Arise oh ye silent pen
And Torment me no more
Rendering my tender heart sore
with empty thought
all for nought
My crania is my own and can't
be bought
With trivial words
From dimensions absurd
For only I know how the gift is heard
And its never pressured or forced
And flows effortlessly its course
From its Holy Courts
To waiting Page
Where the message uncaged
Finally renders me a humble Sage.
Categories:
crania, inspiration,
Form: Free verse
Once knew a lady from Messypotamia
Was known for her serious nymphomania
Attacked even seniors
Causing them seizures
Giggling as they fell cracking their crania
Categories:
crania, fun, hilarious,
Form: Limerick
Once knew a lady from Messypatamia
Was known for her serious nymphomania
Attacked even seniors
Causing them seizures
Giggling as they fell down cracking their crania
Categories:
crania, silly,
Form: Limerick
Have you heard of Thomas from Tasmania
Suffered from a severe case of egomania
The cat's meow
Described him and how
Case was, he was only a hero in his own crania
© Jack Ellison 2015
Categories:
crania, silly,
Form: Limerick
There was the sudden stench of silence that fell upon the street.
The congregate of people looking on in disbelief.
Trying to gain a view in a manner yet discrete,
observing the excavation of his apartment in feigned grief.
The noises that they heard in the nights, but collectively ignored.
The rank smells of miasma that crept from underneath the door.
Now what was merely paranoia has turned to fearsome fact.
As the investigation continually reveals his gruesome past.
The refrigerator units that stored condiments and human crania.
The skeletal relics unearthed, his gallery of paraphilia
The large blue barrels in which several bodies had been dissolved.
So many questions here still linger and none may be resolved,
and he may never be absolved for the hunger that he fed.
And they will never face another night without him in their heads
Categories:
crania, community, crazy, death, gothic,
Form: Lyric
The poet awakes, restless, unable to sleep
The calling beckons, though tired and weak
Feverishly struggling to make sense of the gift
Scanning the crania for precious words to sift
Ink throbs in the quill waiting to press into page
Somewhere deep in the soul emerges poetic rage
Wisdom and message collide into harmonious rhyme
Hours vanish quickly, theres no care for time
Patience rewards, a new creation is spawned
The poet is spent, a new day has dawned
Categories:
crania, appreciation, art,
Form: Rhyme
Heads ache from here to Tazmania.
It’s the economic condition –
Politicians lack contrition.
Tax-mania affects the crania.
Ó November 17, 2011
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
Categories:
crania, funny, social,
Form: Enclosed Rhyme