he throws snowballs at buses
but now is able to memorably convey experiences
using iambic dimeter
creating an impersonality
vidya games and spondee
he threw my bicycle in the river
now juxtaposing contrasting stuff side by side
heroic couplets
passive aggressive ballads
caesura; and brexit geezer
he said my inflections and monosyllables
were slick and sick; cowboy poetry
his first poem is called "no one understands me -
how to wear the crown of thorns"
it has a jolly tone that will uplight the reader's spirits
gardyloo hoecake
Baloney, bumfuzzle, fiddledeedee
Taradiddle, gardyloo, snickersnee
Gobbledygook, gardyloo, tickle me,
Hullabaloo, cattywampus hogwash hoo-ha
Claptrap, collywobbles ballyhoo brouhaha!
~A Brian Strand 4 or 5 line contest.
Mary King’s Close
Set underneath the cobbles
Below the Royal Mile
The close is dimly lit
You can visit there awhile
Go back into the past
Explore the narrow wynds
Live the overcrowding
Get inside their minds
Look out for scurrying rats
As they scavenge to survive
A battle of the shrewd
Where rats appear to thrive
See where chamber pots were emptied
Into the streets below
Gardyloo the warning shout
The one you needed to know
Within these city walls
Is where the plague broke out
Death was more than likely
Of that there was no doubt
Many people perished
A horrible painful death
Suffocated and poisoned
To their very end breath
Not all the dead have gone
Some spirits stayed behind
It’s a fact that they are evil
Sinister, they are inclined
If your heart starts racing
Hairs rise upon your neck
A spirit may be lurking
Very slowy - - turn and check
If a spirit you do disturb
To the exit I advise
For these spirits are demonic
Heed my words and be wise
The gnu in the crew
Didn’t know what to do
He was feeling a wee bit bumfuzzle
For the bear in the middle
Spoke pure taradiddle
And he was just part of the puzzle
He called out “gardyloo
Yes, I’m talking to you
You’ve turned us about widdershims”
Then he heard billingsgate
From another shipmate
With language not found in church hymns
Now he felt gollywobbles
From all of their squabbles
And wanted to set the crew straight
“We must turn cattywampus
And follow the compass
And do it before it’s too late.”
Like sickersnees through some butter
An encouraging utter
“I think we can keep up the pace”
And soon by some gubbins
By hard rowing and pumpin’s
They found themselves back in the race
I was asked to write a poem using all those weird words you see. You might have to look them up in a dictionary to get the true meaning of some of the lines.
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.