Survive Until Five Five Five Five
Hope my poetry writing will survive
Until I finally arrive at five five five five
Had surveyed,
Was dismayed;
Then killed each poem with my knive.
Jim Horn
While Wearing A Broach
When writing had been wearing a broach;
Looked down on floor and saw big roach;
It even might,
Be a termite;
Had left my house riding away on a coach.
Jim Horn
Will Read A Psalm
Each time when I will read a psalm,
Receive much peace and also calm;
So much silence,
And no suspense;
God us He will always overwhelm.
Jim Horn
Remember when this song we would sing,
Which was about our precious risen king,
Had behaved;
Me He saved,
And we will love Him more than anything.
Jim Horn
Categories:
knive, allegory, analogy,
Form: Limerick
Your Invitation
You wanna from New York-
talk skin-teeth stories
b|tch brick-falling buildings
knive bus choking fumes-
Proud-over cracked sidewalks
holy street-people
and cracked-dreams?
You wanna scar of alley cans and
rooftop bums who eat
lost pink Spaldin® balls?
You coo city-drums and garbage-glory-
Swag-shoulder every party-
Shoe your claim by kitchen-fame...
Then GO THERE!
New York will school your past and
take your part.
Categories:
knive, assonance, identity,
Form: Alliteration