R-eader
O-f
S-weet
A-crostic
L-ets
I-t
E-rase
F-ret
E-njoying
R-apturous
N-ote
A-s
N-atal
D-ay
E-mploys
Z-est
Topic: Birthday of Rosalie Fernandez (December 12)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
J-ust
O-bliterate
E-agerly
Y-our
F-ret
L-etting
O-ne
R-apture
E-xist
N-icely
T-ill
I-t
N-aturally
O-perates
Topic: Birthday of Bro. Joey Florentino (May 14)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
J-ust
I-solate
F-ret
F-or
Y-our
J-oy
O-ffers
N-ice
S-mile
A-s
D-elightful
O-ccasion
R-eally
R-elieves
A-nguish
Topic: Birthday of Jiffy Jon Sadorra (May 09)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
J-ust
A-bate
E-motional
F-ret
A-s
Y-ou
E-njoy
V-ery
I-nteresting
L-ife
L-etting
A-crostic
S-tatement
O-pen
R-apture's
D-oor
A-new
Topic: Birthday of Jaefaye G. Villasorda (May 03)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
J-ust
E-vade
R-oad
O-f
M-isery
E-nding
F-ret
A-nd
J-inx
A-s
R-apture
D-enies
O-bstruction
Topic: Birthday of Jerome Fajardo (May 10)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
At Last we Pause
For: Robert Allen Wise
And at last we pause on dirty streets,
At somber rest with eternal peace.
A moment’s sleep on Satan's floor
With a constant dream of heaven’s door
The cry of battle has embrace its death
As vengeance draws its last breath
One good soul ascends abyss
Into the portal of eternal bliss.
A majestic voice said you may pass
A warriors shadow you have cast
The restless night that you have slain
Creates the dawn that you regain.
So dream no more of battles past
And awaken from your daunting task
This day of memory we give to you
My embattled brother with life anew.
SFC Alva E. Brown (ret)
The Killing Field
Bong Son,Viet Nam
Not All Dead, Returned In Body Bags
Written: By Tom Wright
1/21/03
The war in Viet Nam rages no more,
But what say ye of the animate dead?
Can we continue their plight to ignore?
Staring past the crimson flow they shed?
Pages from life were systematically torn,
Eyes beholding things, which they abhorred.
Returning, aged beyond years, and worn,
Spat upon by some, while by others ignored.
The war they fought some saw as failed,
Protests at home left psyches' battered.
Like the "Hippies" they could have bailed,
But doing the right thing, and duty mattered.
To those, whose loved one's stood deployed,
There was no time that prayer was lost.
Praying that life and limb be not destroyed,
While knowing, war exacts a colossal cost.
Dedicated to my Brother
Master Sgt. Joe D. Wright
U. S. Army, (Ret.)
1st Air Cavalry
Location: unknown
If he and I were neighbors,
Why, I doubt if we’d be friends.
On many major issues, we’d be
Found on different ends.
Just pick a topic and I know
We never would agree.
Our politics alone would prove
Dissimilarity.
And yet, I love to read his poems
And he reciprocates.
Our writing’s formed a bond of which
There can be no debates.
His rhyming stories crack me up –
They’re laughter-generators –
And he’s aware I’m partial to
A poem that mentions “taters!”
So here’s to Robert Hinshaw,
My retired Air Force friend.
I’ll always be a reader of
Whatever he has penned!
I heard Congress was spending money like a drunken sailor
And I thought this was disrespectful
Congress spends like they are obsessed
For the future they’re neglectful
It’s disrespectful to drunken sailors
It is totally wrong what they say
Drunken sailors never spent
Assuming their grandchildren would pay
I was once a drunken sailor
And you know what’s really funny
I always stopped spending
Whenever I ran out of money
Congress are elitist bastards
So let this story be known
When drunken sailors spent that money
They only spent their own.
Congress has no conscience
Part of the political machines
They can spell INTEGRITY
But they don’t know what it means
I’d rather be a drunken sailor
And spend only what I amass
Than to spend it like a congressman
And be a horse’s (OH!! You know what I mean)
BMC Vince Suzadail Jr USNR-Ret.
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.