Thursday, April 16, 2009

Poetry is softness
To smother regret
It's cruel to remember;
But worse to forget.

14 comments:

  1. Ah.. how can I add to poetry?
    Hmm...

    The odes and the sonnets
    Have aged steeped in time
    The memories they guard still
    Live in rhythm and rhyme.

    But how can we feel
    When writers long gone
    For their pain and their suffering
    Drawn in spoken song.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Though the poets are gone,
    Their works ever be
    Impressed on our memories
    Through damned IOCs!

    ReplyDelete
  3. It looks like this poem
    Has taken a turn
    Instead of being serious
    My eyes are being burned!

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  4. Now now, dear boy,
    I am usually placid
    But my poetry tends
    To go best with antacids

    ReplyDelete
  5. This I didn't know
    The need for these pills
    But you'll have to now foot
    My medical bills

    ReplyDelete
  6. Since you've the gall to mention these bills
    Be they a hundred or maybe just five
    I'll foot them all and take care of your ills
    Assuming, of course, that you leave here alive?

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  7. Hark! Now I'm being threatened
    By the Poetress Lady
    Whose skills in composing
    Are distinctly quite hazy

    If ever a hand
    You lay on me do dare
    I'll call in the cops
    And of you they'll take care

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  8. I beg your kind pardon! My skills are not hazy!
    It's just over time I have grown fairly lazy
    Besides, you will notice, that it is the norm
    That poetry's function is distinct from form!

    The cops, you say?
    Your card's in my hand, kind sir, watch me mark it
    You've got legality, I the black market!

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  9. I change strategy
    For I have connections with
    The Jap yakuza

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  10. The yakuza? Indeed, a highbrow breed
    My associates are not so lofty
    Nor do they have awesome ninja outfits
    Street fighting is the most deadly, you know.
    For this we only need our fists and wits.

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  11. There once was a lady who thought
    With poems and words she had fought
    But she didn't suspect
    The great counter-attack
    For her copyrights I've now all bought

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  12. The fellow who thought he had won me
    Was a terrible poetic blight
    He bought me out with legality
    But I've still got the movie rights!

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  13. And now the dear lady thinks that with film rights
    She can and she has and she will win the fight
    A pity she realises not the hard fact
    That my control over the studios are tight!

    ReplyDelete
  14. So, cheers the dear boy,
    chortling in joy,
    till he realises his lead's
    in cahoots with the lady.

    (uh oh.)

    ReplyDelete