A poem a day for December 2014

[Paulclem]

December 7th

Weather Elementals

Fronts descend on the weather map;
the North Wind's kiss just like a slap.
We head for home and fire huddle;
elemental kiss and cuddle.

[YesNo]

Round cheeks, round eyes, round nose, round head,
So plump you know he’s getting fed.
The infant does not seem to mind,
Accepts your gifts and trusts you’re kind.

[virtuoso]

Our stockings hung de rigueur
Stuffed with aplomb, care
The mantle our warmth does bare,
until our goodies we must share

[Paulclem]

December 8th

Cold Cathedral spire
points into the distant blue.
Does it pierce heaven?

[YesNo]

There’s little reason to be sad
Though some of us are rather bad,
Though some of us should go to hell
Till laughter lets us lift the spell.

Or maybe this version is better:

There’s little reason to be sad
Since some of us are better bad
And some of us should go to hell
Till laughter lifts us and this spell.

i don't like that one either.

[YesNo]

There once was a limerick writer
Whose poetry failed to delight her.
All she wanted was more
With less words than before
But more mindless to spark and ignite her.

[Pompey Bum]

A cannibal lady from Thrace
Sighed long as she wiped off her face;
She gnawed at some gristle,
Then said with dismissal,
"Well, he's gone, but at least he had taste."

[virtuoso]

Santa Imprints

Peer at the slapstick Santa
drunk on the pixelated screen
Gawk at the mechanical Santa
who seeks your dollar to wean
Glimpse at the kettle Santa
ringing for your spare change
but patronize the perennial Santa
whose gifts you can exchange

[Paulclem]

A red sky morning.
Workers in woolies flocking
along well worn paths.

All night fast fooder
full of families, youths and
older men eating.

I had written these earlier but forgot to post. Just in time.

[YesNo]

Gibberish, gabberish, gubberish, goo
This poem’s unmeaning means nothing to you.
This poem’s unmeaning means nothing to me.
Gibberish, gabberish, gubberish, gee

[Pompey Bum]

Higgledy Piggledy
Nominative, genitive,
Dative, accusative--
Almost the end--
Ablative, vocative,
There ain't no locative,
That's a declension, now
Say it again.

[Paulclem]

Through winter's window
harsh branches scrape at the sky.
The Blue will persist.



Sickbed- looking out.
December has stripped back life;
those wasted tree limbs.

[YesNo]

A theory is a way to match
What one believes is surely true
With what one has to face each day
That shows in every other way
That one’s beliefs just will not do.

[Paulclem]

Forum Limerick

Once on a forum a troll sat
beneath chatty threads like a poised rat.
When a post went chit chat
he would snap at them back,
calling them stupid and too fat.

Hands stuffed in pockets.
Wet pavements reflecting grey.
Minds on home warm hearths.

At the Dentist

At the Dentist, your whole world filled
with faces and instruments till
you leave. Words stumble and slip from
numb, uncooperative lips.

[Pompey Bum]

Hands stuffed in pockets.
Wet pavements reflecting grey.
Minds on home warm hearths.

Lovely, Paul. You may have written it about London, but it could have been Boston or Taipei.