Would you like to write a poem with me?

Sometimes when I’m feeling small

or barely think I’m here at all,

I wonder about riding a narwhal

Or perhaps a pub crawl,

Then I feel so much better

I compose a friendly letter

To a girl named Heather

Who wears chaps made of leather

She had been the love of my life

Until she met my wife

The one that made me feel minute

No more than a laughed-upon midget

People said it was a hoot

But it was tragic

Every time I watched the Orlando Magic.

Which taught me to value the extemporaneous

and wonder with awe at the spontaneous

Mass production of lemon meringue-iness

but be confused by such outrageous

She said, “Careful, I have a poetic license!”

Oh, but I didn’t believe her since

She is never anywhere but on the fence

isn’t that such nonsense!

Then just like that, out of the blue

The grass was suddenly covered with Mountain Dew.

and fraught with perils we cannot undo

Unless we save ourselves with super glue

As I had been to the McGyver school of life,

I quickly pulled out my Swiss Army knife

The fear in my heart gripping me so tight

As I continued climbing under the cover of night.

A learning beast, growing and yearning with every speck of muck and scrape

Thank goodness I had some bubblegum and tape!

Unfortunately I didn’t pack my superhero cape.

Just then I realized it was on my back.

This made it much easier to escape

And turn around, flying on the attack.

But accidentally flew right into a wall…bwhap!

I accidentally flew right into a wall…bwhap!

and I did it twice, crap!

I shouldn’t have drank on those beers… on tap!

But I quickly composed myself

And addressed my pocket elf

No, he does not sit at home on a shelf.

He’s really quite pleasing

Cuz he doesn’t do much teasing

Unless he’s drinking riesling

and raging at the Sun.

However, raging is good when all is said and done.

When the dogs have been put out and the kids have had their fun.

Oh, let me tell you about the kids though,

my days are filled with “I said enough” and “I told you so”

And OMG mom! Take me to the Jonas Brother’s show!

Maybe if you clean your room and don’t talk back

I won’t build a robot nanny and make her attack

And always remember that crack is whack.

But we still need to cut Whitney some slack.

Because she will always love you

No matter how big your boo-boo

And that is the greatest love of all

Even better than the best pub crawl

or setting fire to a random, suburban mall

Sometimes it’s easier to just throw in the towel.

Or ask Pat Sajak if you can buy a vowel.

You might win a vacation to visit johnpowell!

But if you should lose

You’ll get a big bruise

And a Bermuda Triangle cruise.

Now that would make the news!

My mother-in-law was not amused

Tell her to go take a snooze.

she already did after a hard booze

(She was working hard on some crossword puzzle clues).

That’s how she became word-addicted

She had previously been kind of sudoku afflicted

But now she is grammatically gifted

Through the sands of time she has thoroughly sifted

When before, through life, she only drifted.

How many secrets keep her wrinkles?

Beauty skin deep, like wrapping paper’s crinkles

And did anyone hear those tinkles!?

But the best part of all of this

(She whispered to me as she gave me a kiss)

you won your share of bliss

With a lovely Swiss miss

All through the night, and the following day

We looked for pirate treasure sunk in the bay

some ancient goddess made from clay

Who always had something silly to say

I heard somewhere she wore long beard

And dreadlocks that were slightly seared

Cthulhu cult was at times a little weird

But that’s the way she was reared.

She planned her escape for the crack of dawn

no longer content with being a pawn

dreaming of sunnier days renounced her crown

and started wearing a nasty, old frown

She looked forlornly at her swiss army knife

And dreamt of being McGyver’s wife

And swore that on this hundredth thread

She wouldn’t wish that she were dead

On hidden caves revolution went ahead

And wrote the things best left unsaid

Like dirty laundry and

stale bread!

To this day, they still whisper her name

It really is a bloody shame

But she’s my chocolate drink, still the same.

(Sorry, it’s getting pretty lame.)

So, I hopped onto my Vespa

you know I like the fiesta

And I sped down the street at high speed.

(My last comment, will nobody heed?)

If I must, I will concede.

Well, it’s getting kinda hard to read.

So, what shall we do? Tell someone who cares?

And just like that, it’s back from the dead for anyone who dares

The zombie, the undead, Vespa-girl from Hell

Scaring all the people and not faring so well

Who wants to know? I’ll never tell!

What is that god-awful smell?!

excuse me i just ate some fish from a shell

What next you say?

