It is a daunting task they ask of me,
Brittle as I am,
A lovely mustard color,
Flitting in the autumn breeze,
Like some Marilyn Monroe of leaves.
They expect me to jump.
The one's that haven't jumped yet.
I've seen they others that have jumped.
Once they hit the ground
They just flop about at best.
Not a good look!
Okay, okay I'm going!
My destiny, they say it is.
There are theories of an updraft.
Shoot you up to higher branch-CHAS!
It happened. I'm falling. Like a leaf.
Cuz I am one.
Oof! Great now I'll flop about like the rest.
This is humiliat-oh here comes a worm
Sliding up my stem in a real
Don't mind if I do manner.
Trying to burrow through
Mmmm--now I get it.
We're all connected.
It's all connected.
I'm not just me.
I'm the whole planet.
What a funny time to learn.
Call me Joe
I do not take pleasure in seeing the Joe Bidden
in the throes of senility, those who pushed him
into running, knew he was not sharp
he was always the company man
did their work
From what I know about this man
"Call Me Joe" was about a nasty man who
suffered low grades at school, but he had
the cunning of fools voting for those
who could make his life better
Tus he rise in power as a man to
be rusted
and we know what that entails
AI did trust him implicitly, owned them
many favors I blame Obama, who
who joined the have classes as soon as he could
with swimming pools and dubious sex
he also bears a unified hatred of the white
a shade lighter, damn it.
The elite of the USA are pushing America
into a war where working people will die
fighting perceived freedom while they
luxuriate in the Bahamas
We have a man, a Vulgarian, and as
Chas Freeman said about hi, the clock is
right, this might be his moment of truth
As for Joe Biden, only Israel might mourn
his passing
We're mailing Purim cards w Latino Food stamps, hence this poem will accompany:
Purim Amp Stamp!
Note the Stamps?
"Not chosen, Just Hurled"?,
Au contraire, They're Lamps,
Hot Tamales Unfurled,
Latino Spirit, Un-cramped,
Eruv Cha-Chas Whirled,
Courtesy, the House of Ramps,
Marano Purim: A Hidden World,
Andale! Andale! Ay Caramba Amps!
Freilichin Purim!!!
(Note: I'm handicapped, hence "The House of Ramps")
Some poems are lively like Macarena, fast hokey-pokey or watusi.
Others make you laugh like the Texas two-step, or hokey pokey, so cutesy.
Detailed poets can creative a missive that cha-cha-chas or jitterbugs.
Big rule followers maybe cringe when they read some that mugs.
Many seem as familiar to this Iowa girl as a barn, line, or square dance.
Others are hot as mambo, rumba, taking an unexpected heart-leaping chance.
Some are as proper as a minuet or fox trot, maybe even a prissy stuck-up waltz.
Hiding true feelings, honesty, and the writer’s variety of unshared, secret faults.
Yes, poetry is like any other kind of art, when you get it alone, and to yourself.
Some delight our souls, and make us dance, others sit forever high upon a shelf.
Many times I think “I wish I had thought of that!” when I read a wonderful poem.
To me, poetry has a rhythm, a cadence, and always, and forever a unique dance of her own.
Kristina
Passionate, Honest, Positive, and Intuitive
Sister of Chas Sister And a Half of Nelson
Lover of Nature, Peace and Lessons
Who Feels Lonely, Curious and Limited
Who Fears Failure, Trust and Love
Who would like to see Change, Travel and a Life
Resident of Vandenberg Village, CA
Whitmore
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.