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Premium Member POETIC PEOPLE SERIES whigmaleerie

Tribute to William Soutar 1898-1943


A  Perthshire Lad William Soutar

William S* showed a poetic voice
the quatrain form,his choice
he named a whigmaleerie
became a lasting legacy

Wiliam Soutar famed for his 119 American cinquains(which he labelled epigrams) also wrote  whigmaleeries for children .

In dialect and lyric William’s
poetry soon found fame.
Whims and fanciful notions
these  whigmaleerie were known.

Less popular yet, equally unique
verse in English, oh so terse. This
genre , American cinquain consolidated 
a reputation,once again.



Grew to manhood on the river Tay,
Writing poems ,most every day;
Cinquains,epigrams, whigmaleerie-
& His diary of a dying man,left
Telling observations, for all to see.

Premium Member Review Sep 12

An atypical Carroll comic conversational satire style poesy in three voices in 40/40/28 tercet stanzas in the series of this genre to which he is identified & on which his reputation & epitaph rests

Lewis Carroll famed now for 'Alice'
a wonderland lass with no vice
Also in verse he did persist
Jabberwocky revealed him a linguist

Children's books of worldwide acclaim
Whimsical humour in nonsense rhyme
Of childhood days in summertime-
Its acrostic brought Liddel's fame,
The story ending with Alice's full name

Premium Member The Bermuda Triangle

The Bermuda Triangle, does it still exist?
For a long time there has been no mention
No airplanes vanish, nor ships and boats missed
What’s happened to famed fifth dimension?  
I read about time tunnels, unquiet zones
Toxic vapours of methane hydrate   
Triangle get lost, so no happy returns 
The last of great mysteries fades 
Its magnetic field has been demagnetized
Or maybe the global warmth stroke 
Bad seaweed has died, and the air clarified
So the danger zone evoked a joke
No one gives a damn was it fiction or truth
That old hype has veered off the track  
But I'd much prefer to see this in the news: 
“The Bermuda Triangle strikes back!”


Premium Member CLASSICAL MASTERS MAIDS series

Da Vinci so famed for his  'Mona'
this Lisa is such an enigma
My preference is his first painted face
hence a clerihew pic with such grace

Premium Member Review Sep 3

Alice Walker,famed novelist of Cloured Purple with this nineteen lined 'The Old Men Used to Sing' evokes a childhood memory 'conversational styled poem' using two or three words short staccato sentences

The Poet's Hand

There laid the young poet, the famed lover,
   Staring at the gloomy hands of the clock,
 As if counting his own steps to the gates of     
                                 death,
   The doctor sat beside him, head lowered,
  Like an executioner hides from his victims,
     The poet held a copy of his own poem,  "An ode to love", he read with a slight smirk,
  It read like a parody of his life, which it may     
                              have been,
As the daylight seemed dimmer by the hour,
 He let out his hand to someone, who wasn't    
                                  there,
      And it waited till it got cold and slack,
  For no one came to hold the young poet's 
                                  hand.


Premium Member LODGE

LODGE
like an
old castle

we rowed boats and swam
explored long mountain trails -
felt old-fashioned ambiance

 “at the famed Mohonk Mountain House”

Desolate Clown

Desolate clown's
traveling train
tours famed cities
onto quaint towns.
He mimicks glee
for his ousted 
heart's sutures
are dismissive 
frowns.

Balloon twisting's
what he knows--
cause joggeling act
makes kids mope;
And sparking globe-nose 
bombards 
the Top's bleachers 
with plumes
of blinding smoke.

His onesie sports
ink-stains for color;
And oily-face  
with white base 
sweating turns 
cream-soupy butter;
Shoved and ridiculed
by crowds-even peers,
cause he studders.

His Mass Bay clown
soles have holes--
with grimy socks,
torn by nails and corns.
Grey's his story--
when a caboose's
the only corner
where he 
can call home.

He'll tumbling fall
to gain their laughs-
cringing weeps
in silence-- 
from prying eyes.
The show must go on--
cause he's a star;
Like his forefathers 
before him-since then past on.