Some eloquent words woven into the fray

or a romp in the hay

Why wait? Let’s go play!

But seriously, my time is short

And you expect a retort?

Oh, the places we’ll go

On the back of a crow

Enjoying the beautiful sights far below

And eating up our cookie dough

Biding our time

Creating rhythm and rhyme

just sublime

With a hint of lime

So when will this end?

This fine lyrical trend

the way you like my friend

And how far she can bend

Seriously, enough!

Oh, you think you’re tough?

Yeah, I’ve heard how you like it rough.

I’ve seen your collection of kinky stuff.

As they tried to beat this poem to death, but it’s tough.

I think I’ll have a peanut butter and Fluff!

Is there no way to make you all stop?!

Well, maybe you should call a cop!

Or threaten us with a karate chop.

Thats it: I’m putting this poem in the shop.

But on the way to the shop, you took a wrong turn

When your car exploded, you got a nasty burn

Which you soothed with butter from your own churn

Covered in butter from head to toe,

You decide to head out to see a show

when all of a sudden you screamed, “oh no!”

Because you walked outside and fell in the snow

sigh Better snow than manure, I thought to myself

And now we’re back to the pocket elf….

Which to me still sounds dirty in and of itself

So, with a huff and a puff

and a small pinch of snuff

I harnessed the reindeer and braved the cold

And a piece of cheese covered in mold.

It’s time to reflect on these words we all said,

Jiminy Cricket, I can’t get them out of my head!

I agree with @Bluefreedom, let’s put this to bed

And with that, the poem was dead.

But three days later it had arisen.

Or 3 seconds for that matter, sorry Zen!

Lets put all the unhappy campers in a playpen!

With a hen?

Or ten.

Sorry, I was in the Easter spirit

So I buy a juicy steak and sear it

and wrote a song with dirty lyrics

that sent me into complete hysterics.

My AD&D character class is Cleric.

his philosophy teacher died of beriberi

The teacher’s favorite ice cream was black raspberry

and he spoke the language of fairies

I think he was an Aries.

Before he was a teacher he worked at many dairies.

Milking cows and shoveling, you know

I believe in Spanish the word is el Poop-o

I thought I smelled something that wasn’t so sweet….

and then continued to make my way towards Crete.

Where I found my soul mate and my happiness was complete.

@Bluefreedom‘s ending cannot be beat.

Unless it also ended with us under a sheet

(He got 3 “great questions” for this amazing feat!?!)

Well, is it over now, for the love of Pete?

Just in case, you should hold on to your seat!

I say quit while we’re ahead?

Or keep this up until we’re all dead?

Is there even enough thread?

And just like that, still was the night.

Thanks Blue, I thought no-one would bite…

Well Pete said to do what is right.

he was caught reading Nietzsche at night

Seriously, guys, that was in the nick of time…

Time, that is, for a vodka and lime.

I’m having a Tuborg, and you?

I think I’ll have a bottle of wine….or two!

It’s still early, take heed, he said (with a grin)

I’ll have a martini, top shelf gin.

My vodka and lime was only for rhyme.
I really prefer a good beer!

Take your time, add your lime,
to the Corona, for some good cheer!

Thank you, Zen. Now and then
I like your rhythm and rhyme!

You aint no loser, yetanotheruser,
But maybe we should get back to the crime?

I gotta shoo, got errands to do
Maybe I’ll; drop back later!

That would be great (go now, don’t be late)
Could you bring me a Coke and a paper?

In my office space, you can see my O face,
and excuse me but I believe you have my stapler.

Why all of a sudden did things change?
Writing two lines might be too hard.

It really isn’t difficult; give it a try,
(But practise first, O’ budding Bard)

Oh, @autumn43,
you sweet little bunny (or maybe a hamster)
I have faith in your skills!

It’s a bunny, @elijahsuicide
Have you forgotten your pills? (JK)

Pills! Pills! Magical pills!
Blue ones, red ones,
Oh crap I need refills!

Bean. beans the magical fruit
The more you eat, the more you toot

Toot if you must, but not in my bed.
Especially with covers
Pulled over my head.

I’ll try, my dear – but tell John to move over
His snoring is waking the dead in Dover.

I’m a bunny! I’m a bunny!
I love to hop in clover!

