In the list I saw a new contest, entitled "A Poem Please."
At first glance I thought, "Is this for real or just a tease?"
The theme for this contest was just periods-punctuation.
I'd have moved on except for contests I've an infatuation.
A string of five dots, seemingly a period after a period.
Hmm...Should I write in sonnet form, or an epic Iliad?
The challenge in this one is that I wasn't given a direction
of what to write about. It's in the hands of my discretion.
I know I've jumped off the deep end of the poetry pool
but if I turn back now, I'm sure I'll look like a crazy fool.
I'm left wondering how to salvage such a pathetic start
of what could have been a poem about a broken heart.
Nah, I've written that scenario a time or maybe twelve.
Into that nether region I should no longer try to delve.
No pizza party will this little ditty win for the likes of me.
But this something silly might make you laugh-wickedly.
Must explain my reason for grinning
It's not what you might think
Got a cramp down in my nether region
Maybe too many beans methinks
It's easy for people to think I'm just happy
Coz I am the majority of the time
The look on my face can be very similar
This time it emanates from behind
Think I just need to let a boomer go
One that could shatter tall buildings
I hesitate to let the damn thing fly
For fear it would loosen people's filling
Guess I'll just have to suffer in silence
Till I reach a McDonald's restroom
If I make it, I hope they build 'em strong
Down with my drawers then kaboom!
The shattered remains can still be seen
They decided to make the site a memorial
Seventeen people have lost their eyesight
Six swore off Big Macs overall
Now I've divulged my reason for grinning
It's not that I'm happy, you see
The real reason is internal combustion
Not allowing my wind to blow free!
nether region pulse
intoxicates me dizzy ~
please ignore your phone
In the list I saw a new contest, entitled "A Poem Please."
At first glance I thought, "Is this for real or just a tease?"
The theme for this contest was just periods-punctuation.
I'd have moved on except for contests I've an infatuation.
A string of five dots, seemingly a period after a period.
Hmm...Should I write in sonnet form, or an epic Iliad?
The challenge in this one is that I wasn't given a direction
of what to write about. It's in the hands of my discretion.
I know I've jumped off the deep end of the poetry pool
but if I turn back now, I'm sure I'll look like a silly fool.
I'm left wondering how to salvage such a pathetic start
of what could have been a poem about a broken heart.
Nah, I've written that scenario a time or maybe twelve.
Into that nether region I should no longer try to delve.
No awesome pissa will this ditty win for the likes of me.
But this PERIOD piece might make you laugh-wickedly.
NOTE: Prizes for this contest include the title of Awesome and a Wicked Pissa.
April 29th, 2016
Poor Pauline was caught unawares when she was in a rush
She ripped the seam of her jeans exposing her enormous tush
People started smiling when she had passed their way
For her tiny G-string panties were clearly on display!
She could feel a cooling breeze around her nether region
Thank goodness it was summer and not the winter season!
Jan Allison
24th April 2016
quietly inside
as the whisper of the wind through the
tall white birches
standing straight amongst the snow in the deep deep
forest
locked away in its proper vault
within the furthest most nether region of the heart lies the
burning torch---
it has been there for years
keeping warm a hope that one day
said object of affection will come around &
the legend of “the one” will be attained by
you & you alone
because you waited for someone to
realize that you were in fact the
love of their life.
and the torch stands strong through the rain,
through the snow, through the tears & through the
bouts of laughter---it’s always there throughout all the relationships that are simply being made to pass the time &
keep you physically sane---
the torch allows every possible connection to rot away
because the one for whom the torch is
privately & so secretly held
could care less about you &
doesn’t have the same feelings
(nor will they ever)---
until you blow out the torch on your own
to give yourself a happy life,
you will be bound to suffer inside
that naïve hope of the silent
crush.
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.