Redux Poems | Examples

Rangers in the Park - Sinatra Redux

  ~ To the tune of 'Strangers in the 
      Night,' by Frank Sinatra ~  


     Rangers in the park
     Two lonely rangers in the park
        
       We're wond'ring in the dark
       If they'd catch us necking
          by morning’s light

      O, Rangers in the park
      Two lonely rangers in the park
      
      Suddenly we know
      It’s time for us to go ~
         They’re filming Noah’s Ark

      Doo-be-doo-di-doo... fade out

One More Write -- Phil Collins Redux

        ~ To the Tune of 'One More Night'
                 by Phil Collins ~

        One more write, I gotta do just
        one more write, there’s gotta be
               just one more write
               left in good old me tonight 

        Babe, without you I’m so lonely
        but what moves me now is only 
               One more write, I gotta do just 
               one more write, for you and me tonight

National Geographic Redux

     Watusis are not genetically modified organisms
     neither are pygmies

       ~ which is the long and short of it

Free-Range Limericks Redux

Free-Range Limericks Redux

My free-range limericks are light
They will not keep you up at night
You won't find tawdry
Anything naughty
In my universe, they're just right!




5/13/2023

Poetry form: Free-Range Limerick

This is my second limerick that refers to my work in progress, Free-Range Limericks, on wattpad.com.  To date, I have posted 25 limericks. They are free-range because they can roam freely outdoors, making them loads of laughs and full of fun; and they're also antibiotic and gluten-free. In my universe, they're just right!

Aesop Redux

He squandered time, left fields unplowed,
in search of highs, pursuing thrills,
neglecting that he'd been endowed
with gifts to cultivate and till.
He wandered where his heart did please,
but pleasure slipped by small degrees.

A random walk, no certain line:
the storms in life were kept at bay.
But with no star to point or shine,
he, ere awares, had lost his way.
Once jubilant, his raucous dance
had brought him to a wide expanse.

There in the field, he saw them toil;
relentlessly, they stored away
the harvest so as not to spoil,
to see them through a future day.
He should have marvelled at their craft;
instead, he skipped off with a laugh.

The weather turned, conditions grim;
he found no respite from the storm.
A fleeting thought occurred to him:
that colony was nice and warm,
but having not the strength to fight,
succumbed, unconscious, to the night. 

The ants took pity: although he
was thirsting, cold, and oh so thin,
and time would pass before he'd be
industrious, they took him in.
"Why wasn't I just disavowed?"
he wondered, this time not so loud…

Tortoise and Hare Redux

She has a certain savoir-faire;
always clever with the cleaver.
Young leveret wants to believe her,
follows signs for trim of hare.

Too old, her title to recoup,
waits patient at the barbershop,
then takes a little off the top;
a tortoise makes delightful soup.

O Do You Remember Redux

O, do you remember how I once was thin?
I’ve been there before, and I’ll be there again.
But if I chose a fave, food would probably win;
I’m in sort of a deep hole before I begin…

Because barbecue’d meats are a man’s true delight,
And some smoked mac-n-cheese complements all things, right?
And I tend to eschew if the label says, “Lite”,
But I neither am one to back down from a fight.

I’m not one to diet, but I don’t mean to scoff,
so instead I’ve decided to walk my *ss off.
Yes, I’m hiking right ‘round the bend, living the dream,
eating ripe wild persimmons with sugar and cream.

Old Woman Redux

There was an old woman:
a bit of a shrew - 
She couldn’t have children,
'cuz guy parts won't do.
A shocking pink swath
up there on her head,
she drank boxed Chianti
and raised cats instead.

Dodo Redux

The Dodo, it’s curious
Lived down in Mauritius
A bit east of Madagascar,
You can’t get there with your car.

It’s an island, and it’s quite remote
But you wouldn’t need an overcoat
You won’t get there with your time machine
Unless your machine floats.

Right off the Indian continent,
If a Dodo was incontinent
What would he wear not to spill content? 
Well, that just Depends…

‘Cuz how would they pull them up,
Or change them when they’re full up?
A question supposable
When they haven’t the opposable.

A question pretty clumsy
And I'm just all thumbsy
And it doesn't matter, 'cuz they're all extinct,
I just know that it stinks.

There’s one thing I’m sure I know
If I had a pet Dodo
I might call him Bilbo
But more likely it would be Frodo

And I’d have me a hobbit hole
For all of those Depends, you know
And that's where all the dirties go,
And I’d call it Bag End.

H/T to Terry Flood’s Do Dodos Do Doo Doos

Brunhilde Redux

Brunhilde, Brunhilde
Alas, where’s Matilda?
You killed, yes you killed a
Sweet waltzer with grace.

Brunhilde, Brunhilde
Foretold, now fulfilled,
A billabong’s filled,
A poor girl’s in that place.

----------

H/T to Maurice Rigoler's Brunhilde

Billy Joel Redux

I keep writing these poems, and then I delete
'bout an unpleasant subject I found in a tweet
if you saw what I wrote, you would prob'ly agree
I was dropped as a child and something's just not right about me

You can ignore the verses, you can love 'em or leave 'em
But whatever you do, don't you ever believe 'em
Had a one oh six fever before I was three
I would blame meningitis, but truth is, it's probably me

Potting Shed Redux

The Taj Mahal will one day fall,
They’ll build and tear down three more malls,
But one thing here when Jesus calls:
My wife’s new potting shed.

The concrete footers all are poured.
There’s even concrete for the floor.
The anchor bolts required more
For her new potting shed.

The surface bond cement’s applied;
I’ve got red patches on my hide.
It’s looking good, I must confide
(My wife’s new potting shed).

The roof will be brown standing seam
To match with our green acre theme.
Duality: nightmare and dream
Our little potting shed.

And if, by chance, tornadoes come,
We’ll head there quickly, in a run
And wait it out until they’re done
In our new potting shed.

And when I’m done from all my toil,
She’ll have a place to mix her soil.
If we kept records, we’d recoil
At her new potting shed.

Two Bags of Seed Redux

When I was born
I came equipped 
With two million seeds

Not warm enough 
Nor moist enough 
Or too many weeds

The sun not out
The soil not rich
Or nothing that one needs

I base my stance 
On abortion rights 
On the reality of seeds


***

Zionist Redux - Milk Or Money

God promised the Jews Israel
  A 'Land of Milk and Honey'

So, most headed to America ~
  where they could make some money

Peachy Keen Redux

sweet succulent peach
chomp chomp juice runs down your chin
~ sticky shiny smile

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