I wonder about a skyscraper.
I imagine if it could caper.
Around town.
Making skyscraper sounds.
As if a building could smile.
Windows lit up to be seen for miles.
I write about a skyscraper that’s meek.
My poetry is a bit unique.
It’s a bit of an illness but not a curse.
It’s just a harmless, silly verse.
That’s all I do with my powers.
Is write nonsense for hours.
It’s just a bit odd.
To write about a skyscraper’s nod.
I can only write about thoughts within me.
So I write about a skyscraper on a swing set with a tree.
My poetry makes them wonder.
And then I write another.
A poem that’s different, but just as unsound.
So they forget about the skyscraper that runs around.
My foolish heart
Has been broken
More than once
But I will not
Write about it
With fancy words and fonts
My foolish heart
Has been broken
Many times
But I put it
Back together
With some
Silly verse and rhymes
My foolish heart
Will always try again
Because love
It makes the world go round
So if you stop
I guess it ends
Domestic beer and cheap cigars
inflame my lyric flare,
spark my anxious urge
to create something readable,
splurge into visions of sugarplums,
flights of pure fancy, till I have a
poem distilled in my brain.
The struggle to articulate is
pure and simple pleasure,
making mountains out of molehills,
silk purses from sows' ears,
perched at my computer
with my dreams and foolish wishes.
So I'll smoke another stogie,
free a beer from the refrigerator,
write another silly verse to share
with God knows whom;
I'll keep shunning good nutrition
and be grateful to my muse
'til they lay me cold and lifeless in my tomb!
Tweedle-dum and twiddle-dee-dee!
Fiddle-faddle and fiddle-dee-dee!
Now who can make sense of that silly verse?
Now that I think on it, I've written much vurse!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
Domestic beer and cheap cigars
inflame my lyric flare,
spark my anxious urge
to create something readable,
splurge into visions of sugarplums,
flights of pure fancy, till I have a
poem distilled in my brain.
The struggle to articulate
is pure and simple pleasure,
making mountains out of molehills
and silk purses from sows' ears,
perched at my computer
with my dreams and foolish wishes.
So I'll smoke another stogie,
free a beer from the refrigerator,
write another silly verse to share
with who knows whom;
I'll keep shunning good nutrition
and be grateful to my muse
'til they lay me cold and lifeless in my tomb!
Arf arf arf and arf
Little doggie says
Little doggie says
arf and arf arf
Quack quack and quack
Little ducky says
Little ducky says
Quack and Quack Quack.
Tum Tum dee dum
Tum dee dee dum
Tum dee dee dum
dee dum Tum Tum
Pip Pip and pip
Dipity Dipity Dip
Dipity Dipity Dipity
Pip andPip Pip
Ta da dum dee dee
Ta da dum dee
Ta da dum dee
dee dee ta dum.
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.zzzzzzzzzzzz !!!
I USED THIS CONCOCTED RHYTHM TO PUT MY ONE-YEAR-OLD
GRANDAUGHTER TO SLEEP AND IT ACTUALLY WORKED. IN THE MEANTIME, I
GOT A WORK OUT BECAUSE I WAS MOVING AT A FAST JIG THROUGH THE
GARDEN. HA!
One leg two legs
Hop to the beat
Never mind what others say
I sometimes like to cheat
On the tree I like to stretch
and bask in color green
Yet on a branch I simply doze
in dismal color brown.
My puny size and fleet of foot
confuse people’s eyes
They never know where I am at
So illusive I am.
I sing sweeter than cicadas
In an octave higher too
Even birds look at me with envy
Except the cuckatoo.
Heh, heh ….. Boo.!
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.