Born in Glasgow
And he almost spoke the King's English.
He became a man of letters
Some of them even spelled korrectly
A teacher to trade. What did he teach?
Probably very little.
He was known as the cure for insomnia
Whenever he dared to launch into an anecdote
For some time he dabbled in verse
Which sadly went from bad to worse
His weak attempts at versifying
Were far from being gratifying
What was even a much bigger crime
Were his feeble efforts at trying to rhyme
And his wonky use of metre
Just was not the least bit better.
His most engaging hobby was bridge
More bridge over troubled waters
And one many wish he had never crossed.
At any get together he was always the last
To be asked to sing
The signal for guests to go and get their coats.
Categories:
versifying, humorous,
Form: Bio
A poetaster I will always be
Renowned throughout eternity
For wonky metres and dodgy rhymes
Amongst my other versifying crimes
Like dull images and dreary words
Not to the liking of animals and birds
Whom Orpheus charmed with lyrics rare
While my efforts they just cannot bear
McGonagall is the master to whom I bow down
The man who merits the peerless crown
Of poetry so ludicrously solemn
That it earns derision in any newspaper column
His Forth Bridge production garners distinction
For drawing down mockery on its versification.
I must thank the website to which I belong
In allowing me to keep singing my song
That honour I bestow upon Poetry Soup
With its generosity towards my glutinous gloop
Categories:
versifying, fun, humor, satire,
Form: Rhyme
When I lay anguished with all my muscles aching
And my mind plunging into the eddies of grief,
Poetry came to me as an unexpected guest, as a whiff of breeze.
It was like spotting an oasis in the sterility of a blistering desert.
What scope poetry provided me, soon I happily discerned.
It decorated my emotions with personalized symbols.
Images varied came dancing to my great surprise.
Music arrived soothing to embellish, energize and overwhelm.
Then my chest heavy with melancholic thoughts
Opened to layers and layers of positive thoughts,
Transcending the bounds of hard-hitting realities.
My eyes opened to the charm of nature conjuring up celestial images,
And I started versifying every thought n’ scene in rhythmic notes.
.
Never more the surging tears flowed out from my eyes.
My rampaging despair got vaporized, making a hasty retreat,
Like an enemy vanquished and its bugle falling silent.
Poetry, turn not your face on me, fill me with rhyme!
Had it not been for you and your mesmerizing charms,
I could never have broken free of the fetters,
That chained my captive, melancholy-stricken heart.
Categories:
versifying, appreciation, best friend, depression,
Form: Free verse
Samuel Johnson of dictionary fame
versifying was another game
Poems of satire of his day
coming to London to have his say
Categories:
versifying, people, poetry,
Form: Clerihew
Poet
Intelligent, sagacious
Thinking, writing, expressing
Insight, perception; knowledge, wisdom
Versifying, rhyming, musing
Ethical, moral
Poetry
©Mahtab Bangalee
Chattogram
07/11/2022
Categories:
versifying, poetry, poets,
Form: Diamante
I have come to a bitter conclusion
I’m not writing what editors want,
My rejections are coming in profusion
It’s clear I am not a poetry savant.
I fear my muse is sabotaging me
With insignificant verse and rhyme,
She recently started charging a fee
For more than three lines at a time.
I think I’ll give her the old heave ho
To strike out versifying on my own,
But I hate to kick her out the door
She’s good with a rare homophone.
Maybe I shouldn’t blame my muse
For when I’m inclined to boggle a line,
She provides a convenient excuse
Then she’ll give me a word that’s fine.
Written June 22, 2022
Categories:
versifying, muse, poems, writing,
Form: Light Verse
I've mused for hours trying to develop something brilli-ant,
And have tossed aside many topics as being irrelev-ant.
The subject of "ants" caught my fancy as being signific-ant,
Tho' 'tis a matter of which I'm somewhat ignor-ant!
I pen this with tongue in cheek and am a bit nonchal-ant,
And enter territory at which I'm very nonconvers-ant.
I'll broach the theme and maybe we'll become so cogniz-ant,
That folks'll marvel at my savvy for being so observ-ant!
I trust I'll be forgiven if I seem a bit insouci-ant,
But I relish the chance to be a little flamboy-ant!
My spouse opines that such versifying is ineleg-ant,
Mortified that folks might think me a tippling inebri-ant!
If here and there I've been some redund-ant,
And some words and phrases are not exactly trench-ant,
Please be merciful to me your humble serv-ant,
For upon the issue of "ants" I'm not a savvy sav-ant!
Hallelujah! 'Tis the end of this rhyme and I'm euphori-ant!
This verse won't win Poem of the Month per my account-ant.
But, no mind, 'tis fun now and then to play the miscre-ant,
Penning outrageous verse for which I have a "pen"ch-ant!
Categories:
versifying, funnyme,
Form: Rhyme
Goddess
Adelaide Crapsey
Versifying unknown souls
With tinge of dawn
Poetess
Categories:
versifying, art, inspirational, life, on
Form: Cinquain
Oh, was it really possible that we’d ever pen, or
is it necessary to debate our in-sensitivities,
the ups and downs of life, being sandwiched between
our likes and dislikes of a certain form in writing?
To a degree, of versifying, we have the so-called
“To each his own” ability
and power to attract the readers of the mind,
to fully enjoy us, in our chosen form.
Some would profess they dislike haiku
...’cos of its shortness and simplicity
and most likely, many would prefer free verse,
than to listen to the enchanted soul of rhyme
...’Cos of its un-metered style and absolute freedom;
yet I, the handsome I (ahem!) do love, not prefer
the beholder of my beauty, my beautiful wife (ahem!)---
a thousand times over, and greater than those few.
Ahh, the exquisite beauty of poetry,
the subtle meaning half hidden
in ones’ lines, and totally not seen in its form
but most certainly, lies in the eye of the reader.
Categories:
versifying, funny, husband, love, on
Form: Prose Poetry