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O.k. everyone these challenges are catching on. Usually we do one a day, but I have a request from Darkgypsy.
Someone has a tickle
to lighten it up
and use the word pickle
so let us scratch that itch
and show that you can use a pickle
other places than a sandwich
Darkgypsy there you go
let us see how many poems
are sure to follow. Sean
Someone has a tickle
to lighten it up
and use the word pickle
so let us scratch that itch
and show that you can use a pickle
other places than a sandwich
Darkgypsy there you go
let us see how many poems
are sure to follow. Sean
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I haven't written in my diary on my computer since May because I thought that my computer was dying. I got away from writing but my computer is hanging in there. I think that I will start writing in it again. It's so therapeutic.
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First, I hope everyone is doing well, and continuing to fight that good fight! Keep up the great work on yourselves; I'm rooting for all of you!So, I started doing therapy at the beginning of the year, when I was in my most depressed state, but with my therapist, I made big changes and steps in the right direction. But, over a month ago, she couldn't take my insurance anymore, and I had to stop...
That I began to feel green and fickle
Taking myself so seriously
That I could see only spuriously
Until a gypsy moth tickled my nose
On its way to the garden hose
With a flap of its wings it sang, "Lighten up.
"You are looking like a hopeless grump."
Have I mentioned that I have tried to quit poetry more often than I have tried to quit smoking. I spoke compulsively in rhyme when I was a kid and sure got razzed for it. Irish rap was not socially acceptable back in the 60s.
There was a young bitch named Arfie
Who kept talking silly and barfie
She tried to repent
But could not relent
So she tucked in her tail and went bye-bye
"I dont want a pickle.
Just wanna ride on my mooooootor-sicke.
And I dont wanna die.
Just wanna ride on my moooooootor-cy
cle."
Arlo Guthrie recorded it.
Sorry I'm not much of a poet, but love reading them.
A poet in the next room is a joke.
I would rather live a good life while I am alive than have a good life after I am dead. Alas, the natural result of trying to quit poeting more often than I have tried to quit smoking is compulsive poetry puffing.
Rhyme on good buddy. I yam what I yam.
IRA now stands for, "Irish Rap Alliance."
i have so long built poetry, but not just on ryhme but the artistry of the rythm.
ok this little master peice was writtle as an ode to my love of tortureing fast food cashiers
pickles
i asked for pickles
seriously, just pickles
can you not hear pickles?
repeat- pickles
damn! just forget it
For she had never had a pickle.
Then along came I, riding my cycle.
She gave me a frown so I gave her a tickle.
So I turned the frown,
Upside down.
A beautiful smile she gave me that day.
So we started to date in the Month of May.
It wasn't too long before she had a great deal to say.
Then she learned to laugh and she learned to play.
No longer was this gal so fickle.
For she soon learned about my pickle.
It wasn't too long that we decided to marry.
We didn't wait long, I mean why should we tarry.
Its been 21 years since we tied the knot.
And during that time we raised for little tots.
Three are now grown while one remains here.
And when she finally leaves I will shed one more tear.
But my wife who was so fickle
Still knows how to play.
For she loves my old pickle
To this very day.
GRATITUDE and Blessed Pease Follow You Each Until Your Youngest Day
Grow on to more fickle
May the circle be unbroken!
Great spin, Mr G