Tag: poetry

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below.  Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

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A tisket for a tasket throw your mother in a basket

Put the basket in the fire watch the flames as they grow high

 

A tisket for a tasket put the baby in the basket

Watch the baby sail away and then rule the land one day

 

A tisket for a tasket push the boat man in a basket

Put the basket in the river watch him drown and watch him shiver

 

A tisket for a tasket put the lover in a basket

Pop the basket in the pot serve the lover piping hot

 

A tisket for a tasket shove the father in the basket

Hang the basket from the tree watch him jig and dance with glee

 

A tisket for a tasket lay yourself down in the casket

Put the casket in the ground there you can’t make any sound.

 

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below.  Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

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Oh take care to assume

or to careless presume

that the world will still be there tomorrow

for it could all just end

so wise up don’t pretend

as it could all just end in real sorrow

 

We could spin into the sun

Then we’d all be well done

And sun screen wont do no good at all

We could suffer a blast

From a meteor fast

Which would melt us in its fireball

 

Or a virus that turns

you to mush as it burns

your insides and they drip from your pores

Or a zombie infection

And your without protection

And your wife eats your brain while you snore

 

Perhaps creatures from space

Who would eat off your face

And lay eggs in your gut a foot long

And you’d burst at the seems

As young creatures burst free

And they feed on your corpse and grow strong

 

So take heed and beware

Live each day and take care

As today could well just be your last

You could die in your chair

No one find you and there

You’d be found, face chewed off by your cats

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below.  Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

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There was going to be a poem in response to the daily prompt and it was going to start like this:

“She was hobbit bobbity the queen of blow jobbity”

I then thought better.  Not that it would not have been funny – to me at least – it would have, it is just that I don’t really want to besmirch the idea of the Hobbits with the idea of them overly sexual.  Obviously they have hobbit loving but I hold them very dear and as a huge Tolkein fan would prefer to not imagine Pippin and Merry naked, eyes closed enjoying the oral pleasures of the afore mentioned blow jobbity.

You should thank me really because I am doing my very best not to ruin The Lord of the Rings for you by using sentences such as:

“Samwise squealed with delight his buttocks clenched quite tight…”

I realise that would be upsetting for some, and rightly so. No one wants to have to consider the fact that Frodo and dildo kind of rhyme, and god forbid they end up in a sentence such as “Loins on fire Mr Frodo, brandishing knobbly dildo, did approach…”  That would just ruin your Sunday and I just would not want to do that .

So no need to thanks me, let’s just all breathe a collective sigh of relief that this is most definitely not a gratuitously filthy piece about Gandalf’s staff…

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below.  Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

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The cranks that creak they get the oil

creation running smooth

The cogs that whir the chimneys belch

The pistons thrust, wheels move

 

Red lights burn bright, see furnace blaze

Hear click and clank and whir

It trundles slowly through the night

Black smoke it fills the air

 

Atop he rides his dour machine

Colleting souls for fuel

Wheels turn, cranks pull and push and thrust

Boned finger pointed, cruel

 

With oil that’s squeezed from those he finds

He greases, handles turned

His cogs and pulleys, back and forth

Remains discarded, burned

 

To fuel his creature, through the dark

In search of those who stray

From light to dark and pledge themselves

Until the end of days

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below.  Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

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Fidgety Fiona

Was a groaner

And a moaner

And the sort of girl your mother wouldn’t like

 

She would tease

And she would please

And she would have you on your knees

And then maybe she would ride you like a bike

 

She was never sated

Though many men she dated

While some others sat and waited

Hoping maybe soon it might just be their turn

 

But soon it went awry

And Fiona she did die

And the men all wondered why

And soon they were a ghastly truth to learn

 

For it seems Fiona sweet

The dark darling of the street

In the air often her feet

On the corner her wares eagerly parades

 

And the men she satisfied

Very soon withered and died

And their wives gnashed teeth and cried

For Fiona gave them syphilis and aids

 

M’s writing prompts for March came with the following instructions:

“…set your timer for ten minutes and begin writing about one of the prompts listed below.  Don’t worry about spelling, punctuation, neatness, or anything like that; just write!”

Let us see what I can do in ten minutes…

You can see the prompts here.

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He’s the king of the seas, he explores for the queen

And her court they await his delights

He amazes and thrills and his deeds pay the bills

And he looks so damned good in those tights

 

With a flourish and swirl he appears to the court

Women love him and men think he’s great

Walter Reighleigh’s no match for his most recent catch

And the Queen and her court congregate

 

Says Victoria “Do tell, your gift would do most well

To compare to My Walters potato

For it brings me delight so must yours here tonight

else they’ll lop off your head at my say so”

 

So he reached for his bag and the court fell quite still

It was velvet and plush and quite purple

And he reached deep inside and with face filled with pride

He pulled out a quite fab pair of nurple

 

The court gasped quite amazed and the clapped and they raved

Such a sight they had not before seen

He approached to the throne with the pair quite full grown

And presented his gifts to the queen

 

With their bright bush tails and their thick purple scales

And long legs and short arms and pink hair

And their bellies quite round and their low gurgling sound

It was surely a breath taking pair.

 

“Oh how quite wondrous” she said making a fuss

And she held them, and seemed most excited

Walt’s potatoes forgot, and right there on the spot

To his knees and was by the Queen knighted