Category: Daily Doggerel
12:18
12:18
“A-a-a-hem…”
“Verse most perverse. Let us begin…”
On this day we examine our prize
For at our age we are thus wise
No feathered owls in cages gilt
Will glare at us with eyes atilt
Nor deny us our sagacity
From lofty perch in yonder tree
It seems as though we’ve reached an age
Of chapters full and many a page
But though we see this smallish break
We trust tomorrow new tale we’ll make
The story’s sweet and fun and bold
But there remains so much not told
Thus we begin another new path
And forward we float and flow and waft
With companions true and ever boon
This journey’s end will not be soon
And all together we shall grow
Through each moment we as one shall go
11:22
Last minute poetry
And this is what you throw at me
A song of love and hate and pain
So fucking trite so so insane
It makes me nuts this crazy shit
Don’t want it , Don’t like it,
No not one bit
But if he don’t ever finish this tale
That bloody author’s off straight to hell.
11:11 It is just a Symbol
On occasion of Remembrance Day and being pissed at white poppies
It is just a Symbol
I don’t remember
His quiet stories
Or the caress of his father’s hand
I don’t remember
Alphabet lessons
Or our playing in the sand
I don’t remember
The holidays
Or have memories of happy words
And I don’t remember
The uniform
Or the shriek of iron birds
I don’t remember
His touch, his smell,
The nature of his tones.
And I never knew his reasons why
or the lessons that he learned
But I remember that he once served
whatever his reasons why
And I’ve been taught that
he took flight
and flew across the sky
It’s true I’ve always known
He’d been there when I was oh so small
And whatever else that he may have missed
He must have smiled to see me crawl
But of the many skills
he had to share
moments and emotions
and souls to bare
There was no time,
no place, no song
His few moments were
too swiftly gone
In here and now, all that remains
Is history taught at nother’s knee
The images and old stories
passed down, just history
And yet they have now become,
And are my reasons why
As eleven eleven comes round again
I step aside from my conceits
and spare a glance for the sky
To take second to
Now that I’m grown
And think of things
That I have never known.
And wish that you Remember
Wherever your thoughts may dwell
That whether or not you knew them
They’re owed their silent, fare the well.
For the first time in history I find myself reluctant to share a poem or rhyme; indeed when I have ever been shy to share the nonsense that escapes my lips. I can see that the bones are there but it doesn’t do the idea, the raw purpose much justice. Still, as amateurish puling doggerel goes, it makes my heart move a bit so I guess, for me, that it is enough.
But do me a favour and sing your own song or scribble your poem or paint your own picture and remember always, that on the backs of others our lives rest.
10:21
O M G,
you call that poetry
It don’t even rhyme,
except that one time
Well I won’t call it bad,
its obviously all you had
But don’t do it again
just save us the pain
please?
10:20
10:20
Caroline hadn’t had much of a life up until now: no friends, no dreams, no real interests. When she had first arrived in the city, she had hung out at these odd little cafes where people would get up and slam.
Slamming, or poetry slamming, or spoken word art generally, was an odd new trend where people would compete by standing up and reading their poems aloud, depending more on rhythm and flow than rhymes and structure.
Caroline tried it one particularly depressing night with no great success.
We Are Base
by Caroline D.
Have you considered the beast that’s inside you?
The animal that lurks
and screams from inside?
Have you considered,
letting it out, letting it ride
across the savannah?
Tearing, rending, chewing, spitting,
trying to derive some sustenance from the
meager flesh of the animals that scurry and hurry and pretend they are doing something important,
something real.
Those pathetic weak and childish beasts that swirl and spin
around you
every day,
every minute,
every second,
clogging your minds with the dust of their travels and leaving you nothing but a gritty taste on your lips and a brain filled with the stink of their passage.
Have you ever wondered
if you could survive on their leftovers,
the remnants of their lives, the sadness and the pain and the failure and defeat
Of your fellow man who thinks,
who believes
who knows
That he, or she, or it
is better than you,
stronger,
faster,
more wild,
more fierce,
more able
I’ve never wondered.
I’ve never had to.
My beast
cannot be caged,
my beast cannot be held back,
my beast cannot be denied.
From the moment I was conceived,
my beast has roamed,
and torn
and attacked
and run away.
