Page the Second


A fronte praecipitium a tergo lupi. (In front of you, a precipice. Behind you, wolves.)

Monday, April 16, 2012

April Poetry Bonanza Cont'd

Day the 14th- Free-form Poem
Ode to Meat
I pity the man who cannot eat meat.
It was put here on Earth for the people to eat.
The juices run down and they drip from my chin
As I take a large bite of this burger of sin.

Let there be chicken so lusciously crunchy
To go with potatoes all steaming and bunchy.
Or turkey so crackly and golden of crust
A scrumptious veal cutlet--a connoisseurs must.

Bring on the steak, the kabobs, or the goulash,
And how 'bout some bacon to make you feel full-ish.
Fish is so lovely, it melts in your mouth
I'd even eat possum that comes from the South.

But even the foreigners do meat quite well
Make my eyes bug out and my stomach to swell. 
Rattlesnake, schnitzel, potstickers, and quail
I'd even eat tentacles, frankfurters, and snail.

Just don't get all crazy while eating your meat
There are vegetables, fruits and good grains left to eat.
The veggies can be just as filling as flesh
Especially if picked from the home garden fresh!

Manga! (How come this either looks like Japanese cartoons or what pets get if you don't take care of them--instead of what Italians say when they want you to dig in?)

Day 15-What If Poem
Flying Fish Friends
What if whales got magic and flew through the air
They might eat my sandwich, drop crumbs in my hair

What if their friends the giant squid came to band
Their hickies would look sick on my neck or my hand

What if 'lectric eels moved into my locker
Could I save my best friend from a jolt--could I block her? 

The minnows would tickle, remora they'd clean
And the jellyfish stingers, uncomfortably mean.

Day 16-Monorhyme Poem
A Day at the Air Show

Waiting impatiently am I
We listen to the announcer guy
Up the jets go, high, so high
Painting smoke pictures in the sky
I barely follow them with my eye
They rumble or screech as they zip by
Over on their bellies they do lie
Were they racing--it's a tie 
To be the best, the Thunderbirds vie
Sometimes azure or crimson their dye
Barrel rolls, barrel rolls, my-oh-my 
We're hoping nothing goes a-rye
If I stay too long my skin will fry
And if you touch it I will cry
But I'll remember having pie
 While watching airplanes paint the sky
Waiting for next year brings me a sigh.
I love to watch those airplanes fly!

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