Tiddle taddle tell me the news
The gossip of a whole big world
All that there stuff I need to know
Like if Bieber will stay or go.
Stupid stuff fills up the program
Things that are there just as fillers
Even though the important things
Seems like propaganda to me
Shilly shally shallow people
Sit my ears on end they do
As the news goes on its way
Telling the world about another day
Tiddle Taddle TV news
You’ll burn inside a Babtist’s hell
You’re just gossips, tongue waggers
Your backbiting’s full of flame.
And if I should turn the TV off
And not pollute my mind today
What would happen then to me
Uninformed and maybe really free?
“So for today, I want us to write “Sketchbook poetry” – poetry that captures a scene – poetry that is immediate and in the moment – jot down what you see – maybe even go for a walk and write outside – go into heavy details with what catches your attention, cut other things out”
dVerse – Poet’s Pub
Where’s the babies pacifier?
Where’s the bottle where’s the rum?
Where’s the man with all the answers?
Where’s the soldier with the gun?
Where’s the reverend who’ll save your soul?
Where’s the flowers of his grave?
The baby buried the pacifier…
The bottle’s empty, there’s no rum…
The man’s answers dried up long ago…
The gun stopped shooting the soldier’s gone…
The reverend went to meet his maker…
The flowers were stolen yesterday…
Who is the man I thought I knew?
Who is the woman that you married?
Who is that person if not your son?
Who was the leader who ran the country?
Who is the guru who’ll teach you nirvana?
Who will bury you when you are dead?
Just an illusion with whom I fell in love…
Just an illusion you created that’s all…
Just an illusion, a man who once lived in your house…
Just an illusion, the country’s had no leaders…
Just an illusion for nirvana’s inside you…
Just an illusion you’ll be long gone by then!
For dVerse…Poetics – Repetitions
I love this film…and when I saw dVerse had posted it as part of the prompt…well…I thought I put it up here!
Blah Morning (Tanka)
rained the night through,
yes, it’s sodding raining still .
blah a dull grey day,
so depressing, may invite,
melancholy – suicide.
a bit dramatic?
yeah, I guess you’re right, it is,
but statistics say
that it’s this sort of dark day
which can make the mighty fall
blah…what a bother
being pulled out of one’s bed
for no good reason
forced to slosh in cold rainfall
to go to work or to school
there’s no fire today
just the drip, drip, drip of damp
good to mildew books
bring on arthritis and cramps
blah, what a waste of a day
I’m coming to visit you
your words may inspire
better than this wet lake quagmire
or these drippy dull mountains.
(Written for dVerse OpenLinkNight found via Bjorn and his Charcoal Letter – very nice by the way go and read it!)
Seasons come and go
into labyrinths they flow…
One man’s Spring
Summer’s first fruit eaten
The rest may go rotten…
During Autumn we harvest
grain and grapes…
Winter, Gaia lays fallow:
She rests and hibernates.
With men it’s different:
Ragnarök is our winter fate
Battle never won by Gods or men.
Written for dVerse Poet’s Pub: 55 word free form prompt:
Tonight, I invite you to contribute your own 55-word poem.
Yes, that’s the only rule: The poem (not including the title) should have 55 words, no more, no less.
It’s not required, but if you wanted use a metrical or rhyming framework to the poem – to differentiate it from 55-word prose – it would be amazing.
And folks, let’s link to the G-man and other 55-word groups, and help bring together communities meant to encourage a love affair with writing.
This is also submitted to G-Man’s 55 where the prompt is to write in exactly 55 words.