There was once a dock worker whose name was Dick,
His employers knew not, Dick had worked out a perfect trick,
Forty five was his speculated age,
He dressed according to his meager wage,
Went home daily with a barrow, security noticed dick was quick.
On other days they noticed many a different kind of trivia,
Told security was selling empty boxes to buy pills, had leukaemia,
Will tell you more when I retire,
Continued with his routine and poorly attire,
His secret, confessed stole a barrow a day, headlines in media.
Moved to Mexico, learnt Spanish, dyed hair black so could blend,
Applied for a job in revenue office, made many a friend,
Managed and learnt to cheat a little,
Hey Dick be careful, don’t fiddle,
Persisted to play his tricky games, predictably caught at the end.
The tallest toddler who lived in Toronto be
Two year old towering Timmy
Typically Timmy is talkative
today Timmy spoke tired and timidly
Although Timmy towers taller
than ten year old talented Tilly
His sisters tactic to teach tap dance to timmy
has proven to be tough and quite tricky
thoughtfully tread Timmy tiptoes toward tilly
teasing his tipsy like tumbling and tedious shimmy
tornadoes and storms
next day sunshine then rain
today cold cloudy
If you want to sign up for the Jupiter mission
Here is the catch: you have to be serious.
And you have to have $100,000 you are willing to lose
Because if the space ship blows up,
Or if the expedition is cancelled,
Of if the sponsor takes the money,
There are no refunds.
Only two people signed up.
A mother and son.
Who could not read the small print
Where all of this stupidity was printed.
I was under a spell,
As I walked through those golden walls,
Under this majestic entrance,
I uncovered this palace;
I discovered library stairs...
Curious! Was my guilty pleasure,
As I climb those stairs,
There is a little portal,
Still curious! I open it,
See! What's behind it,
What gift I may see...
On those mountains...
Under this giant palace.
You won't believe me...
When I declare:
The moment you open that tiny entrance,
You are not in the mountains anymore!
Is it another universe?
Another earth... Or life?
Probably another galaxy...
I guess! have time to investigate...
To decode those continuous puzzles...
Of my tricky pilgrimage!
Homey Domey Gomey Loamy Foamy Stoamy Roamy Doo
Delighted mice are dancing, around the kitty fiddler’s shoe
an hour ago I counted happy rodents numbering up to sixty-two
None of them realizing they are being led to a pot of tasty mousey stew
Words
Are also This..
But words
May be tricky
Seeming to separate
To construct
Destruct..
But still This..
Resonance is
Possibly peace...
Puzzle out the tricky bits;
kloangs can give you fits: so sick!
Here's a form that gets precise,
but when it all clicks, the sound is nice!
----------
The Kloang is a Thai form containing 4 line stanzas with the following layout:
x x x x a x b
x x x x b x a
x x x x b x c
x x x x a x x x c
The Tricky Chirp
The nester bird comes to live,
in a nest, they did not make.
Yet... the bird,
feels right at home
and not alone at all.
The new mom seems surprised,
she can not hide it from
her eyes,
but she continues on
like any mother would.
The brand new baby is larger than the rest.
Taking all the best, and putting the whole nest to the test.
The sad secret of this new life,
this mock, "not my son" from afar...
The more you give, the more they take.
It is a bad-tasting cake.
The dark star is par for the course... and now the jar is empty.
There is no more left for those that belong,
and that is all wrong.
Eating the food, drinking the wine,
and telling the time...
to whom ever walks by
they said hi,
and not high,
or how high?
The mother bird continues,
wondering where father
has gone?
Which is trickier, slipping or sliding?
The ice out there is a hard quarter inch.
Which is riskier, gripping or gliding?
I'm digging down deep in the workroom bench;
I remember they are in here somewhere.
The ice out there is a hard quarter inch.
I've got grip thingies for my boots to wear -
those with the sharp metal points underneath.
I remember they are in here somewhere.
Voila! they still have more than half their teeth!
I recall there's a trick - slogging in spikes.
those with the sharp metal points underneath.
With one step forward, I let out a "Yikes!"
as my keister says "hello" to the floor.
I recall there's a trick - slogging in spikes
A few steps more and I'll open the door,
Which is trickier, slipping or sliding?
as my keister says "hello" to the floor.
Which is riskier, gripping or gliding?
April 8, 2022
Beyond ice and snow, consider this trope
With smiles on your faces, hold on to hope.
The sonnet is a tricky thing to write.
Quatrains, exactly three, must come before
A pair, a couplet, rhyming nice and tight:
A rave of fourteen lines, no less, no more.
True, limericks and haikus, although brief,
Present linguistic challenges as well.
Nantucket does not bring comic relief;
Five/seven/five at times can feel like hell.
Yet nobler is the sonnet’s higher norm;
The quatrains each pack meaning of their own,
Preserving all the while iambic form,
And forcing would-be writers skills to hone.
The words are calling, lovely, dark, and deep;
Alas, the bard could write these in his sleep!
Sophisticated, debonair, dashin'
Epitome of ultra-cool passion
They called him Tricky Dick
Thought himself mighty slick
Slipped on her runway ~ came to... spent, ashen
Tricky squirrels come out of the oaks
Run around in the yard, flashing their tails
Distracting us as their cousins steal our coats,
Grabbing our newspaper, and our best mails.
They have a sneaky way I cannot explain.
They keep us busy in sunshine and rain.
One keeps us looking the wrong way of course.
While his cousin runs off with our cat and our horse.
Our bird feeders are all empty, every single day.
No matter how hard we try to never them this way.
Today a squirrel got our attention drawn to the tomatoes.
While his cousin stole every fixture and garden hose.
They are nimble thieves, con artists and tricksters.
We have tried to trap them, but they ran off with our fixtures.
They have relatives from here to Kalamazoo.
They outsmart us every day, these fluffy tail gurus.
RELATIVELY TRICKY
I needed to choose six relatives
To form a “bubble” plus me.
I wanted to celebrate Christmas
During Covid restrictions you see.
All right, I know that makes seven,
One more than there ought to be.
But, if the police should come to check,
I’ll hide behind the settee.
But how to choose half a dozen
From such an extensive clan?
Well, first, although she’ll moan all day,
I’ll have to invite my Gran.
Now, if I invite Uncle Charlie,
I can’t have Auntie Vi.
They haven’t spoken for thirty years,
Though neither remembers why.
And similarly Cousin Fred
Remains extremely bitter
Since Cousin Jane insulted him
Through the medium of Twitter.
My sister falls out with no-one
So she’ll be there no doubt.
But my brother has seven children
So I guess that rules him out.
Great Aunt Maude must be there,
She’s always spoilt me to bits.
Every year she sends me a sweater
(Though I’ve never had one that fits)
Right, that’s five I’ve chosen
Who won’t cause too much strife.
So who can be the sixth one?
Oh, I’d better invite the wife!
16th November 2020
Six Relatives contest
Sponsor - Caren Krutsinger
There was once a pickpocket named Mickey
Whose technique was quite deft and so tricky
He would bilk you of cash
And away he would dash
Leaving you sobbing o'er yer gin rickey
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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.