One evil begger, is old schwartzenegger.'
Damned the freedoms.' The nazis son.'
Pumped up poltroon, whose day is done
With sagging dragging wrinkled hide a
Vulture who feasted on better cultures.'
Always a sicko inside.' Popping pills and
Dropping names, soon it will be his..
This delete was playing the insane
Eugenics Game damn' now what was his first
Name?????????????????????????????????
Now.!
The school child not in it clad
To end up ‘Not Glad’:
A sure vexing of his body with whip
And final nursing of an inflamed hip …
Also, a barbaric conversion into laborer
Which makes his Disciplinarian A torturer…
The school’s spear grasses to down mow
And her refuse dumps in trucks tow.
Still a freezing interview to face,
Interviewers’ final finding “A Purposed Disgrace”
For a child could a launderer grab in time
To avoid The Unwashed School Uniform Crime …
The Pardoned upon a second default
To be shown his waiting vault.
When one sees how high he has reached
Donald Trump will NOT be impeached
The Mueller Report
Could never contort
The maze that this bankrupt has breached!
ARDOR OR PALAVER ?
"We are dying, Egypt, dying."
I'm still alive and trying
to prove to you, my dove,
that I feel for you a love
you can put to any test,
which means, at your behest:
I'd jump from the fiftieth storey,
though the end of that were gory.
How proudly I would stagger
if you stabbed me with a dagger.
You can go and tell 'em
for you I'd gulp down venom.
My will can never bend,
I will love you to the end.
But one thing I'll never do,
not even, dear, for you.
"And what," you ask, "is that?"
I won't pay a penny for that hat.
Another poem from my novel, 'The Girl at the Rest Stop.' The story is about a young girl who was abandoned, rescued by a man, (PJ) and eventually adopted by PJ and his wife. I use poems---pertinent to the following chapter---on the blank pages between chapters.
Palaver and the Hitch Hiker
by Els Worth
While traveling down the road today
You told me much aboutcha.
And I’m quickly learning I can’t
Live a day withoutcha.
You told me all about your life,
And how you got that grit.
You have such joy and humor,
Not to mention all that wit.
You’ve lived a life so rough and tough
I don’t know how you survive.
But it’s what you’ve 'not' said to me,
That caused me to surmise.
But when the sun is finally set,
We’ll go our separate ways,
My joy will turn to sorrow,
And my skies will turn to haze.
I know,My Friend, I’ll miss you,
And that's what we have to toast.
But when I tuck into my bed,
It’s your Palaver I’ll miss the most.
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.