The latest news about the Chess Grand master told the web space
That he joined the Independent University.
It took me to the referral of Time “Epoch,”
As the time travels through the walls of Jerusalem that boasted about
God chosen people and Godforsaken people
As the power club that boasted that they are the grammar book of ruling
That will be decisive in ruling the border wall and ruling the ordered paul
Are they not transitory after the longest day, for a long forgotten gown
That never took me to any convocation, or any place other than
Howls, growls or a frowning town?
As they too, understood I yearn sometimes, for an incomplete poem
To cast in situ in wrinkle free attire and casual gabardine pants.
Is it too hard to let the past go? Or, that too, falls in the category of fornication?
After all they never had to toil like elders for a non graduated school dress
To avoid a Kaplan failure , eternally to sit there in Baton Rouge!
Preening poetess you amaze me
Your glowing speckled freckled face
As you quilt a lilt of melodies
With not even a hair out of place
Well caped and draped in shimmering light
Soft gabardine all in tangerine
You muster a bluster of eloquence
A vision the world has so seldom seen
Your eyes the prize that shames the sunrise
Those rings and bling at your fingertips
And whenever heard the spoken word
Sounds so much sweeter upon your lips
Cloaked in Their Untruths
By Sy Roth
Behind a cloak their little secrets roved,
Like silent, swishing vagrants eluding the truth
The darkness so thick,
A wall of impenetrable secrets built around it.
Leaving the unclosing to callow youth
Senseless in their wasteful trepidation,
They took no time to explore their truths
Dressed in slim, tight gabardine their desires arrested.
They had no need to validate,
No desires to explore.
Lost opportunities heaped into a morass of speculation
Until the voices of the antecedents were silenced.
Screams of loss as the span between life and death widen
They find in their own selves no validity
Only a vacuity in a tale filled with inconsistencies
That are bungee cords flipping them hither and yon unbound.
No way to make whole the person in a sere fabric
When the stories are filled with imagined realities.
They erect their own corpus on a land of falsities
Left only with mislaid dreams of not taking time with the whole cloth.
Brexit Sonnet No.20
‘No More Hell-Broth’
Our Brexit bringers are cross with their leader ‘tis said,
Confidence lost with their gabardine dream of last year.
The model’s moved on, but distress on how they are led
Is causing them angst, with some pain; even fear.
Kindness is due to the man in the eye of the storm,
Well served his country with arms; OBE from our Queen.
Unseated by hurdle in midst of one’s life is the norm,
For a man who selects, or elects, a questionable team.
Now confidence escapes our Brexit bearers,
As wobbly Brexit cauldron boils and bakes,
It’s toxic mix of economic errors.
We suffer, whilst fools of all, it makes.
So eye of newt and toe of frog be gone!
We’ll drink no more hell-broth to Brexit’s song.
©Keith Murphy
The Godly green grass grows gently as it greets the great giant garden...
The green giant garden generously gives gifts of gazing glimpses glistening...
The green goblin guilty gawking garnishes the gamma rays...
The green geometrical leaves gather gangly galore...
The glittering glossy green gem glows glamorously...
The green gabardine greets her gorgeous gentlemen...
Goodbye Green...
March.02.2016 For contest
Adding black to light the green
above the swirl of scale
Talons bare in shining sheen
Accentuate the curl of tail
Half open eye of iris red
Flat wings of gabardine
Brush holds in sudden Elvish dread
The artist has been seen
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.