It’s a ruthless heatwave darling
Temps are thirty plus these days
Though it’s May, some leaves are falling
Baked to gold and brown phase
Saw banana moon last night
Hanging in the darkened sky
I imagined that you might
Have spotted it as well as I
But I guess you see the moon
From a different angle now
And its shape may change too soon
Sooner than this yellow bow
That I saw, will become rounder
And the big fat moon will rise
Upon us - we’ll sing about her
Like we did in good old times..
Collops of fat line the tables of the few,
while the many stretch hands toward empty plates.
Skyscrapers rise in the capital,
yet in the villages, children bend under jerrycans,
walking miles for a sip of muddy water.
The economy grows, they say—
percentages polished and paraded—
but the growth is stored in vaults,
not in classrooms with broken desks,
not in hospitals without medicine,
not in the pockets of the farmer who tills red soil for nothing.
Every election season,
collops of fat are dangled like bait—
T-shirts, soap, envelopes,
promises swollen with grease,
but never nourishment for tomorrow.
The youth, restless, crowd into boda stages,
degrees folded in pockets,
dreams reduced to dust by unemployment.
Markets overflow with speeches,
but not with buyers.
Streets fill with posters,
but not with jobs.
Uganda’s wealth pools in corners,
thick, congealed, unreachable.
The nation limps,
while a few grow heavier, rounder,
their laughter echoing across gated compounds.
Collops of fat—
the evidence of excess,
the proof of imbalance,
the weight carried not by those who eat,
but by those who starve.
Big Ben chimes again
With Bazball zen
One of those men
From special stock
Shepherd of the flock
Hewn from strewn Volcanic rock
From New Zealand's Southern Isle
But only there for a wee while
Mighty flame haired flair laird
Without doubt more about Blighty's North East
They forged this bellicose beast
Ripsnorting sporting cavorting squire
Glutton & gourmand gorged feast
Test town crier
Puffed buffed chest
Inspire..burning
Proper copper topper
Churning fire..
Endless zest..desire
No dull lull
No bore draw
Simple...aspire
To score more!
It's not arcane
Stokes campaign & reign
Train like you're insane
Always entertain!
Remember us flounder
In the gutter
Trounced...17 on the bounce
Could we have found
Pound for pounder
Better all rounder
Nutter...go getter
Sounder founder
Run rate record setter
Of the evolution
And revolution
Of Test cricket
Toe to toe
Blow by blow
Heave ho
Give us a ticket
In the Baz ball or
Ben buzz grotto
Gung Ho motto
You will never know
Till you give it a go!
He was a player, a rounder, a pleasure monger
Spent his life in zealous pursuit of pleasure
The dour-faced speaker looked disgusted by his life choices
My friend and I discussed him later, in awe of his journey
Debauchery to her made him a hero in our eyes
Can you imagine spending your life in pursuit of pleasure?
I think we should all do it, as long as we do not hurt others.
An old friend visited today, no longer young Men
Our hair changed, not with dyes or clippers anymore
Two silver foxes, a little rounder than before
We both have partners now, I have kids
Where once warehouse raves and Oxford st debauchery stood
Now roast pork and red wine abound
A bottle shared, just slightly older than the story of us
The bonds that held us together remain unbroken
We laugh and shared our tales, those funny sayings we had
Where’s so and so now, and how did we get here?
Twelve years, as if no more than a weekend had passed
Promises to make it sooner next time
A warm embrace and gently to bed
I love you brother
All - rounder : Majestic Maestro
That’s unique persona Leonardo !
Illustrious Marvellous!
Glorious Gracious.
Artist, Painter , Sculpture
Helicopter- Designer
Nonparallel, Fantastic
Father of Robotics.
So many qualities
in single personality.
In every discipline peerless performance .
sparkling shining, so-called renaissance .
Architect, Superb Scientist ,
Meteorologist, Zoologist, Botanist .
Good physique looked handsome
Multi talented ! Awesome.
My veneration, reverence
flowing in opulence
to Great Polymath on adoration
and deep admiration.
Jiggle Jiggle bubble bum
Where'd that extra weight come from
It grows rounder every year
Needing a sign that says "beware"
Jiggle Jiggle bubble butt
Some days my mouth just forgot
To not munch on all those snacks
The weight went right to my back ---- ( side )
Jiggle Jiggle bubble a--
You are in a different class
You don't even have to work
To get your bottom to twerk
Jiggle Jiggle shakey shake
You don't even need a fake
Butt enhancer you are buying
Yours is real without trying
Dressy reindeer was given a marvelous outfit to wear.
To show off to the rest of the herd, most amazed and aware.
She was something special, a reindeer to admire and revere.
Many of the male reindeer admired her flirtatious rear.
