Olórin the Wise
New member
Yes... no... wait. Now you've confused me.
Poetry: Duffer style
- Thread starter fish_wwjd_frog
- Start date
Miss Freckles
New member
Olórin the Wise
New member
I know. I hate 30 seconds. We should petition Specter to get it changed to 15.
Miss Freckles
New member
maybe... no. without the 30 seconds, tdl wouldn't be tdl. the delayed lawn.
Olórin the Wise
New member
No, but everybody would dance with joy, so it would te TDL: The Dancing Lawn.
Miss Freckles
New member
yeah, and everyone would post so much we couldn't keep up, thus: the dizzy lawn.
I
I like
I like being
I like being a
I like being a...
I like being a...um
I like being a...um...
I like being a...um...well
I like being a...um...well...
I like being a...um...well...IDONTHAVETIMETOMAKEAPOEM!!!!
That is all. *bows*
I like
I like being
I like being a
I like being a...
I like being a...um
I like being a...um...
I like being a...um...well
I like being a...um...well...
I like being a...um...well...IDONTHAVETIMETOMAKEAPOEM!!!!
That is all. *bows*
a lovely work of art
it had plenty of heart
Miss Freckles
New member
i once revived a lot of threads,
now i'm dizzy and must rest.
but i know it's for the best,
so go on and post, lads.
now i'm dizzy and must rest.
but i know it's for the best,
so go on and post, lads.
People have been reviving lots of threads
Though there might be something wrong with their heads
I am most grateful to them all
It was probably a rather hard haul
Now we can spend our days wasting our time
trying to think of that very hard rhyme
Good heavens! What have you done to us?
We are most thankful nonetheless.
Miss Freckles
New member
i'm so glad to be of assistance
and hope to shatter all resistance
against duffering by posting until my head falls off
oh, wait, let me get that *cough cough*
and hope to shatter all resistance
against duffering by posting until my head falls off
oh, wait, let me get that *cough cough*
please keep your head on! :O
SILLY THINGS
by Fernie
Some things are just silly.
Sort of like kids named Billy.
Now im not saying that all Billys are silly, no,
just the ones who only eat snow.
Some things are silly.
Sort of like kids named Sue.
Now im not saying that all Sues are silly, no,
just the ones that have an afro.
Some things are silly.
Sort of like multicolored bikes.
Now im not saying that all bikes are silly,
just the ones that convert into trikes.
by Fernie
Some things are just silly.
Sort of like kids named Billy.
Now im not saying that all Billys are silly, no,
just the ones who only eat snow.
Some things are silly.
Sort of like kids named Sue.
Now im not saying that all Sues are silly, no,
just the ones that have an afro.
Some things are silly.
Sort of like multicolored bikes.
Now im not saying that all bikes are silly,
just the ones that convert into trikes.
"Mad Cloony's Ride"
Listen, my children, and you shall hear
Of Mad Cloony's ride through the clam sauce drear:
On the thirteenth of April, a Friday (they say),
He mounted a goose and went on his way.
He said to his friend, "If the oysters march
To protest what seemeth unthoughtful starch
(Oysters are shellfish as well, you see,
And of men, they hold, clam sauce should be free)
Hang the blue mustangs from north side dock
And urge them to smile on the face of a clock--
One if by southern way; two for the west;
Three if the oysters are oddly dressed.
Then he said, "Green thunder!" and leaped on his goose.
He took a great gulp of persimmon juice
Just as the moon pulled yellow wax from her ear
And cried, "I'd much rather good wax, and clear!"
A hard slap of webbing from soft goose feet,
A splash in the soup that was louder than meet,
And Mad Cloony was slopping through clam sauce grim,
Knowing a nation depended on him.
It was one twenty-three (claimed the village loon)
When he galloped there under the waxing moon--
To the city, I mean, Gannefrith Bay
(Called Gilliflut in sage Candle-lick's day).
You know the rest. In the books you have read
How the oysters grew sniffly and left for bed,
How Mad Cloony gurgled with animals queer,
And how people all waked and listened to hear.
Listen, my children, and you shall hear
Of Mad Cloony's ride through the clam sauce drear:
On the thirteenth of April, a Friday (they say),
He mounted a goose and went on his way.
He said to his friend, "If the oysters march
To protest what seemeth unthoughtful starch
(Oysters are shellfish as well, you see,
And of men, they hold, clam sauce should be free)
Hang the blue mustangs from north side dock
And urge them to smile on the face of a clock--
One if by southern way; two for the west;
Three if the oysters are oddly dressed.
