I have had my head there many a time
Lodged wherein the sun don’t shine
So sad but true
Everyone knew
When it popped out I would be fine
SpongeBob,
A grand pop culture sensation,
Known globally: from nation to nation,
Inspired thousands since creation,
Made humorous, for education,
How you helped form our generation,
You truly uphold your reputation,
So hear my heartfelt declaration - You were truly the best animation
The inquisitive girl said to her mom, Janet
‘The earth is hollow and not made of granite
Because I see herds
Of hopping mad birds
Pecking at the ground to pop our planet’
Janet thought her daughter was fooling around
Then heard, ‘Mom, birds want the world less round.
Hens stab it with their toes
And then the ostrich goes
And sticks its head fully into the ground
If Paris Hilton wrote poetry
her poems would be smart, not dumb
They would not skim the surface
of her glam life
recount her escapades
but dig deep into her isolation
They would employ complex ideas
sophisticated diction
unusual images
She could easily be Mrs Dalloway
beyond her socialite persona
or Emma, with that dignified gaze
There's depth in those blue eyes
gleaming under the flashbulbs
I'll be your girls with the yellow umbrella,
and you'll be my one that got away.
Whispered I love you's in moonlight.
Back handed compliments by day.
Kiss me, love me, fight for me.
Make me enough.
Enough for good riddance,
enough for I'll stay!
But I'm just the girl with a broken umbrella,
and this is just another rainy summer day.
Tale of too Hollywood
Two pages into the Twilight.
No lies, cannot see the light,
I realise the lies salivating on Pennywise's venomous lips.
Dust to dust, friends can become enemies as much as they are family.
Two cigarettes into the young night that seduced James Dean.
A sip of red wine, double back to a night in Paris with Naomi Campbell.
We all see, this is a world that questions reality or should l say vanity?
Two cities, two nights of no sleep counting sheep, sipping tea with the Queen and blowing weed.
This is the age of dreaming today, slumbering in the next life....
I sat at a table
It was a table for one;
There was a mirror
And a pay phone
Seated at the head,
They had all brazenly said:
"This, is ahead of its time"
- Then someone with an agenda
Started forming the lines,
Behind ulterior motives
To be the first to capitalize.
And pretty soon,
With the grand accessories
Of these mock identities,
We were all just living cartoons;
While our petty self-image
Obfuscated the truth
- There was only one presence,
Beneath the mask of our skin,
An emptiness of being,
Void of existential meaning.
Within the inner circle of youth culture,
Someone passed through
Something was familiar; nothing seemed new...
...Not to sound jaded by age
- But I've seen more recent advancement
In the Police State
Than I have in the common man as of late
- I guess some things really do never change?
RC ain’t Rite.
It’s not The Real Thing.
Coke is.
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.