What battle-worn baby boomers lived through
Gentle Gen Z rug rats don’t have a clue.
Growing up street smart in subdivision
Without much parental supervision.
Boomers devoured books and magazines,
While Gen Z distil life thrills from their screens.
Going outdoors? Too much hassle whereat
Life downloads faster in an online chat.
Boomers had to climb to reach the summit -
“Too long to bother”, say Gen Z, “Damn it!”
Boomers’ love connections - hard at first sight,
Compared to Tinder swiping left or right.
OMG! Gen Z dares to attach
To someone who, in fact, is not a match.
With boomers arduous life played hard to get:
Before achieving breakthrough, break a sweat.
Gen Z have it all savvy and clever,
Their creed is wifi speed, faster than ever.
Solutions to life hurdles? Browse the net!
Sophisticate AI - better yet.
In short, the generation gap in place
As history repeats, fast forward pace.
But we unconditionally love you,
As grandparents and baby boomers too!
Part One: What I Love
After seven decades I am satisfied
with the me I see, the inner self is beautified,
wounds of youth have healed well
and every scar to no longer dwell,
they were absorbed by tears I cried~
I write the words by which I tell
stories rich and maybe plied,
but absolutely bona fide!
Part Two: What I Regret
I admit I used to runaround,
party and carouse until I ran aground
against days-long blackouts
and poor decision fade-outs,
knowing my next stop was a grave mound~
Momma said the only way out
was for me to turnaround,
and become a sober devout.
Part Three: What I Hope
I have no grandiose plans for the future
because the future is unsure,
the present becomes my habitat
and I have no desire for idle chit chat,
time grows short, there is no cure
to stop death’s scat* whereat~
I will sing the words allure,
and dance upon the welcome mat.
* scat: singing jazz; the singer substitutes nonsense syllables for the words of the song and tries to sound like a musical instrument
I want to be out between
Past the passing
virtually unreal
Take me as i is
Whereas is where as whereat isn't
squeeze the ease until is queasy
Sent a letter a to the lone
just like me
There is no one home
Circa April 17th, 2120, or 1820 military time,
yours truly attempted crafting id est feeble rhyme
far from madding crowd, nevertheless yet lovely
bones and flesh quite spry, still considered prime
(moost procreative, prodigious, and progressive)
stage, since (case ye didn't know) approximately
eight score orbitz round Earth's sun still noontime
chronologically analogous to protracted lunchtime
whereat the average offspring jetson or (daughter)
Born twenty years into twenty second century alive
and well (still hashtagged as precocious) with drive
to safely, sidestep, and surmount establishmentarian
archaic, formulaic, and mosaic Judaic/Christian give
wry master of words (me) take poetic license to jive
reasonably rhyming nope heart tickle early misthrive
moost definitely dirty deeds done dirt cheap (trick)
super tramping space cowboy lobbing power-drive
re: frequently innocent prelapsarian double entendre
(Jean Jacques Rousseau) Noble Savage he doth strive
even though hanky panky tinged entire his/her story,
Homo sapiens animal husbandry hastily did wive.
The petals’
Soft streaming
Aloft dreaming
Colors painted in mind
Lovers intertwined
Their taintless imaginations
Drainless infatuations
Obsessions with my feet
Reflections deep
Coves upon which
They meditate
Groves whereat
They levitate
Like sparkles, pink
Heartful sync with love
Ahhh!!!
*Foot Bath Chronicles*
Amalgamate my tears into the Sea
of Tears, erect along the sea the city
in which the echo moans out of pity
for me, for you, for us, for I love thee
against my will. Connect the empty streets
to the crossroads whereat we never
shall cross the pathways. Oh, how to sever
all ties with you, to tear the receipts
of your love potion in my blood, the scroll
of honey spells you put on me to pieces,
so I could turn your gold back into faeces
of bat, a toad’s spit and a charcoal.
The streets ran wild, the city fell bereft,
the sea went dry, my tears only left.
Love Potion Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Julia Ward
just the same ring
with a round of row zees
awash manicured lawns
with generic grass seed
that doth spring
to life with synthesized,
(yet deadly) chemicals meant
to guarantee wrest
ting control might and subdue
so nature forced
to become nsync from in vest
ment plot purchase
as proving grounds to test
a money bagged well paid
laborer at leisure time
sprawled asleep in comfy hammock
a much needed self deserved rest
whereat successful proof
evinces "American dream"
no matter quest
necessitates becoming linkedin
with fast paced lifestyle
attendant ulcer inducing "pest"
keeping up appearances,
where younglings nest
scolding woe begotten kith
if flawless grounds get messed
by clod hopping kids and/or smart pets
upsetting calculus figuring formula
determining trigonometric
landscaping tangential
to maintaining perfectly
squared off turf especially lest
the neighbors cease becoming hospitable
and stop offering gold plated invitations
to such honorable humble guest.
A quick and easy (makeshift, albeit very temporary)
Cheap Trick would suffice in the interim
(which might entail many generations)
to rock a Super Tramp off The Farm.
Lo and behold a panacea arrived
in form of Jethro Tull. Beastie Boys
(more or less marauding hooligan gangs
comprised of Arctic Monkeys)
possessed an uncanny verve zeroing
in on the challenge to enable Crowd
source sing. They designed, hand
crafted, and linkedin all known know
ledge about mathematics and physics. One
contrivance edged out other equally
farcical gizmo. Via some lack of clarification
Badfinger referred both to the longer
of two needles pointers plus included
the entire mechanism. Individuals
would no longer find themselves
in Dire Straits getting someplace
with markedly greater accuracy.
