Repost - Word Verification Limerick

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Some people love word verification. Not sure why.
I don't do it and have not had any problems.  Blogger intercepts all spam for me.

I tend not to visit blogs that require me to prove I am not a robot.

That's a human response.
 

I wrote the above limerick some time ago - time for a reprint.

Using words taken from Word Verification windows, of course.

Translated, it reads:Word verification is the pits
When doing a blog comments blitz
To say verification
Is a mild irritation
Is wrong, in reality it gives me quite a lot of bother.

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© 2012   J Cosmo Newbery

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CCLXXIX - The Elemental Cycle

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One Single Impression had the prompt "Elemental".

The Elemental Cycle

We’re born, we live, we die, we’re gone

But the basic atoms still live on.

As Sherlock would say

In a roundabout way:

“It’s elementary, Dr Watson.”

There’s a thought that I try to suppress

To avoid any unwanted distress:

I find it quite queer

That, this time next year,

All of my atoms will have a different address.

While it’s both troubling and vexed

Wondering where I might reappear next

It helps to console

My warrior soul

That bits of me were once a T-Rex.

When my elements are so hurled

It’s not just to the animal world:

My carbons may have spread

Through the fine cotton threads

Of the blouse of the sweetest young girl.

Harder to accept, but equally true,

Are the dark deeds that my atoms accrue,

There’s a finite chance

That, in Hitler’s pants,

Was a nitrogen, now part of my crew.

So, as you caress your beloved, beneath a tree,

With bread and wine and hormonal glee,

Spare a small thought

During this sensual sport,

That a part of your lover may once have been me.

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© 2012   J Cosmo Newbery

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CCLXXVIII - Pull out the corks.

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Carry On Tuesday asks you to continue with a famous first line but to create your own work.

This weeks' line was "Stop all the clocks" from W.H.Auden's famous poem, Funeral Blues.

I wasn't really comfortable doing that, so did my own version. 

For me, one day.

Pull out the corks.

Pull out the corks, fill up your glasses,

What was above is now below the grasses.

Turn up the stereo; Mozart, if you have some.

Open up the back bar and let anyone come.

Let Magpies chortle in unfed dismay

Their morning feeder has gone away.

The possums, of course, wont miss him at all

As long as there’s garden, they’ll be having a ball.

He was my muse, my mask, my other half;

A wicked counsel and a ready laugh;

My prop, my strop, the Rogers to my Astaire,

He fathered my sons.  I know, I was there.

Tears are not wanted, so dry off your eyes;

Whatever is born, eventually dies.

So heat up the kettle and slice up the cake

Let’s give the old bastard a really good wake.

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© 2012   J Cosmo Newbery

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CCLXXVII - The Miracle

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Poetry Jam as a prompt called "Have you seen a miracle lately?"

Well no, I haven't, I'm not one to believe in miracles

so I probably wouldn't recognise one if I fell over it. 

But it has always amused me that something really good is a miracle

but something really bad, no matter how freakish, is not a miracle. 

Here is a limerick on that theme:

The Miracle

They were chatting beneath a great tree

When lightning cooked two of the three.

Said the one who survived:

“It’s a miracle I’m alive

But I don’t think my friends would agree.”

.

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© 2012   J Cosmo Newbery

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CCLXXVI - Behind the Mask

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The structure of this poem is a Rondeau

I started writing this about clowns, this morning,

before I heard of Whitney Houston's death.

Seems fitting.

Behind the mask.

Behind the mask and orange hair

Behind the shoes and public flair

Behind the bright and gaudy clothes

The clown has feelings few can know.

In fact they seldom even care,

That’s not the reason why they’re there:

They came to point and laugh and stare.

They have no interest in his woes,

Behind the mask.

We are all clowns at a local fair,

Performing in a sideshow where

Others watch but are never close

Enough to sense we’re taking blows;

Few even ask what’s happening there,

Behind the mask.

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© 2012   J Cosmo Newbery

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CCLXXV - The Wrong Bait

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.Mad Kane has a regular limerick challenge.

She provides the first line, the rest is up to us.

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.  .
The Wrong Bait

A fellow was trying to lead
A sweet young thing to bed, to breed.
“You’ve read poems for hours
And sent oodles of flowers
But, for chocolate, I would have readily agreed.”
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© 2012   J Cosmo Newbery

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CCLXXIV - Full Plate

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.Mad Kane has a regular limerick challenge.

She provides the first line, the rest is up to us.

 

A man with a very full plate
Ignored the allure of his date.
“The main course is divine,
Then there’s cake, cheese and wine;
The entrée will just have to wait.”

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© 2012   J Cosmo Newbery

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