Chubby patriot clown spun like a top.
I wish he would stop! I wish he would stop!
Why doesn’t he drop? Why doesn’t he drop?
This was said by my lazy uncle Cyclop.
He’s doing okay, grandma interjected.
She knew Uncle Cy was stuck up and affected.
Chubby patriot clown showed off his red, white and blue.
If you were a clown, wouldn’t you too?
Categories:
cyclop, 3rd grade, 4th grade,
Form: Rhyme
LOVE’S UNKNOWN
From the Labyrinth
Love’s been great struck Daedalus
To that day on forward
No one could ever know
You are his love.
Even unto Greek mythology
And from nowhere to cyber space you shall come!
In local mythology
You are dealt once more
Captured that neither a cyclops with a big eye
Can take and rupture you
For this moment you are mine
The pulchritude God has given you retained
Yes, you are Daedalus in love to me now and forever.
Terms:
Daedalus: Mythical Greek Architect and Sculpture
Cyclop: Giant with one big eye in the middle of the forehead
Labyrinth: A winding passages believed to have been created by Daedalus for King
Minos
Categories:
cyclop, love
Form: Free verse
Appears a ghostly vision, fog in from the sea.
As if sentient in movement, shrouds all in it's mystique.
With a cyclop eye, lighthouse lends a mournful wail.
While specters breath dampens all, your marrow the chill impales.
Out of sight, crashing waves, sound loud as if they crawl,
following the living mist, as it breaches the seawall.
Seeping round panes and doors, into every crevice.
The very air liquefied, a grey oppressive presence.
Wood smoke blends it's flavor, to the tang of the air.
In hopes the flames beat it back, keep tendrils from drawing near.
Slowly fog tastes it's fill of wooden planks and blood.
It leaves a sodden salt strewn smell, seeming to just dissolve.
Folding back on itself, returning to the brine.
Fog waits yet another morn, to return to shore and dine.
"Your Best Poem" contest
Placement: 2nd place
Featured poem of the week ending
Oct. 31, 2010
Categories:
cyclop, imagination, nature, sea
Form: Quatrain