Then he said, "Green thunder!" and leaped on his goose.
He took a great gulp of persimmon juice
Just as the moon pulled yellow wax from her ear
And cried, "I'd much rather good wax, and clear!"
A hard slap of webbing from soft goose feet,
A splash in the soup that was louder than meet,
And Mad Cloony was slopping through clam sauce grim,
Knowing a nation depended on him.
It was one twenty-three (claimed the village loon)
When he galloped there under the waxing moon--
To the city, I mean, Gannefrith Bay
(Called Gilliflut in sage Candle-lick's day).
You know the rest. In the books you have read
How the oysters grew sniffly and left for bed,
How Mad Cloony gurgled with animals queer,
And how people all waked and listened to hear.
Glen, very nice addition! it reminds me of Alice in Wonderland a bit
I am writing this in a rhyme scheme of "A", in Iambic Pentameter.
REFLECTIONS ON OBSERVATIONS AND CONTEMPLATIONS OF HOMO SAPIENS
The sum of human knowledge sure is vast
-- John Burkitt
REFLECTIONS ON OBSERVATIONS AND CONTEMPLATIONS OF HOMO SAPIENS
The sum of human knowledge sure is vast
-- John Burkitt
Rather pathetic, but no one has posted in this thread for a while.
"Discord Hymn"
Where the rude bridge backtalked the flood,
Mad Cloony’s flag he, happy, whirled—
For, lo, it was his brother’s shirt—
And it into the waves he hurled.
The foe—his brother—is so sane
That if he mutters in his sleep
He quotes math problems, and thereby
Gives poor Mad Cloony the creeps.
Mad Cloony knows full well that saneness
Is insanity alone.
May memory his deed redeem,
When all the oysters home have gone.
So if your brother bothers you,
Sneak in and steal his favorite tee—
Make it into a flag and drop
It in the flood, like Mad Cloony.
"Discord Hymn"
Where the rude bridge backtalked the flood,
Mad Cloony’s flag he, happy, whirled—
For, lo, it was his brother’s shirt—
And it into the waves he hurled.
The foe—his brother—is so sane
That if he mutters in his sleep
He quotes math problems, and thereby
Gives poor Mad Cloony the creeps.
Mad Cloony knows full well that saneness
Is insanity alone.
May memory his deed redeem,
When all the oysters home have gone.
So if your brother bothers you,
Sneak in and steal his favorite tee—
Make it into a flag and drop
It in the flood, like Mad Cloony.
Oh, my goodness... where to start? I have SO much insane poetry. I guess I'll post the lyrics to a song I made up with some friends for their stuffed pig, a renowned country singer who likes donuts, to sing (Lyrics count, don't they?!)
Oh, little donught,
You are so sweet.
Oh, little donught,
I fall at your feet and say,
"Oh little donught,
With powder so fine,
To partake of you would be divine."
I lift you, precious donught,
to take a luscious bite,
Oh, darling donught,
The taste's too good to fight.
I chew ever so slowly to savor the joy,
How delicious you are,
Oh boy, oh boy!
When every crumb is gone,
I lean back with a sigh,
And then I start to contemplate...
Did you really have to die?
I'll reflect upon the life you could have led,
But despite my regrets,
I'm glad I ate you instead.
I know. It's stupid. But that's the point.
I also have a song called "Sugar high," which I wrote with my sister and some friends at summer camp. I wish I could share it, but it's copyrighted material. XD My friends would kill me if I posted it online.
Oh, little donught,
You are so sweet.
Oh, little donught,
I fall at your feet and say,
"Oh little donught,
With powder so fine,
To partake of you would be divine."
I lift you, precious donught,
to take a luscious bite,
Oh, darling donught,
The taste's too good to fight.
I chew ever so slowly to savor the joy,
How delicious you are,
Oh boy, oh boy!
When every crumb is gone,
I lean back with a sigh,
And then I start to contemplate...
Did you really have to die?
I'll reflect upon the life you could have led,
But despite my regrets,
I'm glad I ate you instead.
I know. It's stupid. But that's the point.
I also have a song called "Sugar high," which I wrote with my sister and some friends at summer camp. I wish I could share it, but it's copyrighted material. XD My friends would kill me if I posted it online.