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Poem game. Options
Small Stan
Posted: Sunday, November 27, 2016 12:57:11 PM

Rank: Newbie

Joined: 8/7/2016
Posts: 25
Neurons: 2,701
Hi!

So. The same thing as the other games here. Someone gives a word or a couple of words to another guy, and that guy makes a poem, somehow related to this words. And then leaves a word or two for the second poet.
2 or 20 lines, serious or funny - it's all up to you.

The crazier or stranger subject you offer, the cooler.
Well, to whoever be the first here, your subject is green whale.

What do you think about it?
Audiendus
Posted: Sunday, November 27, 2016 10:23:59 PM
Rank: Advanced Member

Joined: 8/24/2011
Posts: 4,907
Neurons: 860,919
Location: London, England, United Kingdom
Green whale

I thought I'd had experience
Of everything marine,
Until one day I saw a whale
Whose hue was garish green.
I searched in Wikipedia
For further information,
But found no reference to this
Anomalous cetacean.

I wondered if the animal
Was some genetic mutant,
Or if it was the victim of
A chemical pollutant.
Perhaps the fault was with my eyes,
Or was it mental illness?
And then the creature plunged, and left
An enigmatic stillness.


Next subject: Weeds
MalenaDavies
Posted: Sunday, November 27, 2016 10:33:33 PM

Rank: Newbie

Joined: 11/27/2016
Posts: 1
Neurons: 8,979
Location: Gold Coast, Queensland, Australia
Audiendus wrote:
Green whale

I thought I'd had experience
Of everything marine,
Until one day I saw a whale
Whose hue was garish green.
I searched in Wikipedia
For further information,
But found no reference to this
Anomalous cetacean.

I wondered if the animal
Was some genetic mutant,
Or if it was the victim of
A chemical pollutant.
Perhaps the fault was with my eyes,
Or was it mental illness?
And then the creature plunged, and left
An enigmatic stillness.


Next subject: Weeds


Weeds for you my darling
to help you with your digestion
If weeds don't work
Lets get some intervention.

Next subject: Letters
Small Stan
Posted: Monday, November 28, 2016 3:33:10 AM

Rank: Newbie

Joined: 8/7/2016
Posts: 25
Neurons: 2,701
Letters

The warrior rides on the horse through the mists,
And over the mountains and rivers;
He's strong, he's encouraged, he's clenching his fists,
He's showing his teeth (like do beavers).
He rides, and he rides, and he rides, and he rides.
He rides through the days and he rides through the nights.

And where does he go? I don't know, I can't tell.
But still he proceeds, on he pushes.
But look at him now! Oh, he doesn't seem well!
(Dismounted, he runs in the bushes).
'My lady!', he thinks, 'Thanks for every your letter'.
He sighs very deeply, but now he looks better.


Next: yogi's baby



Vinorusso
Posted: Monday, November 28, 2016 2:10:18 PM

Rank: Newbie

Joined: 3/20/2016
Posts: 5
Neurons: 286,624
Location: Salisbury, England, United Kingdom
Yogi's baby sat by the fire
Watching the flames go ever higher.
His Daddy said don't sit so close
Or you'll go up like cinder toast.


Next - Pink balloons
Audiendus
Posted: Wednesday, November 30, 2016 6:29:28 PM
Rank: Advanced Member

Joined: 8/24/2011
Posts: 4,907
Neurons: 860,919
Location: London, England, United Kingdom
Pink balloons

She didn't want a satin dress,
She didn't want a ring,
She only wanted pink balloons
On bits of coloured string.

She didn't want a flashy car,
She didn't want a man,
She only wanted pink balloons,
Not yellow, blue, or tan.

No other gift would satisfy
Her yearning heart, alas!
She only wanted pink balloons
Filled up with helium gas.

She didn't long for luxuries
To fill her inner void;
She only wanted pink balloons —
It would have baffled Freud.

Next: round windows
Audiendus
Posted: Tuesday, December 6, 2016 5:58:53 AM
Rank: Advanced Member

Joined: 8/24/2011
Posts: 4,907
Neurons: 860,919
Location: London, England, United Kingdom
Round windows

Your eyes are like round windows
Through which I view your soul,
And you, in turn, can peer at me
And watch my thoughts unroll.
Though I perceive but dimly
The contents of your mind,
I do discern that love flies thence.
Forsooth, I am not blind!

Next: apple juice
Audiendus
Posted: Monday, December 19, 2016 8:14:28 PM
Rank: Advanced Member

Joined: 8/24/2011
Posts: 4,907
Neurons: 860,919
Location: London, England, United Kingdom
Apple juice

Pure apple juice — refreshing, cool and clear —
Uplifts my spirit more than wine or beer.
It mitigates the body's summer heat,
And counteracts the winter sun's retreat.

Its sour-sweet taste is paralleled by Life,
Which through its course blends Happiness and Strife;
The wise cleave not to Ecstasy or Grief,
But float through Joy, Misfortune, and Relief.

Cheap, sugar-rich proprietary drinks
Appeal to unenlightened souls, methinks,
While concentrated alcoholic potions
Arouse pernicious intellectual notions.
Most tea and coffee's dull, though inoffensive;
The decent brands are better, but expensive.
Milk's for the young, from bottle or from breast —
For me, however, apple juice is best.

Next: Dark sea
Audiendus
Posted: Friday, January 20, 2017 7:23:04 PM
Rank: Advanced Member

Joined: 8/24/2011
Posts: 4,907
Neurons: 860,919
Location: London, England, United Kingdom
Dark sea

The dark sea,
The shark sea,
The stark sea,
The imperious ocean,
A mysterious potion
Or lotion,
With mute regions
Where brute legions
In riot formations struggle,
And quiet crustaceans snuggle,
While all around resound
Subliminal screams
From hot abyssal streams.
Ah, the strife of life
Is rife,
But food and drink are free,
In the dark sea.

Next: Orchestra
Audiendus
Posted: Friday, May 25, 2018 9:58:08 AM
Rank: Advanced Member

Joined: 8/24/2011
Posts: 4,907
Neurons: 860,919
Location: London, England, United Kingdom
Orchestra

The human race is varied in its styles and predilections,
And may be aptly likened to the four orchestral sections.
The brass are all those blowhards whose opinions, right or wrong,
Obliterate more reasoned views whose sound is not so strong.
The woodwind represents the dreamers, who may freely float,
But harmonize most often with the real world's solid note.
The strings are the conformists who perform essential work
In dull or repetitious tasks which other people shirk.
And as for the percussion - well, they permeate our life,
With sounds that range from discontent to rudeness, rage and strife.
Fate chooses how life's vast symphonic poem will unfold,
Deciding whether euphony or chaos shall take hold.

Next: Hope
jacobusmaximus
Posted: Friday, May 25, 2018 12:02:52 PM

Rank: Advanced Member

Joined: 4/17/2009
Posts: 11,332
Neurons: 403,864
Location: Glasgow, Scotland, United Kingdom
Hope.

Hope is oft times all we've got,
Sometimes it's wishful thinking.
But then again it may just be
What keeps us all from sinking.

Next - Faith.


I remember, therefore I am.
Audiendus
Posted: Friday, June 1, 2018 8:59:36 PM
Rank: Advanced Member

Joined: 8/24/2011
Posts: 4,907
Neurons: 860,919
Location: London, England, United Kingdom
Faith

Faith is a consolation
For people in distress,
Whose pain and lamentation
Their copious prayers express.
But those who seek true knowledge
Abstain from such devotions
And spend hard years at college
To cultivate sound notions.

Next: Strong coffee
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