The black sea of faces
I meet in the street,
With hunched backs
from a menacing gory despair,
Sweeping across the land
like a flood of monsters,
And dry lips a stamp left by
the ravages of hunger,
With gloomy eyes poppin
sluggishly at me,
As if I am an exotic piece of cheese
from Honolulu,
Making me feel like a fresh sandwich
inbetween molded bread,
Wishing I could Snape back to where I was,
And forget the nightmares people trudge
in daylight,
For the nightmares drain all the flikers of hope left in me,
Hope of a better future
that I have always dreamt.
Hans Gruber to Severus Snape
Add Galaxy Quest as a jape
With Love Actually
And a Todd named Sweeney
Alan Rickman's my favorite escape
For Celebrity Limerick Poetry Contest
8/21/18
the snake sheds his skin
looks to me and says
"oh, god, i'm snaked."
and there he goes
he went from slither
to wither
he was just too insecure
to be a part of nature
oh, well
In Suffolk where the barley grows,
Its said that folks have seven toes,
And 'round some parts of Sutton Hoo,
They've grown an extra finger too!
They're banjo players one and all,
And tractor drivers but that's not all,
They don't go far when they get wed,
They choose a cousin to bed instead;
So watch yourself and have a care,
If you should wander way down there,
I wouldn't say they're thick or slow,
But your average Snape or Ipswich joe,
Is often found with a throbbing brain,
And his jaw dropped at the sight of planes,
Or wondering where the voice is from,
Bewildered by a mobile phone,
With flowery accent and hint of snarl,
They're more or less Neanderthal,
'Orlroit Boi' they're heard to shout,
When seeing friends round and about,
Then his brain goes into overdrive:
'Oi'll see yer ammara in the pub at foive'
But it's not my personal politics,
To claim they're cider swilling hicks,
This is of course a fallacy,
(though grounded in reality ;p)
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