Tag: Poem

Furious Fowl

If your birds are upset,
And some swine are snooping round,
It makes total sense,
That a catapult be found,
Into which you place,
The angry avians you see,
And watch each porcine face,
When hit by flung poultry.

Now you may be in wonder,
Why it is the birds don't fly,
"Why a catapult?" you ponder,
Instead of wings to get them by,
But it really doesn't matter,
I really wouldn't ask,
They're each mad as a hatter,
They might take you to task.

So with careful aim,
Teach the pigs what for.
These birds aren't tame,
They are angry, out for war.
No wooden tower,
Or icy outcrop will be safe,
When wrathful feathery power,
Lays the porky land to waste.

Jonah

I rediscovered this poem lurking in my files the other day and I don't remember the circumstances that led to it being written or the inspiration behind it. It's a little different to things that I'm used to writing. Let me know what you think.

A young man named Jonah once set out to sea, to sail the seven seas,

and at no point did he,
ever doubt whether she would be waiting,
for he knew somewhere far and away from his heart was the beautiful girl of his dreams.

So with compass in hand,
and a gold wedding band, he set sail.
Now the first night was fine as he travelled the waves, sleeping under the stars,

but the next blew a storm,
that did little to warn him of danger.
As he tried to hold course through the rain and the swells with prayers to Gods and the stars,

the storm, it grew worse,
the hull it did burst and Jonah was thrown to the depths.
For a week he was drifting through briny demise with nought but the sea to be found.

With the sun beating brutal,
and all hope left futile he drifted,
when a long came a ship full of friendship and food to save him before he had drowned.

As they fed him to health,
they shared knowledge of wealth and desires.
Now these new friends he had found were not sailors, but pirates of ill intent,

and when Jonah came round,
to see pirates abound he got frightened.
but with nothing to do, no escape to be made and all of his energy spent,

Jonah succumbed to greed,
joined the piratical breed and sailed on.
Two score years and ten, he would sail through the foam, plundering all in his wake,

until one day a tale,
met his ears over ale in a tavern.
It told of a girl with such beauty and grace that none could hope to forsake.

Jonah set down his mind,
that this beauty he'd find and they'd wed.
So a pirate named Jonah then set out to sea, to sail the seven seas,

in search of girl who,
somewhere in the world, he would marry.
Jonah knew somewhere far and away from his heart was that beautiful girl of his dreams;

with his cutlass in hand,
and a gold wedding band he set sail.
Just out of port, and outnumbered by far, Jonah's crew were caught quite unware—

revenge it would seem,
was to shatter his dream in a flash.
A merchant, quite bold, had sought Jonah's crew to reclaim what he saw as fair,

so a battle ensued,
one that Jonah would lose, he was sure.
After some time had passed, Jonah's ship lay a wreck, not a pirate alive to retell,

the tale of his plight,
and the fantastic fight they had fought.
Jonah lay with his pride, both bleeding and torn, in puddle of blood where he'd fell,

As his eyes closed up tight,
the ship sailed through the night to the shore.
When he neared the end, his ship came aground on the shore he had left as a youth,

where there stood a girl,
who had traveled the world, for her love.
A young maiden fogotten was stood on the shore, a smile of love as her proof,

and together they soared,
to the stars where he'd moored, young Jonah and his true love, Marie.
A young man named Jonah once set out to sea, to sail the seven seas,

and at no point did he,
ever doubt whether she would be waiting.
For he knew somewhere far and away from his heart was the beautiful girl of his dreams.

Intervention

I’m pulled away.

Can’t stay,

won’t stay.

Won’t make time

for the things that I‘m

supposed to say.

 

The trust is wrong.

Same song,

loose tongue.

Forgotten lines

remind me what shines.

Just sing along.

 

You say we’ve all got it made.

Sunny days just fade away.

No more time to sit and play.

We’ve lost the war to win you over.

 

But you still want your way,

and your hand is fanned so close.

No more moves to fix the dose.

I’ve lost the war and now it’s over.

 

Inside the folds.

Air holes.

Same souls

left to make

one more big mistake.

Reverse the roles.

 

Apathy, truth,

abuse.

No use

thinking or

allowing time for

it to get loose.

 

You say we’ve got it made.

Sunny days just fade away.

No more time to while away.

Yet the war is lost, the war is over.

 

Still, you want your say,

yet your mouth is closed tight;

hiding shadows in the light.

Victims of war, its dark sweeping over.