Sooner or later a confluence of
beginners dumb luck witnessed
a Motley Crue, whereat brainstorm
(of course in tandem with consciousness
expanding material) yielded a great
burst of inventiveness within The
Human League, though after end
less modifications credit for
the handy dandy blues clues
pocket watch allotted
to a plethora of anonymous minds.
Brother and sister crickets please recognize grasshoppers,
katydids, and locusts as part of well schooled, politely
ordered named league known as Orthoptera, (pronounced
or th hop tara), which means 'straight wings'), and make
sounds of music for listening pleasure of females.
This method producing shrill tones (generating different songs
for various occasions) occurs by rubbing legs, wings
or other body parts together. Scientists studying
these special insects refer to WhatsApp vibrating,
uber Twittering, and Reddit Shutter flying process as stridulating.
The phonetic simplified syllables uttered as – s try jewel late ting.
Twangy Shap chatting, Kindled Insta gramming, and humming
readiness for hopscotching, skipping to ma Lou. Kickstarter
Hashtag motive (resonates Soundcloud), whereat
musicians meant as swan song. Yelping Joyus Live Pinterest
ting bings trigger warbling created by crimping wings
along teeth at bottom of other wing. A entire playlist
(tunes available for many occasions) only Linkedin to male ensemble.
First and foremost on the agenda,
would be to locate an affordable,
casual and favorable eatery
tubby agreeable to our taste
indubitable choice without
(any formal dress code),
nor further haste.
Strait away to the great weigh
(or if vegetarian – whey)
station of delectable food
where the exquisite, expertise, and exotic
high steak king a claim on Michelin Guide,
Gayot Guide/Gault Millau, American
Automobile Association, Forbes
Travel Guide reputation good.
Testimony to legendary praise
explaining why patrons travel
for countless days
transforming him/her
into steady state,
where he/she shuffles along
in a dishabille quotidian famished daze
far and wide culinary craze
out of this world wide web, the wispy Lyft
wafts trace steamy filament up braise
our noses,
whereat heads nod affirmation i.e. ayes.
Even before making a glad entrance
(into Restaurant) complete
a host of fresh, enticing,
and delicious aromas serve as a treat.
Delicate, foreign, hefty indescribable
ole factory stimulants delight
infiltrating thru swinging kitchen doors
holding us smell bound,
though thin filaments invisibly light.
prior to passing thru cervix, buck naked bare
this grandson of Aaron, the sole heir –
foreshortened to Sol Aire
evinced (as shown via ultra sound),
which at birth became crystal clear,
an obsessive compulsive prone
human being, endear
ringly cute as a baby monkey possessed fear
some countenance tipping the scales needled gear
greater or lesser than seven pounds
(minus or plus a few ounces)
with a mass of dreaklocked hair,
otherwise a gangly sack of many a lovely bone,
whereat obstetricians
could not help himself but jeer
thus upon exiting birth cana; found him twirling loose
kinky follicular fibers accord
ding to medical records,
a combination of his being bored
(with a really lee super strong arm penchant)
to sport dreadlocks, tough as hemp cord
an anomaly, which no app could com pare,
boot nonetheless highly adored
resembling inimitable indestructible filaments,
when taut could lift off the ground a board
dillow, which no reference manual could address
even topnotch experts queried, could not explain
asper the invisible nemesis – i.e. electrical
impulses faux nattering nabobs of mien nativity
whereat unseen thriving sensational riffraff
quenched powerhouse ousting nestled milk
maids, or rather pressing said resources,
sans vitality into dangerous, frivolous,
and horrendous self destructive antics,
where ballistic charges drugged eminent
domain former nerve cell size occupants,
thoroughly re-engineering sense and sensibility
with pride fullness and prejudice on par
with dousing one with opiate completely
upends functioning healthily, judging lovingly,
and managing productively versus expending
precious time and energy self absorbed
into manic, neurotic, and/or psychotic actions,
manners, thoughts, et cetera, which irrationality
got embedded within the neurological interstices,
even as of this moment hound me
akin to wild beasts circling ever closer
to launch mortal kombat against their very housing.
Whose corpse this is I think I know.
Its grave is in the churchyard, though;
It will not see us stopping here
To hear its ghost cry out in woe.
My little boy must think it's *****
To stop without a graveyard near
Between the woods and frozen lake
Whereat the corpse's upon its bier.
He gives my hand a wrenching shake
To ask if there's some mistake.
The only other soul's the shade
Of coming Death for his end's sake .
The corpse is grisly, foul, and decayed,
But I have Death to then dissuade,
And pleas to make because I'm afraid,
And pleas to make because I'm afraid.
Opened to smile,
Mouth wide, a while,
Then heard his cold lie,
Mum, for you I will die,
love you being my final sigh.
Recalling it right,
1990, a night,
In labour, in pain,
In tears, in distrain
At deathbed, along came.
A second born,
A boy, happy I became.
Seconds by, his cry,
Ooh mama! Me whereby?
Minutes by, time fly,
Now grown, hereby nearby.
Mama this, mama that,
Mama please, mama whereat,
Time gone, mama ageing,
Soon come, mama dying.
Hear mine, a moment,
From heart, a testament,
They lie, in search of wealth,
They love, in wait for ya death,
Now go marry,
A girl, a berry,
A lady, like a jetty,
To help carry,
My body, so heavy.
When we hold a world whereat it's leaders, so to speak...
Worship statues, themselves, silver as gold, multi-coloured
Warped castles power as dust be their, paper lust ? then, what
Should one expect but yes, the darkest of venues indeed; orbiting
Circling, his black hole; chasing furry bunnies with cleavers for paws
Uncle Mad Hatter and Aunt Jezabel; vote for me you see an inside track ?
Old money honey willed as dispersed in a hearse of a verse by, a gaffy goat.
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.