Poems

it says iambic, my old chum,
please don't succumb
to metering
that's teetering

to hear it, read it back aloud,
and please the crowd
with clever rhymes
that aren't crimes

hmm, I despair you're just not there,
but to be fair
a limerick
might do the trick

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it says iambic, my old chum
ta-Dum ta-Dum,
you hear the drum?
ugh, don't be dumb

to hear it, read it back aloud
your accents proud
and words endowed
you'll please the crowd

yes! that technique will do the trick
through thin and thick
you can't? Then stick
to limerick

the caravel groans and repels
the torrent as it floods the bow
the cannons, more than useless now
are tossed about between the swells

the sails are satin for their graves
a lightning strikes the broken mast
his face outlined in pale blue cast
rain drenched, the curls had lost their waves

so beautiful, he cannot drown!
what can she do? will Neptune know?
no matter, she will not let go
and as the caravel goes down

she cradles him, unconscious, hurt
and carries him towards the shore
she knows not what she has in store
nor the insignia on his shirt

he's on the beach, a final shove
the angry waves hiss and complain
and now back home, how to explain
to Neptune: Daddy, I'm in love!

I simply said: my dear Concierge
this acrid smell must be the scourge
of a malevolent, dull dunce
please do take care of this at once
my accusation is not false
how can you say that, that takes balls

does this hotel intend to gouge
cause looking at this invoice, ouch
no, my dear fella, face the music
if you're intending to abuse...eek!
what is that thing the color purple
the smell of it will make me burp...ill
is what I'll get take it away
I think I simply cannot stay

do you suggest you can replenish?
concierge, I'm neither Dutch nor Flemish!
you cannot buy me with your silver
you're simply wishing to conceal there

but here's one thing I cannot grasp
this is a bee, or it's a wasp?
it's stripes appear more beige than orange
no, I'm not getting within bow range
besides, when I start seeing beige
it is as if I took a page
the storyline so acrid
I guess there's nothing sacred