True Colors

A proud Borinquen
does not truly care
if you judge us
Nor will we find joy
in catering to 
the tragic whims 
of the bigots
Who ignore us
and deplete us
For the sake of
helping their own
and hurting others
who don't look 
like them
Just because
they think 
we're unworthy
when -- in truth
We were here first
and will forever be
worthy of what 
was always ours.

*Written in honor of Puerto Rican Pride Month, inspired by the work of famed Puerto Rican poet Sandra Maria Estevez. Peace be with everyone reading these words.

Premium Member Maiden Hair Fern

For you, my lover and my friend,
this Maiden made of light green hair,
feathered fronds of fan-shaped leaves,
and fineness of its thin, dark stems.
Famed maiden-name of maidenhood
is formed in misty woodland wood.

I would you have this gift so green
I found along a rippling stream
to shade your face in summer's heat,
or place in vase with Queen Anne's Lace.

Premium Member Vulgar - I knew a man from downtown Bell South

I knew a man from downtown Bell South
who could stick his own d-ck in his mouth.
That put him in the same bucket
as that famed man from Nantucket,
though he swore he never did suck it.

Premium Member Limerick Lasanga


I spread layers of laughter in a long baking pan,
with a rhythm that twists the smoky scent I can scan.
Five lines per slice, I assemble carefully quick,
make this dish pulsate and glint like a limerick.

First sheet, a town and a person, famed or unfamed,
second, an odd trait that need not be tamed.
The rhyme goes A-A, then loosens its tight grip,
repeats at the last layer with a tag line flip.

Short lines on top, longer anapest pasta below,
the meter stumbles slightly, then steals the show.
B-B ricotta and spinach creep in the middle on the sly
with simmering mozzarella that doesn’t overflow dry.

I season the dish with nonsense spice, lively and loud,
a crispy curl at the base makes the last layer proud.
With light ragu sauce I garnish the humorous trait,
just with the perfect comical timing I bake it great.

The final ingredient is hilarity with melodramatic bend,
with a twist at the end to be served with fun to a friend.
Topped off with a punch line parmesan. that is hot, 
I cook the best meal, limerick lasagna, in poetry pot.

63 Three Charms of Luz-Vi-Minda Against Spain

63.

Three Charms of Luz-Vi-Minda Against Spain



She's Luz-Vi-Minda

Priestess of Asia

When incubus harms

She takes out her charms…



Behold! Jose Rizal

Our hero national

Poet, doctor, researcher

Farmer, herder, school-builder

Fought Spaniards with paper and pen

Luzon's charm – noblest of our men!



Behold! Lapu-Lapu!

Defender of Cebu

First terror of invaders

Famed Magellan's death renders

Rammed Spaniards with native bolo

Visayas' charm – quaintest hero!



Behold! Purmassuri!

Awesome Muslim lady

Wise heroine of Sulu

Foreigners cannot subdue

Disturbed Spaniards so tribesmen won

Mindanao's charm – enemies thrown!



-11/27/2011

(Dumarao)

*First Incubus Collection

Premium Member Frosty the Snowman

Frosty begged his nose to blaze bright red,
Rudolph’s famed legend had gone to his head.
One night he stole a coal from desire's fire —
By dawn, his dream for glory became a quagmire.

Premium Member Why Not

I hammered some words
out from the quarry of my brain.
They fell around in shards;
some like boulders, 
some like rocks and rubble. 
I picked them up one by one.
Block on block, I piled them up,
thinking I could build a ‘pleasure dome’

But,
when it was time for the workman
to marvel over the beauty and wonder
of his dream creation,  
his masonry tumbled down
like sand castles built
by little hands in sea strands
or dunes of quicksand sliding down.

I have lost count of the times,
this has happened before.
Now I stay resigned,
amid a heap of debris and ask myself-
“Is there any use feeling remorse”?

Like Nero fiddling on his harp,
when Rome was burning,
I sit on this pile of wreck
piping my thoughts away.

In the cusp between victory and defeat
I have charted my future action plan-
decided not to cry over spilt milk, 
but to start over and continue my work,
till I can erect a ‘pleasure dome’ of words
as our famed poet Coleridge did!

Why not keep trying again and again as the spider 
that inspired King Robert Bruce.... !

Why not go on until I succeed ??

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