Author Archives: Chado

Come Over My Place

Red rover red rover:
Strange cold people
Dream of dwelling
Among crustaceans
(Code coming in polar)
Crabby submarine signalers
Take watery virtue vacations
In undersea labyrinths…
(Crossed stations?)

So let us reference birdsong,
Just because it’s wrong
And out of place
To chirp and twitter inane verse
And flitter from reef to tree to mountain
Or fly— SMACK!
Into a window (even worse)
Mistaking transparency for space.

Birdsong bubbles from the depths.
The savage tribes of my city:
Divergent creatures of the reef . . .
Mixed metaphors of savannah
And avian ocean.

Sub-adult male primates
Bare fangs to fauna;
Displaying plumage
(marijuana)
In whirlpools, waterspouts and gangs bangs  Gong  bongs 
Hippos blast reefer smoke
Out of fat wide nostrils
(Cuz they roll like that, blubber)

The flora: plastic, smoke and roots
Vape-trees offer their fruits.
Sharks lurk in darkness
Waiting to pounce on wildebeests
Culrling green tendrils of coral
In the sun beside the regal baobabs.

Darwinian futility withers
In protoplasmic seas of youth:
Your own untruth.

Natural phenomena so over.
Just print it out, download it,
Rover.

 

PROMPT #14:

try writing a poem that describes a place,
particularly in terms of the animals, plants or other natural phenomena there.
Sink into the sound of your location, and use a conversational tone.
Incorporate slant rhymes into your poem.
And for an extra challenge –
don’t reference birds
or birdsong!

 

There is a red flag in many new style trends

 

1

There is a red flag in many new style trends;
They represent a confusion of values.
It is like weakness, when they go crazy.
It stems from a basic rejection of the truth, weakness,
When the self-proclaimed wise, who read the New York Times
Fail completely to perceive the signs of the times.

2

Dionysus told his maenads to rip the thing apart.
The goat was thrown into the midst of their trance.
We think we understand them, but we don’t.
They only knew some bleating thing entered their trance.
And they sang something like this: Oooh baby!
We delirious maenads ripped apart our own baby!

3

These weak-ass patriarchs be hatin’.  Let us twerk.
Someday the wokeness shall prevail, and we shall sleep.
The orchard will wither. True poetry shall rise
And twerking be seen as something true and deep.
And all we inflicted upon your culture
Shall be esteemed as truly authentic culture.

 


PROMPT #13: Write a poem of six-line stanzas use lines of eight-twelve syllables, and while they don’t use rhyme, they repeat end words. Specifically, the second and fourth line of each stanza repeat an end-word or syllable; the fifth and sixth lines also repeat their end-word or syllable. Today, we challenge you to write a poem that uses Justice’s invented form.

The Saga of the Wars of the Races of Elves and Dwarves Before my Wife Brought Me the Six-pack

In elvish days of dwarven lore,
Where Érandūliendor flowed,
In times before the ancient war,

A Lit. professor once geeked out.

The Lord of Darkness in his lair
Sent forth from his grotesque abode
His wingéd minions of the air;

And sorcery, both bright and black
As chanted low, in ancient rhyme,
Made all the eldritch runestones crack.

Where’s my damn phone? Honey, you seen my phone? 

And so the curse of Gôrgoron
Conjured before the dawn of time
Was loosed by Åthylmírmindon!

Whose epic stand against the foes
At Beremöthelenduíl
Wrought fabled fire from winter snows !

T’was thus the hill upon the ridge
Of Flõrÿmandðlemboríl
Caused me to go and check my fridge—

Hey honey, if you’re going shopping could you pick me up a six-pack? 
Now where’s my elvish glossary? Thought it was on the armrest.
Damn this freaking deadline…

 


PROMPT #12: Try writing a poem that makes reference to myths, legends, or other well-known stories, that features wordplay (including rhyme), mixes formal and informal language, and contains multiple sections that play with a theme.

 

RE: write a poem inspired by Wallace Stevens’ Peter Quince at the Clavier.

Wallace S. can kiss my ass.
That overrated Hartford hack
Belonged to a sad milquetoast class
Who talk a load of boring smack.

 

 

 

Wisdom calls for Prudence

 I wisdom dwell with prudence,
and find out knowledge of witty inventions.
Proverbs 8:12 [KJV]

Dear Prudence—won’t you come out to play ?
You know this world is killing you . . .
Wild horses couldn’t drag me away.

I’m going to love you each and everyday;
Eight days a week I love you;
Dear Prudence—won’t you come out to play ?

Well love is love, and not fade away.
Need your love babe, guess you know it’s true;
Wild horses couldn’t drag me away.

Everybody’s got the dues in life to pay:
A combination of judgments made by you.
Dear Prudence—won’t you come out to play ?

And my friends have lost their way . . .
Nothing to do—it’s up to you;
Wild horses couldn’t drag me away.

Dear Prudence, greet the brand new day:
(A deep dejection all the way through…)
Dear Prudence—won’t you come out to play ?
Wild horses couldn’t drag me away.


PROMPT #11

write a Villanelle that incorporates song lyrics –
ideally, incorporating them as opposing phrases or refrains.