(Methinks that perchance
This rabbit aint sober)

I’ve been gone too long…it’s over, it’s over, it’s over!

if you’re clever
never say never

(Whistles to his dog, Rover)

Rover is missing, kidnapped by a goat!
All that was left was a short ransom note.

Two lines or one line????
Was all the goat wrote.

This poems has no rules
I learned long ago
So do what you want
And go with the flow.

write a whole book
and send it to the printer
or for a better look
publish it on twitter

Well, okay if I must
But I better get a bunny sitter! I have 342 children

People, let’s focus. Poor Rover is gone.
We need asmonet to “Nancy Drew” this or else Rover is done.

Can’t we just call Rover to come over?

He would if he could but he can’t so he won’t.
Didn’t you read the goat’s ransom note?

Get a grip people, I need you to think clearly
Rover, from Dover, was run over, well, nearly

Thank goodness, I’ve found him
The reunion was great
He said, Woof Woof woof
(from a horrible fate)

I’ve not yet studied the goat’s native tongue.
But I did take the string from which the note was hung.

And then I got stung!
Not by a bee,
But a big, ugly, flee…

Oh did it hurt
As I dug in the dirt.

While digging in dirt, did you happen to see the goat?

Was the bee in your bonnet,or perhaps your coat?

It wasn’t a bee!
It was a big, ugly flee.

And that poor Billy Goat,
He wanted a bonnet instead of a coat.

You must flee from the flea
And the cross dressing goat.
Run to the river
And get in a boat.

Cross dressing goats and fleeing fleas!

Could someone pour me some more wine, please?

I got your back, I’ll pour your wine.
Just chug this bottle. You’ll feel mighty fine.

“Dgjhsagm cfsxbvcn” said the goat with his wine…
That’s goatish for “this bottle’s divine.”

Is nothing sacred to that goat with wine that’s mine?

I will drink him under the table – X nine!

The bet is on,
Here or on the lawn.
Wine with @autumn43
As long as there is no flea.

of course there’ll be no flea!
I’m a meticulous bunnee!

Have I come too late to rescue the goat?
I was postponed (reading all that you wrote)!

@McBean No NO, not late at all amigo, though I’m sure it took long to read

This poem has gotten completely out of hand, I shall from henceforth lead

I’d like to say to all my friends it’s been tremendous fun
But now it’s time to say good-night, for the poem now is done

M.I.C (see you soon) K.E.Y (Why? because I luv ya)
Couldn’t and wouldn’t have done it without ya
But please, let the thread unravel

Go to mattbrowne.com’s questions -
Or someplace else safe and good
And let this poem rest from its travels.

if this makes sense
I’m a polar bear
without my lenses
it took a whole year

I had a friend from near the north pole
Mulukpukchukluck lived quietly there:
His bear had suicidal tendencies
He was a bi-polar bear.

This addiction to rhyme seems to be widely spread
whether typed on a keyboard or written with lead.
Our friend Zen’s tried to end it, but there’s no end in sight
‘cause the Wordies on Fluther…

Are completely insane, am I right?

Are you right? I think not!
These Flutherites are a great lot!
We try to pick brains
For more than plantains
And come up with the best that we’ve got!

A snake charmer earning his keep
Played notes that were mellow and deep
Til the snake raised its head
And quietly said
Play faster I’m falling asleep!

So it’s come to the lim’rick, I see!
Oh well, be that as it may be,
I will write with my rhyme,
And keeping in time
Using letters from “A” up to “Z”.

My verse is becoming quite stale.
I feel like an old rusty nail.
My noodle is limp,
I’m round as a blimp,
And my senses are beginning to fail.

The thread is becoming so long
Although the rhyme’s not very strong
When the record is set
It’s then that we’ll let…
This thread die and finish the song.

@Yetanotheruser – your words have struck a chord
I’ve tried in vain to stop this thread
I have witnesses, look up (Oh Lord!)
For some time now, it’s been quite dead (and yet, still read).

Happy Easter to all who drop in!
The day has me just, well – hoppin!
It’s a great day for fun
Seeing smiles on everyone
And the candy eating is just non-stoppin!

Corny as heck, I know!
Just work with me and go with the flow
It’s just starts to happen
My mind starts to snappin’
And the words just don’t know where to go!

—

time to write
time to read
time to fail
time to rest

Time to Live
Time to Love
Time to Heal
(You’re the best)

If you want this poem to end
It will take alot of discipline.
You’ll have to delete it
From your questions to quit
And never come back again!

