Can We Talk About Poetry?

Ian Fortytwo

A Poet, Writer and eclectic Reader.
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Somewhere on this mortal coil.
The picture from the 300 word, has inspired me to write a poem.

Travelling on a Canal.

The narrow boat motors sedately along,
The thistle and cobweb enmeshed bank,
All so very picturesque and photographic,
Ripples spread evenly from bank to bank.


The chug chug of engines reasonably quiet,
Sheep on one bank, cows on the other,
A rural scene of an age gone by,
Each lock has to be maneuvered manually.


Further along on another bank a fair of old,
Fairground music adding to the atmosphere,
Ducks cross the canal serenely with eloquence,
A cottage pub sits near enticingly.


After a revitalised rest and refreshments,
We travel onwards into unknown territory,
An apple core splashes into the water,
Some children wave from a bridge.


After a few more hours night draws in,
And we snuggle into our sleeping bags,
A restful dreamless sleep engulfs us,
A beautiful dawn beckons another day.
 

Ian Fortytwo

A Poet, Writer and eclectic Reader.
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Somewhere on this mortal coil.
A New Year Brings Hope.

Bong! Midnight is almost here.
Bong! Fireworks crackling about.
Bong! Let's hope the new one is better.
Bong! Singing Auld Lang Syne.
Bong! Peace, calm and harmony in the world.
Bong! Shake hands with a stranger.
Bong! More fireworks bang and crack.
Bong! Let the news be more cheering.
Bong! Let's drink more carefully.
Bong! Poetry flow freely from our pens.
Bong! Let the whole world rejoice together.
Bong! Let friends and family know that you care.

Happy New Year everybody
Let us sparkle through the year.
 

Ian Fortytwo

A Poet, Writer and eclectic Reader.
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A Triplet of Limericks.

There was an old man who lived on the moon,
He thought he was a silly old spoon,
He bought a tie,
Had a great sigh,
But people knew he was looney buffoon.


An old man bought a didgeridoo,
He wanted to lure a kangaroo,
It hopped,
And stopped,
Because both wanted a poo.


There was an old man who lived on a barge,
Who lived often on bread, jam and marge,
The colour was pink,
Yet it caused a stink,
The merry old man is still at large.
 

Ian Fortytwo

A Poet, Writer and eclectic Reader.
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Somewhere on this mortal coil.
Tears and Laughter for a Queen.

I stand here with tears running down my face,
I'm stunned and cannot move onwards,
People try to urge me beyond my threshold,
Why has this happened now at this moment,
Her peaceful laughter filled reign is unique,
I still weep for the unfairness of it all,
The world needs laughter not tears,
And now laughter breaks into my tears,
I can move on now, so can the whole world.
 

Ray Zdybrow

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Location
Eusterby, UK
Disclaimer: Light verse. Any resemblance to real events, or any persons living or dead, are accidental. For entertainment purposes only. Not a life saver


Kim Stanley Robinson went to the shops

And purchased a mask and a pistol

And a bonny black mare, and a three–cornered hat

And hid by the high road to Bristol.

Sing Hi! Holiday! For Kim Stanley Robinson,

Kim Stanley Robinson, Ho!

Kim Stanley Robinson, sing me a song

And a-highwaymanning we will go!


Kim Stanley Robinson held up the stage,

And told them to “Stand and deliver!”

He put all the gentlemen into a rage

And sent all the ladies a’quiver.

Sing Hi! Holiday! For Kim Stanley Robinson,

Kim Stanley Robinson, Hey!

Kim Stanley Robinson, gather the loot

And together we’ll gallop away!


Kim Stanley Robinson rode to an inn

But the inn was all shuttered and dark

So he drew from his saddle his old saddle-flask

And sat on a bench in the park.

Sing Hi! Holiday! For Kim Stanley Robinson,

Kim Stanley Robinson, Yeah!

Kim Stanley Robinson, pour me a draught

And I’ll drink to your health, good Sir!

Sing Hi! Holiday! for Kim Stanley Robinson,

Kim Stanley Robinson - how?

Kim Stanley Robinson, Kim Stanley Robinson

Kim Stanley Robinson, POW!
 

Rafellin

Independent Author & Publisher
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Oct 29, 2013
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598
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West Sussex, UK
My first book was a poetry collection. Never been clever enough to do haiku, though.

Anyway, here's something on the lighter side from that book.

Dark In Here, Isn’t It?

I am the dark that fills your room
All your fears shrouded in gloom
At night I chuckle as I wait for you
Nowhere to hide, nothing you can do

I parade your teddies in medieval hose
Raise the dust that tickles your nose
That three in the morning fatal disease?
It’s only my shadows trying to please

Oh I am the dark that happy wet thing
That dampens the pillows to which you cling
Don’t fear me my love, I’m only foolin’
It’s the thing under the bed that really is drooling

Nightly sweats and moonlit tears
It’s all entertainment to me my dear
What you fear I summon with delight
And they only hide when you turn on the light

So good night, sleep tight
And don’t forget
That I am the dark
And I’m not done with you yet…
 

Perky

Member
Joined
Dec 28, 2021
Messages
18
A Ramshackle Cottage

A jolly woman,
A tired man,
A fragile child,
All in the old house.

The kerosene lamp,
The spilled oil,
The spilled black blood,
All in the old house.

A Lullaby,
The phony blessing,
An immaculate kiss,
All in the old house.

Unconditional obedience,
Negotiable effort,
The cuttable photo,
All in the old house.

The reddened skies,
The broken glass,
Memories in pictures,
All in today's house.

Kerker couches,
Burnt chairs,
Torn curtains,
All in today's house.

Broken loves,
The traumas made worse,
And soiled paintings,
All in today's house.

Hopes blown away,
The muffled desires,
Shards of Heart,
All in today's house.
 

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