Licence Poems - Poems about Licence

A consistently poor wage Licenses rage: An ugly fight against the cage, Steady enveloping of stagnant wage, A temper warning every wedge, Rising while lowered with vintage. Hirers open a sterile page, Not a complimenting line for a sage: Reflections of his usage, Not a half paragraph for his adage… The low income earner won’t this manage, Nor life in his fatiguing village: The vast hum drums...

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The biggest mockery of what couples have one other told, Impressing a play acting, very bold To conceal some sure, future bickering From a supportive solemn gathering. Spouses once dying to see each other’s nudity Now abhor each other’s faces, The other one an outright oddity That looks a bit tolerable behind laces… A time Satan proves himself more profound Than his...

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New driving license Going to the doctor make me nervous I was renewing my driving license and feared they would say no, you are too old and have many illnesses. It was not so bad I had to read the letters from a chart on the wall the doc whispered something I had to repeat, And that was all. Except...

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Going for a driver's test next week It's a written test, the rules of the road they seek If I don't know 'em by now There's no hope no how Should be a lifetime license when we're at our peak...

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Our impulses does civilisation set out to control Regulation rules. Let slip society's commandments And the feral runs riot. Between the rational and the visceral There is a constant struggle Identified so starkly in The Heart Of Darkness Where unmoored from the diktats of custom Kurtz his moral compass loses. This same lesson does Lord Of The Flies Try to inculcate And the...

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A poets prerogative, poetic licence It has to be said in whispered silence. To misspell a word to make it rhyme. You know some do it to end a line. Its poetic licence, like a rapids dimple. Whirlpool, avoid, like a simple pimple. Ere you could get sucked in so deep. Poetic licence, that’s all, don’t freak. Playing with words too, a poetic...

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Poetic Licence I've been granted my Poetic Licence, Which allows me to write as I find. Exaggeration here, embellishment there, A free spirited open mind. With vivid inspired imagination, I see clearly the world around me, Never letting the truth spoil a good story, My pen writing the things I see. As I look from my bedroom window, An apartment in an industrial town. Wildebeest migrate...

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To renew my driver's licence at this ripe old age Need some distractions, “Hey look at the fuel gauge!” “Almost outta gas!!! Did you see that ass? How's the wife and kids? Have you ever been raped”???...

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Woe is me to the DLV by Gypsy View previous topic View next topic Go down Location : Marton, New Zealand Oh DVLC you have upset me, you are so unkind You’ve committed the ultimate sin; I need to unwind You really have upset me with your letter received to-day How could you be...

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Nothing is worse than badly rhyming verse Or poems so obscure that no one can read Sadly, after investigating some dreadful examples Writing poetry is now banned - the police have decreed! So writing poetry is now illegal I’m bereft I’ll just sit down and cry If I can’t dip my pen in the ink I’ll simply fade away and die I’ve decided...

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I have an admission to make, I feel I'm a poetic fake. I write only in rhyme and in most every line poeterick license I take! I also spend time having fun, this seriously is overdone. In enjoying the ride I have fun on the side though quite often I fall on my bum! The moral of this is quite clear though most will consider me...

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I’ve renewed my poetic licence Just hope it won’t ever expire Poetry has become a bit of an addiction My words can be fact or they could be fiction But I plan to keep on writing quite a bit Even if you think my poems are a heap of rubbish!* * Can't think of a suitable rhyming word :-) 4th January...

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Play with word pun in flow and fun; Opt to fling thought in lines that rhyme; Etch a fond run in rain and sun; Taut and loose plot that stretch each chime; Ink flow and feel with love that lives; Charm hurls to heal pulse that now gives. Line by line seek to stretch wordplay; Image funds say as ideas show; Choice strives...

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I wasn't very careful driving my pen My poetic licence has been revoked I guess I didn't follow all the poetic rules So my licence has gone up in smoke Here I am now forced to travel Without my trusty pen in hand Left to walk on lonely beaches Writing my words in the sand Don't follow in my footsteps Let them all be...

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Li Po, the Wanderer Was appointed Court Poet Yet left again in haste, Preferring the bright noise of a waterfall To the white noise of courtesans and kings....

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