be brill
Now off to write one about Groot
WOO! HOO!
09.10.20
B-irthday
R-egards
I-n
L-iterary
L-ines
C-ause
R-apture
U-sing
Z-est
Topic: Birthday of Brill Cruz (March 16)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
Sub Categories
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