Dressy reindeer was fashionable, dressing in Parisian clothes.
She never seemed to be common or had our regular woes.
I admired her from afar, and was never her confident or friend.
Intimidated by her for decades of years, until the end.
When I did finally meet her, we got along in a blazingly good way.
She would always ask me to linger a bit longer to have a nice stay.
I think of all those years where her beauty intimidated me.
Feeling guilty about generalizing her, I would stay a bit longer for tea.
Believe it or not her woes were the same as the rest of our woes.
She had lots of weird fetishes, she was afraid of humble plain clothes.
Her husband had been a rounder, finding other ladies pretty.
I stayed and admired her, her sense of humor was witty.
She had a callous patch a few years ago
Bruised and beaten, as some of you know.
Her husband was a rounder, traveling to and fro.
Rough and mean, rugged, but incredibly slow.
She finally flicked him off her big toe as the empowered sometimes do.
Kicked him under the rug with her left foot and shoe.
Like a callous on a winter’s day.
She simply extracted him and ran quickly away.
He told people that she was the callous one.
They laughed at his ignorance, in secret made fun.
But to his face, they kept their callous thoughts clean.
Because he was incredibly slow, vile, and mean.
What makes him tough? She asked me.
I dared not say, for she is a rounder with glee.
Seriously, she prodded. Please give me an example.
Variety of anecdotes about this thug were more than ample.
However, she is my cousin, and she always goes after the bad.
This Tom is seriously not a nice guy, a thug, a thief and a cad.
I got invited to their wedding the sixteenth of July.
It surprised me although to this day, I have no idea why.
We are trying to one up each other as usual – another story teller and I.
Our stories are getting wilder, less plausible, and we are laughing.
Suddenly I remember my pal Gertrude’s story.
I am pretty sure it was a lie, but it made a terrific story.
Gert was married to a man who was a rounder.
He started going out on Saturday nights, all slicked up and handsome.
He did not take her.
Refused actually.
About six months later her friends said he was getting married.
They had been invited to his wedding – next Saturday.
On Saturday he dressed especially nice with a boutonniere.
Gert said “You look good enough to get married.”
She said he did not even blink.
He did get married to the other woman, illegally.
I have no idea if the other woman knew he was already married or not.
Let’s see you top this story, I thought
There was silence.
Then we both burst out laughing.
We feel that we know you completely
But all we know is a little only.
We speak about our achievements in a pompous way
And often forget to notice the silent performer in you.
You never feel bad for being the outlet of our anger.
But you are the one who satiates everyone’s hunger.
Your grandchildren may consider you as an old granny.
But they’ll stun when come to know your accomplishments.
If we glide into the previous pages,
We can find how you...
Nourished as a mother!
Preached as a teacher!
Supported as a life-partner!
Harmonized as a coordinator!
Resolved as a chief advisor!
Your thoughts as innocent smiles of rich hued blooms
And actions with the glory of unseen suffused scent
You are the real all-rounder
And you are the best Giver!
PLACED: 1ST
A Mother's Love, Tributes of Love for Mother's Day Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: BJ Legros Kelley
03-05-2022
Call me a Poet,
but I’m just a writer
these words that I breathe
respoken much later
Call me a Poet,
my couplets in rhyme
each stanza to shorten
with meaning sublime
Call me a Poet,
my retinue sounder
to live by the moment
my squares getting rounder
Call me a Poet,
I’ll call you the same
if one phrase you’ll tender
—attached to your name
(The New Room: March, 2022)
The teacher is believed
To be an all rounder
For a record holder in education
An educator, advisor, counsellor, planner, examiner and innovator
Just like a remote control
For some nonmachinerised, noncomputerised or nondigital devices
The 'nude' and innocent children
Born today going to tomorrow
The dark comes often.
The dark comes free.
It leaves behind an early morning frost.
I’m a rogue scholar and a rank philosopher,
A rounder playing drunken gypsy songs.
Got a tidy pension and a place to live.
I keep a sexy violinist on the side.
The dark comes heavy.
The dark comes cold.
It chills the empty chambers of my heart.
I take the down slope on the backside.
I’ve always been attracted to the low life.
Might’ve gone to college, might’ve been to school,
But there’s no glass ceiling on the floor.
The dark comes early.
The dark comes deep.
It drains the very color from the world.
I live alone, but I’m in bed with a cruel mistress.
Spiky and hard, she stabs the fabric of my nightmares
Till I scream in ecstasy from the thrill,
Then thank myself for being so evolved.
The dark comes easy.
The dark comes fast.
It drops the final curtain on the day
.
The dark’s in you.
The dark’s in me.
We share the same perversion of the soul.
Sub Categories
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.