Submission
By Beverly Stock
I called the editor knowing
That my temper would be showing
And said the following to him:
“I sent a poem here, sir”
(I said growing fiercer,)
“And the subject which
I’d chosen, Sir, was Spring.”
“ I just scanned your paper,
By sunlight, torch and taper,
Of my poem, I do not see a thing”
He spoke, I’m sure it was a fib,
Said he, smug and very glib,
“Of the sixty-one submitted, we printed one.”
“And we’ve decided they should be divided
Among the years then reunited
With a new one each succeeding Spring.”
“Your submission, I’m pleased to mention-”
Will receive our best attention
In our Spring Edition - 2081.”
Once upon a time
Truth and fib went for a walk.
Fib tumbles and fall
Truth chuckles, supples and walked
in past, present and future.
Honorable Mention in STRAND SELECT U any form,any theme Poetry Contest sponsored by Brian Strand
I'd like to write a line or two
About Woman Lib
In this age of women's rights
I feel that lib's a fib
"Equal Rights for Women!"
I agree with that, for sure
But twentieth-century women want
Equal rights and more
More jobs and equal rights
More pay and self-esteem
"More jobs!" they keep on screaming
As they fill the washing machine
Bath the screaming baby and vacuum all the floors
Clean the windows, dust the furniture
Add a million other chores
Why do they carry on so?
Why can't they realise
The most important job of all
Is right before their eyes
These forward-looking women
Who seem to want it all
Are backward in their thinking
And not equal at all
Years ago the women
Were much wiser, so it seems
They did one job and did it well
Not equal-but supreme!
I am a fake so many times a day,
It is crazy
Pretending to care when I don’t.
Pretending things are okay, when they are not.
Sometimes I pull myself into my pajamas and crawl into my bed with the
fluffy comforters, three or four seconds after I come home from work.
Knowing I can be real only in my dreams.
Columbus despised local folk
Like Trump, he fibbed as he spoke
But truth be told
He wanted their gold
And you know that man ended up broke
I
Can
Deadpan
Take more than
Any other man
This will be my unwritten plan
Continuing to take silence time and time again
From the most beautiful woman
Till I'm an old man
Madman
Can
I
All
souls
join minds
as one thought
of togetherness
celebrating our time as one
spieces of humans
bound by our
lives on
Earth
We
should
think it
possible
finding peace within
conjoining of beautiful souls
on this planet all call home through our seperate journeys
upon waves described as our lives
with time limited
transcending
human
thought
It was birds Yes Ducks !, Mallards no less
Flown down from Alberta that made this great mess !
I tried to stop them though I shivered in fear
They flew right on past me and landed right here.
They surrounded your cupcakes like an army brigade
and attacked them they did not a one could be saved !
Frosting was flying from the mauls of their beaks
cupcake crumbs scattered all around their webbed feet !
And when they were done and finally flew out
the leader duck threw the last cupcake in my mouth !
I tried not to eat it but it was stuck to my lips
I guess they were just hungry after their long trip ?
Fools Think That This Is a Fib
God's prophecies are a preamble
Things to come and child in a stable
And there had been born in a crib;
Only fools think that this is a fib.
Jim Horn
Motivated by poem written by:
FUNOM MAKAMA
Fib
I
Told him
Lying game
The lie expanded
Now can not keep all those lies straight
Sponsor: David Williams
Contest: Twenty/Twenty
Poetry form: Fib
Written by: Sara Kendrick
20 syllables
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