My beast has lost and won
and lost again.
My beast has survived on the leavings,
scavenged the corpses of others less strong,
gnawed on the edges of their success
My beast has known hunger and desperation and fear and emptiness.
My beast bears the scars of the struggle,
the aches of constant failure
and the price of its existence.
But my beast survives where others
lie in heaps and piles and mounds and walls
of bleached-out bones and scraps of fur
and teeth
and the small, tiny treasures
that every beast, every soul,
carries with it
to the end.
I once considered recalling the thing,
bringing it home to rest,
to curl up in the warmth of my mind
content, peaceful, happy with itself
and full.
Full of hope and sustained by the future.
I once considered caging the animal inside
And feeding it
And caring for it
and loving it
And trying to make it,
and me,
happy.
But I hate the beast
I hate its teeth, its claws, its smell
and I hate the way it hungers and slathers and whines and
spins
round and round trying to get comfortable
trying to rearrange my mind to suit its dirty needs,
its slimy, selfish, horrid ways
I hate the beast and so
I cast it out.
Let it
work for me,
let it
bring me its tribute,
its trophies
its prey
Who cares about its victims,
who cares about their lives
No one cares about
my
beast
Not even me.
So if you’ve ever wondered
What it would be like
to set free the animal inside
and free yourself from the pain
and anguish
of cowering in fear of your own soul
Don’t.
Don’t wonder,
don’t fear, don’t hide,
don’t dither and dodder or wither and whine about
why or why not or how, or what or when
Set free the caged creature, just cast open the gates
There is no need to worry
Leave the prey to their own
fates.
10:1
10:1
Woohoo birds
Flocks and herds
Define a shape
And then escape
Across the sky
This shape would fly
Change its aspects
As a new leader accepts
I wish my group,
Could choose to swoop
My clan, my peeps, my crowd
Together could be half as proud
As that soaring mass of fowl
Would we scream, or could we howl
At that open cyan sky
As they open their throats and together cry
Hurray and Woohoo
Together we do
Great things of great beauty
Feel joy is our duty
Though not among those far-off clouds
I was and am so very proud
Of the us all so together
My birds and friends of a feather
9:19
Looking at a blank screen
Feeling like I might be mean
Saying nasty blackened things
Edges like my diamond rings
Screaming at the world insane
Trying to gouge out cherished pain
By tearing at their sacred walls
Kicking at their sweaty balls
I hate the twisted,
fucked up way
We slash each
other day by day
Looking at this empty slate
Fucking with my sorry state
Screw you all, and your horse too
your bastard clique or wrecking crew
I wanna grow, do something fine
Destroy your motherfucking grind
—Barnabus
9:10
Sing to the audience
It used to be they turned the page
To discover the plots that we made
But now, the story’s just words
Living in the cloud that we heard
of
wires and numbers and power that’s burned
It’s so strange, it’s almost absurd
So we swallow and chew on despair
Try to survive on electronic fare
oh
It’s crazy
It’s so unreal
It’s crazy
An electronic meal
It’s seems it was just yesterday
I had a book there was no way to play
I’d settle down under my sheets
Use a flashlight in order to read
Hey
I want go back, to those simple days
Without downloads or batteries to drain
I want my books in paper or hard
Two perfect covers made out of card
You see
It’s crazy
It’s so unreal
It’s crazy
This electronic deal
So do away with wires and steel
I’ll read my fiction and fantasy
Deny them all my money to steal
Give my dollars for book that are real
Because
They’re crazy
With shit so unreal
I’m not crazy
For an electronic deal
oh
It’s crazy
It’s so unreal
It’s crazy
An electronic meal
Don’t
Be crazy
Keep it real
They’re crazy
An electronic steal
8:18
8:18
ABC
123
Poetry
Can’t you see
It sure’s ez
To rhyme with flea
You bend a knee
Climb a tree
Laugh with glee
So listen to me
And nod and agree
Go through from A to Z
All the world will rhyme with flea
8:8
Sun set
Cool wind
Heat escapes
Big yawns
Air escapes
See my teeth
Long days
Energy gone
Eyes so heavy
Time slows
Inches away
It too escapes
Night comes
Wait for morning
Then renew