Long time no show,
Silent the music has gone
My puppets wait in a row
the children prefer Pokemon.
Silent the music has gone
As I wait by the road
The children prefer Pokemon.
And I think of my empty abode.
As I wait by the road
my fingers itch to dance
And I think of my empty abode.
this could be my last chance
My fingers itch to dance
My puppets wait in a row.
This could be my last chance
Sigh! Long time no show.
It has been declared by zigzackly that 19th Aug till 31st Aug shall be a Godawful Poetry Fortnight. The party ain't over yet!
GPF- Poyem # 4
I give up!
I am hurting.
From the top of my tired hair
to the tips of my exhausted toes
I am hurting.
Oh how I ache!
Standing up is an ordeal
Sitting down is a woe
Climbing the stairs is something
I wont wish on my foe.
Oh how I ache!
Every muscle aches and hurts
Even the one above the thigh and below the tush,
which groans piteously Every time
I try to stand, sit, rise, walk, climb, bend or push.
I am one big giant bruise,
victim of style abuse.
No more gym shoes
From now on only Jimmy Choos.
[I declare this is NOT a GPF]
Orange was sad,
for it never had no rhyme.
He wished he had a dime
for every time he wished a rhyme.
Fellowship of Red
Was really widespread
How many rhymes of blue,
he never had no clue.
Yellow was so mellow
And loved to eat jell-o.
Green was keen,
A lean mean machine.
Poor Orange only had
Borange and Dorange.
He went around muttering
Gorange, morange, Porange?
It was a fruitless quest,
And he had already guessed
That he had not been blessed
With a rhyme for Orange!
Till he met with Purple,
As lonely as can be
Orange asked him "don’t you ever
Get lonesome like me?"
Purple sighed and said,
"No Durple, Turple for me.
Is there a Zurple by any chance?"
He asked wistfully.
Over this rhyme-less state
They sat in deep contemplation
Till some one said, “Hey look!
What a fabulous Combination!”
Isn’t there really
A rhyme for Orange?
Strange!
It has been declared by zigzackly that 19th Aug till 31st Aug shall be a Godawful Poetry Fortnight.
******
Before Navi Mumbai on the Bombay Poona road
Sits a little suburb called Chembur.
It’s only claim to fame, apart from Chhota Rajan, was
It was also known as the Gas Chamber.
But the scenario has definitely changed of late,
And Chembur is one of the few suburbs with any greenery left
To enjoy. It has parks where every morn laughing denizens meet.
Their laughter in the morning is an excellent way to greet
a new day. The breeze wafts in the parks very gently,
The numerous clinics make sure that their smiles look dazzling dentally.
RK Studios, Geeta Bhavan, and the Central Avenue.
If you wish for a cuppa there is a CCD or Barista for you.
The temples, churches, mosques, in Chembur are galore
But the pubs staying open late seems surely the main allure.
Chembur is truly God’s own suburb as many will aver.
If you happen to visit it some day I will happily give you a tour.
******
And do I think this poem is bad ? Isn't it obvious ?
It has been declared by zigzackly that 19th Aug till 31st Aug shall be a Godawful Poetry Fortnight.
GPF Poyem # 2
At the crack of dawn one bright morn
I found a bird at that early hour
with its little chest heaving and wing a torn
It looked like a trembling wilted flower
“ don’t worry little bird “tenderly I said.
“I mean you No harm” I softly assured
It smiled a little ( or so I imagined)
And wearily it’s trusting eyes were closed
Such is life, I muttered to myself,
It’s the case of survival of the fittest,
But I am not the one to take it sitting down
I will help this poor bird back to its nest.
I stooped and picked up the little body
I could feel it’s heart beat wildly
Was it an angel from my garden
In need of a little help from me?
It stayed with me from dawn to dusk
It trilled its angel songs again
I watched it fly away, with a smile,
Happy to see it free of pain
The gifts of God are showered upon us
The birds, and beasts they heart beguile
As every creation delights the soul
I mourned that only Man is vile.
*****
This poem overflows with cliches. Starting from Crack of Dawn, wilted flower to the final Only Man is vile.
Cliches, forced rhyme, and an attempt to state a universal truth make it a bad poem.
It has been declared by zigzackly that 19th Aug till 31st Aug shall be a Godawful Poetry Fortnight.
*******
Here I await,
in an ecstatic state
perchance you may walk down this lane
Here I mope,
hoping against hope
That all my prayers won’t be in vain
Keeping a watch,
Eager and staunch
Until I see you, here shall I remain.
Your mock frowns
are casting me down
And Are slowly driving me insane.
A love like mine
So steadfast and divine
Is not daunted by your feigned disdain .
Ah! you come in view!
Oh! Who is that with you?
My God! That looks like my friend Dwayne!!
The scoundrel! The Cheat,
Is wearing MY jackeat!
And walking with My love and My great Dane!
The wind let a shriek!
The clouds poured bleak,
Trying to extinguish my blazing pain
Alas! I stand alone
in the eye of cyclone.
