I've just found this thread
I've read every post
But now my poor head
Is hurting the most
Lots of luck reading some of the stuff I've posted. Welcome to a2k.
flies in the ointment, mill on the floss
life's a disappointment, considering our loss
apples though candied, are apples the same
platitudes are bandied, but it's only a game
Welcome Tarah, it's good to see you again... I'm glad you found this thread
Singing woke me
Sun is bright.
Puppy requests
"to go out."
Feeling joyful,
Grateful, too.
Want to share it
with all of you.
fill up a bowl with words if you must
stir them sincerely with humor and fun
or seriously mix them in ways that are just
and a batter of spontaneous poem has begun
Tony the Tiger
has nothing on me.
See me roar
I'm shaking the tree.
And, yet in the quiet
A kitten I see.
On Monday I fly
To Florida's sun
And then I will try
To have lots of fun
To Florida, Tarah?
Can't wait to see
The Brit on the floss,
of a bending palm tree.
Lots of new folks here. Welcome.
Hey, Franc wrote a poem on the Limerick thread
And all in French too, every word, be it said
So if you get bored with this English expression
You can look over there, and try French, as digression
That language is tres belle and ancien and chic
And I'm sure you'll get fluent in less than a week
my brain's a trench
loaded with refuse and english
no room for french
to my remorse and anguish
i'm such a dolt
and this you guys can publish
it gets my goat
to be so full of rubbish
I gather in London we're having a meeting
The 1st day of May, we'll be drinking and eating
In the Penderell's Oak, we'll be laughing the most
And if you're not there, we'll give you a toast!
Today I'll dance with alcohol
Within my vessels hold
And fine young wenches in my arms
Until evening grows old
Then I'll lay down on the ground
And wait for a world of pain
As alcohol burns up inside
And everything was in vain
I tried to fool, a fool became
I tried to steal, she stole my charm
But now I know, in this lover's game
That wantonness must guide my arm
So now I'm leavin' to execute my plan
Drink some beers and stick it to the man
In the spirit of rebellion I'll shout it out for true
Cause rock 'n' roll's the western 'quivalent of kung fu
Ha-yia!
it's gone
we've lost it
nowhere to be found
vanished
so quietly
nary a sound
seen it?
or heard it?
no traces, no clues
so quaint
so old fashioned
so yesterday's news
the horror of war
Spontaneous poems
In hundreds, a bastion
What happens when it ends
Spontaneous combustion?
ah but WILL it end old fred;
when the river bend
sees the ocean spread,
can it be truly dead
or greater things portend?
what, me rhyme?
So many poems
my eyes are blurry.
Words tumble through cyberspace,
some witty, some profound,
but to my knowledge,
poems haven't rhymed in
a century.
poems have the right to rhyme
in any clime or time
maybe they don't gotta
but perhaps they oughtta
