Friday poetry day - No limericks!

[shaunbhoy]

Oh gie me a shillin' for some fags
and I'll pay yer back on Thursday,
but if you wait till Saturday
I'm expecting a divvy from the Harpenden Building Society

Ewan McTeagle

[vetran]

and in honour of Sprite boy:

A candy bar.
A piece of cake.
A lollipop.
A chocolate shake.

A jelly donut.
Chocolate chips.
Some gummy worms
and licorice whips.

A candy cane.
A lemon drop.
Some bubblegum
and soda pop.

Vanilla wafers.
Cherry punch.
My mom slept in
while I made lunch.

--Kenn Nesbitt

[vetran]

wow this is all new
I have never composed Haiku
hoping this will do

Its not good enough?
should offend Owlhoot as well
Then Owlhoot's feet smell.

[MadDawg]

May I write haiku
to avoid a limerick
Who made owlhoot god?

It is not Friday.
Owlhoot is pretending he's
Robinson Crusoe.

[Bunk]

In honour of Breaking Bad starting again on Sunday, Ozymandias by Percy Bysshe Shelley.

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

[EternalOptimist]

A cup, a smile, a dainty fist
Then a smile no more
A life of pain and troubles
A bridge and sandy shore

A cup, a smile, a dainty fist
Then suddenly no more
Will I some day meet him
On that distant Golden shore

[cojak]

May I write haiku
to avoid a limerick
Who made owlhoot god?

[bless 'em all]

May I write haiku
to avoid a limerick
Who made owlhoot god?

[nomadd]

Been a while since we had this, so here's one to start with, Break, Break, Break by Alfred Lord Tennyson, written after a good friend of his, Arthur Hallam, died aged 22.

O wonder!
How many goodly creatures are there here!
How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world,
That has such people in't.

Typifies CUK General, I feel.

[OwlHoot]

Been a while since we had this, so here's one to start with, Break, Break, Break by Alfred Lord Tennyson, written after a good friend of his, Arthur Hallam, died aged 22.

Break, break, break,
On thy cold gray stones, O Sea!
And I would that my tongue could utter
The thoughts that arise in me.

O, well for the fisherman's boy,
That he shouts with his sister at play!
O, well for the sailor lad,
That he sings in his boat on the bay!

And the stately ships go on
To their haven under the hill;
But O for the touch of a vanish'd hand,
And the sound of a voice that is still!

Break, break, break
At the foot of thy crags, O Sea!
But the tender grace of a day that is dead
Will never come back to me.