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Rules: Write a poem for national poetry month on the topic or form described. Each poem should appear as a separate reply to this thread. The goal is to, at the end of the month have written 30 poems for National Poetry Month.
Topic 29: Write an "unreliable narrator" poem which is a poem in which the narrator is essentially lying or untrustworthy.
Form : any
Line requirements: 8 lines or more
Questions?
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04-29-2015, 12:22 PM
(This post was last modified: 04-29-2015, 12:24 PM by billy.)
you don't wanna buy that one
this one shows the time,
okay they all tell the time but this one
shows the right time
at least twice a day
guaranteed
i'll say it cheap, any cheaper
and i'd have to charge you for it
not twenty
not fifteen
not even ten
no, all i want from you
this fine sunday
is twenty five quid.
i can do you two for sixty
or...get this
3 for seventy five
that's a saving of fifteen
do the math
buy a watch or fuck off
can you afford to fuck off
leave these works of art behind,
no siree! your wrist screams out
for one of these buggers
to feel your heartbeat
that's it, twenty five quid,
go on my son....
just mercedes
Unregistered
This casually structured wine
uses grapes plucked at random
in the searing heat of midday
by withered crones, crushed
underfoot by certified
Mediterranean lepers
and aged in grubby plastic vats
for weeks at least. It is characterized
by perineum colour and sweaty foot
notes with a spicy semenal finish.
Ideal as an accompaniment to suicide.
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a brightly colored fungus that grows in bark inclusions
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Anorexia with a Side Order of Schizophrenia
The sunny side up egg bleeds
yellow
all over the plate.
I gag,
picking at the grease pooling beside
the sausage and toast.
“I saw a UFO last night,”
I comment to nobody,
but the worn down waitress volunteers.
“Oh yeah! I saw one years ago,
but everyone says I'm crazy.
What did yours look like?”
“It was invisible, because it was cloaked.
They teleport me into the ship each night.
Sometimes they put glass shards into my eyes
so they can read my thoughts,
but I always pick them out.
They put listening devices in my food, too.
That's why I can't eat this,”
I reply, motioning with the fork
to the food growing colder on my plate.
She backs away slowly.
I lean down
and whisper conspiratorially to the eggs,
“Hot enough for ya?”
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04-29-2015, 10:18 PM
(This post was last modified: 04-29-2015, 10:19 PM by Todd.)
Birmingham and Batman
Your villains are caricatures, clowns—
a picture of contrasts
with the subtlety of a crowbar.
I was in that photo in Birmingham,
though I wore a different face;
the one you know was pinned
to the back of a prison cell,
a child’s craft for your consideration.
I wasn't the police; I was the dog
biting the boy,
like I’m doing right now.
Want to know what isn't funny?
Using children as a palette
to paint your pictures, red on red.
That’s the work of dreamers and heroes.
A cause requires cruelty. You get dazzled
by the light in the sky, and forget
that what’s coming to save you is a rat.
The villain poses the players; he isn't frozen
like me in this snapshot,
he wants you to remember.
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson
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(04-29-2015, 10:18 PM)Todd Wrote: Birmingham and Batman
Your villains are caricatures, clowns—
a picture of contrasts
with the subtlety of a crowbar.
I was in that photo in Birmingham,
though I wore a different face;
the one you know was pinned
to the back of a prison cell,
a child’s craft for your consideration.
I wasn't the police; I was the dog
biting the boy,
like I’m doing right now.
Want to know what isn't funny?
Using children as a palette
to paint your pictures, red on red.
That’s the work of dreamers and heroes.
A cause requires cruelty. You get dazzled
by the light in the sky, and forget
that what’s coming to save you is a rat.
The villain poses the players; he isn't frozen
like me in this snapshot,
he wants you to remember. Your complexity thrills me.
< How to quickly sharpen your lawnmower's blade. >
Tired of taking the time and energy
to unbolt your mower's blade
and manually sharpen it?
There's an easy,
and much faster way,
of performing this chore.
The trick
is in keeping the mower running
while you sharpen the blade.
Then all you have to do
is hold a file under the machine
at the correct angle
and let the mower's engine
do the work for you.
It's not that hard.
If you follow the instructions below,
you'll be saving yourself
a lot of time and effort
in no time.
- - -
< Sunday, August 9th, 1997 >
It is seven in the morning.
The bats were out again last night.
I think they got billy.
Either that, or he cut off his hand
and left it lying in the road.
(Not that that couldn't be a possibility.)
There WAS some drinking going on,
one of those casually structured wines.
I remember the last thing billy said to me:
"There are some really big fucking bats out here."
- - -
a brightly colored fungus that grows in bark inclusions
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omg ray that's too damn Funny, and Todd is always putting us to shame with his complexity, I agree.
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Thanks Ray. I would love you to put up a youtube video of your lawnmower poem as an instructional video. It would be hilarious. It would probably end up hurting a lot of people who would think: "What a great idea!"
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson
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I tried the idea with a food processor instead of a lawnmower (we don't have a lawn), and, well, GUYS, THAT METHOD DOES NOT WORK. Also, apparently, reconstructive surgery is expensive, so if anyone has the heart to give some money.... Anyway--
This Can't Be the Place (Awkward Melody)
The spotlights on the stage
are glowing green and gold.
Their flaming eyes are smothered by the dark.
I squeeze your hand --
my hot sweat stings me.
The spotlights on the stage
are burning blue on blue.
Their eyes are set afire in this light.
My hand is loose --
the cold air stings me.
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I Fell in Love with Sylvia Plath
Once asleep each night, the universe halts.
Upon waking, the world evolves once more.
Whilst dreaming, I fashioned you to a fault.
You disappear with the early sun’s vault.
Darkness vaporizes as light restores.
Once asleep each night, the universe halts.
I was seduced by the words most exalt.
In bed, we would hide from the day’s rancor.
Whilst dreaming, I fashioned you to a fault.
You would rather run, but I chose to waltz.
You sought a Savior, while I, the Mentor.
Once asleep each night, the universe halts.
You conjured monsters, brought on the assault-
let the fungus flourish, ignored all implore.
Whilst dreaming, I fashioned you to a fault.
You lie in heaven - I bathe in sea salt,
pondering wasted poetic rapport.
Once asleep each night, the universe halts.
Whilst dreaming, I fashioned you to a fault
My new watercolor: 'Nightmare After Christmas'/Chris
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Blue Northern
"What, hmmm, yes it probably actually did dim,
you know we have a blue northern coming in,
but should the fire freeze all the way and turn blue
here is what I want you to do.
What? Of course it can. This is Texas after all.
Now listen up. Get on your gloves, pick up your tongs,
then with your hammer break the fire,
into to glimmering blue pieces,
pick them up with your tongs and put them into
this special galvanized bucket, when done
move onto the next fire we set.
What for you ask?
Well for the chili of course,
how else do you think we make real chili?
Nowhere, but in Texas, boy, nowhere, but in Texas.
Now one last thing. When we head home at dawn
we'll need to be on the look out for dogs froze to trees."
Erthona
©2015
How long after picking up the brush, the first masterpiece?
The goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.
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All of these are so great. I love "froze" used in the context of your last line...it's just perfect.
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Tender
One drink is not going kill you;
look at me,
I've had three
and I'm a man of gentry.
One more is not going kill you;
it's only ale,
it's weak and pale
and you have strength aplenty.
One drink was not going kill you,
but that makes ten
and I knew you when
that meant halfway to twenty.
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