If a tree falls in the forest and no one hears it, does it really fall?

@miasmom I fear, my dear
It has a life of its own;
I could kill it, delete it
(Maybe even eat it) BUT -
There’s no stopping this little poem…

It’s like a drug,
Or a big fat bear hug…
You can’t resist
Even if you insist
Enjoy this poem, like wine from a great big jug.

I am tired, and need a rest
Y’all continue if you want: do your best;
Just remember my motto –
This isn’t a test!

Test, test you say?!?!
I think I’m being watched by the CIA.
Help me ok?!

@miasmom – and at you all
I’ll be here, to catch your fall
C.IA, or F.B.I
It could even be the eye in the sky:

Mossad, Jihad, MI5 et al
Don’t scare this once-upon-a-gook
@miasmom, and all the poets
I’ll treat them as Scooby treats spooks.

Here’s the thing with a poetry Q
Every time you have nothing to do
– or you’re drunk or inspired
or otherwise wired –
you’ll come back to create a haiku.

It is rather addictive
To say in the least,
So I’m content to let it live,
This poem – yes, a beast!

@McBean my friend, you are correct
And though this lovely (silly) poem I’d rather forget
It, however, never ceases to neglect
My need for sleep; Howevere, still no regrets.

We’ve been going for over a week!
Now what is the record we seek?

Is there a record that we seek?
Or maybe just the highest peak?
There is a prize
That’s good for the eyes
If so, we can start this week!

So, another 2 responses to this question, and
The link gets me right back again;
It’s like some kind of virus
(How will it ever end?!)

Dear Zen,
Why does it have to end?
Don’t you want to see where it goes?
Doesn’t it just keep you on your toes?
Or is it like a big fat sneeze
That you hope just gets carried away with the breeze?

It’s kind of like Fluther
Or sugar is another.
You can’t keep away
Which is great in a way
Because this poem is so fun
It’s a bright spot in my day, like the sun.
That’s no pun.

And what a great place to be
when there’s work to be done!
I always feel more creative
when I have chores to shun.

Who wouldn’t want to be here
making rhymes, having fun?
Instead of us ending,
we’ve barely begun!

It is now time for the world to be free
Of this kudzu crop of poetry
So with a bomb a my breast
And a crazed, “AI YIYIYIYIYIYI!!!”
I consign this poem to eternity.

boom

@Blondesjon You made me LOL4RL, and
I feel you are correct;
This poem henceforth is complete and done,
Or chores I shall neglect.

I haven’t a life no-more, I can’t function at all
I have begun to feel, well quite dead
(All I’ve done before, my kids, my wife…)
Now all I have is this little thread. (sigh)

Little?! This thread is huge!
Don’t underestimate it’s power
and don’t be a scrooge…
Cease this momentous hour!

You said, @miasmom to cease this hour (please)
Which means to stop it, I think
(Yep – I googled it – it means: ‘stop’, not ‘seize’)
And now I really need a drink!

@Zen I think I agree
We need to cease not seize.
To be or not to be,
Now is the time to stop, please?!

@miasmom I know I know – what shall we do?
I’ve tried so many times;
I’ve even flagged this question myself, but
(They come back and keep adding more rhymes!)

;-)

To put an end to this thread,
I have a suggestion…
Why not start again
with a new “rhyming question”?

I have no rhyme this morn’
I have nothing else to add
I think I will go have a drink
And try not to be sad

Unintended consequence
Is something I can see
Becomes the reason for the size
Of this lengthy ditty.

So, Sometimes when I’m feeling small
or barely think I’m here at all,
I wonder about riding a narwhal
Or perhaps a pub crawl.

The End

I hadn’t finished my coke
when I saw the end comin’
my head was still rollin’
with the last Cruise flop

Feelin’ small, pub crawl, isn’t that the be-all!
Coke drop, Cruise flop, (Where’s that narwhal!)
Quoting Bob Dylan, reading by the candle,
“The pump won’t work ‘cuz the vandals took the handle.”

I thought that this thread
Had disappeared
Now it’s resurfaced
(I am so queer)

It was a good day
In a bad way
To say it again
Is it okay Zen?
It was a good day
In a bad way

We ignored it, and it went to sleep
And slumbered sleep of the deep.
Now it’s risen, you see,
Like the Easter Bun-ee,
With so many more chances to bleep!