Drenched to the bones in the pelting rain.
*******
This has all the ingredients of what I consider a bad poem.
A relentless rhyme. A whole lot of bad poets give undue importance to rhyming. They also like to coin new and strange words for the sake of a rhyme. ( this does not include Ogden Nash and his ilk. )
A lament, this wrings out some sort of universal truths from seemingly ordinary objects and events.( The winds shrieking, the clouds pouring etc )
Exclamation marks. (Ah! Oh ! Alas!!)
The rain has inspired the haikus posted here.
Will keep adding to them.
**
Little paper boat
Bravely rides the swirling stream.
June is here.
**
Teachers droning in the class
on rhythms and rhymes.
Butterflies are dancing in the rain.
**
Hi folks ,
this is a work under construction. Any suggestions will be most welcome.
--------------
Among the reeds,
munching the weeds,
Freddy the frog sat
singing his love song
Ribbid ! Ribbid! Ribbid!
Freddy was a frog
with blue blood in his veins,
His great great uncle Ness.
had kissed a true Princess.
“When the sun meets the rain,
then under a rainbow
The magic takes place”,
Freddy was told
by his grandma Grace!
“Here I am and
there the rainbow,
but where
oh! where is
the princess mine!”
He looked skywards
for a heavenly sign.
Jogging along she came,
on the winding path ahead,
in a red track suit and
a red band round her head
Panting hard, with
a hand on her heart
she slumped against a tree.
Freddy quivered
like a young tadpole!
His indomitable heart
joyously sang,
she the one! This is she!
Ribbid ! Ribbid! Ribbid!
Freddy hopped closer,
and uttered a respectful
greeting-
Ribbid! Ribbid ! Ribbid!
She stifled a scream
then bent to look at him
The sun, the rain and rainbow,
in fact,
the whole dang universe
seemed to conspire
to assist.
So Freddy leaped
like a lightening
And smacked
one ardent kiss on her lips.
Oh ! she said !
Ooooo!! she cooed
with love light in her eyes,
and tenderly whispered
in his eager ear
“Ribbid! Ribbid! Ribbid!”
Have you ever
Held your patience to test
To put together
A broken China doll?
Join you may with loving care
Make near invisible the cracks
And erase many a tear
But never again can make it whole!
For those of us
Who seek to break
That which we have
For that which we don’t
It may pay
To try and bring
Together some smithereens
And from it to know
A mirror cracked
May be rejoined
But can never reflect
A whole!
-Avi
A few old Limericks which belong here.
1.
I have this problem you see-
Every one I meet with I disagree -
There are different kinds-
With different sets of minds-
I wish the world had a few mores like- ME !!
2.
I thought I would write a limerick or two
As it was a holiday-I had nothing else to do
Rhyming words is such a fun
I can think of hundred and one-
It’s the form and the meter and the rhythm that I cant quite get a grip on to.
3.
Such dear little girl was Fanny.
So- trusting –so sweet –real honey.
She met wicked Clive
Who took her for a Drive
And her mommy is now a Granny.
4.
Good ,Bad & Ugly went to town
Their sorrows they wanted to drown-
In a bottle of cheap booze
But they fought o’er a Flooze
Now Good N Bad are Dead- & Ugly has left the town
5.
Poor Einstine was sad,
His math book was all that he had
His teachers they failed him
His friends they nailed him
Because E=mc2 was just too rad !!!!
6.
Leo Da Vinci went to Florence
With a plan to impress the Lawrence-
Of Medici you know-
But had to run from the law
Thus-Poor Leo Vinci Left Florence.
Express Delivery
The poet sat armed
With his pod and pen
Facing the fearsome
deadlines again
The poet was a master
The poet was a tease
He knew very well
Just How to please
“Give them mush”
he was fond of saying.
“Mush is the way to get ‘em”.
He sat with his pen
waiting for the mush
to come out surging
With the familiar gush
The hunger, the craving
The passion, the yen
But none poured
Out of his seasoned pen!
He shook his pen,
and dipped his pen
In the bottle of mush
Again and again,
Oh No! The bottle,
was dry as a bone!
He was out of mush
He thought with a groan.
The days went by
The pen stayed dry,
No longer could wait
in this desperate state,
So he set out to dial
two eight eight eight
eight eight eight eight!
“Mush-R-Us?
rush a refill of mush
Premium,
Anything is fine.
This is a matter of
life and death
My mush-less muse is
Gasping for breath!
So Pronto, right now!
And don’t ask me HOW! ”
***
"Ding Dong!" He Sprang
to the door in a rush
Outside there stood
The Goddess of Mush!
A radiant vision,
from the top of her head
To her stiletto heel,
Slowly the Goddess
Sashayed in the room
Her eyes held a promise
Of an exquisite doom.
She had shaken poor poet
To his foundation
As she stretched out her arms
in an ardent invitation.
She kissed him on the lips
amused to see him blush
The poet had dissolved
In a puddle of mush.
