The Quiet Conclusion to a Most Unfruitful Endeavor

The end is not quite here yet.

A certainty with which I would bet.

I don't know

Who would go

But someone might just fret.

Neighbour

Who is this stranger at my doorstep,

Busking beyond his heart's content?

Rhythms birthed in a foreign land,

That are too far away from home.

Who is this brother, whose misstep

Was to wander into too much rent?

A pocket endlessly leaking sand,

His bills make up the greatest tome.

Jump or my emo indulgence

It's quiet on a night like this.
The breeze is a gentle bliss.
The heights leave a kind kiss.
As the mind begins to reminisce
The ground is a hard target to miss.
It's quiet on a night like this.

Bells

Dawn! She's bright and early.
The carpet of creation gives
It's collective jawn. The story
Of a million ants, their lives
And deaths come together
To raise the triumphant groan
That won't be here forever
But for today pays of it's loan.

Apathy

The resounding start is slowly quieting down.
The big bang was one beautiful chord.
Men and animals dance at the great gown.
Forgetting it by the sword.

All creation is spontaneously bored.
Maturity is the great, ancient frown.
Maybe we missed that the lion roared,
And brought the lazy to town.

Argh!

She was left at the alter

He didn't find fault in her.

He was just a moron.

Couldn't cope with a son,

So had to go and run

Far away.

Fast forward five years.

She's dried up her tears

And walked next to a man

Who likes this boy

Even bought him a toy

Today.

The groom is dead-pan

He's lost even his latest fan.

She didn't think much of him

Loves the image of his grin.

He wonders who the bride

Might be having by her side

At bay.

You know how the story

Goes. He barges the homey

Life she has now, wanting

Her back. Simply self-serving

His own means and desires

Causing sparks in all her wires.

What dismay!

Limerick No.11

An old man once lived with a tick,
When saw someone pretty he'd be sick.
So when in a line
For lady's opine
It wasn't hard for them who not to pick.

Y to Z

Youngsters seem to understand
Zeal's show has been banned.

U to X

Underlings are a communist benefit,
Very unlike what Marx originally writ.
Wonderfully, all institutions seem to
X-ray their intentions, opposing them too.

Q to T

Quebec wasn't built in a day.
Rome doesn't hold the monopoly.
Sayings can sometimes deceive
Trying too hard to make you believe.

M to P

Money speaks a thousand languages.
Never failing the most nuanced syllable.
Old men have often said over the ages
Problems and pennies are under the table.

I to L

Indeed the jester jests
Just as in the court.
King's rarely like tests
Liking what's quickly taught.

E to H

Elephants are charging the circus.
Furry friends ask them to discuss
Going past the point of no return.
Hell might freeze, but it could also burn.

A to D

A little man was left alone.
Bent in his little bubble.
Cared for like a stone.
Done a hell load of trouble.

Ending

Half a story is a bit unfair.
Leaving me without the next stair.
An ending unsatisfying,
An anti-climax is so extremely trying.

Nevertheless I will look
For an ending inside a book,
That will leave me
Content with a cup of tea.

Bye Bye

She stood at the station for a while
With style - her fashion at trial.
She felt the stares on her back,
As she lay on the track.

Run

The need to race is astoundingly rare,
Since no one can guess how they'll fare.
But even a turtle can beat a hare.
Maybe we need to learn not to care?

Tuesday

It's quite a day for gluttony.
Though it may bely it's origin,
It breaks through monotony.
                       A tasty deadly sin

All hail the man who decided
To fry milk, flour and egg
Initially perhaps he was derided
                        Now his servants beg

On this merry Tuesday we praise
A fine art of flipping and frying
And now to the next emphatic phase
                           Where appetites are dying.                    

Cats

The cat has a definite bone to pick.
Don't get the wrong end of the stick,
But crawling all night in empty streets,
Following the melodious night beats,
Doesn't quite fill all feline requirements.
You see the whole host of commitments
Cramped in a sack, leaves the poor cat
With a lack of independence. So, a hat
May be an acceptable compromise,
Yes, the concept comes as quite a surprise.

The Apocalypse

The last drop of water has been poured out of the bottle.
As the four riders get their mustangs and release the throttle.
While the host of all the forget-me-nots hit the last wall.
Every last flower's been cut short and none stands tall.

All the routine's are suffocated to the point of stagnation.
No more itches, life, death, and all the wondrous irritation.
The final whine has been robbed out of every moan.
All creation releases it's great anti-climax, the pathetic groan.

A few wide eyed and mystified celestial junkies are left.
Those who have accepted an ancient, romantic theft.

 

Pretentious

Poetry has a love affair with ambiguity.

To the extent that their is no bush to 

beat around. No piñata donkey

to be disembowelled by children who

have an aim to find a lovely sweety.

The day a poem died, it reeked horribly.

A bishop read out it's final rites,

and gave it up to the pageless, the empty.

A few zombies gave us a fright,

But finally a rhyme resurrected mightily.

Salvation

Beat the beast inside of me,
Because it's just a little clapping monkey.
Making a clatter and a bang,
It used to be a force to reckon with till I sang.

A melody rose to the sky,
In conjunction with a tear jerking cry.
And mythology came true,
My facts rearranged - it changed my review.

The critics paused the critique,
The maths doesn't add when many are unique.
Old are some of these dreams,
So old and waiting that their breaking at the seams.

Something Resembling a Limerick

Once someone stole my passport,
So I built, around my identity, a fort.
It's just such a shame,
And also a bit lame,
That every brick paid didn't get the guy to court.

Beeve

There once was a man name Beeve,
Who never knew when to leave.
On one of those days
He dropped a few trays,
And then he departed, I believe.

Sometimes...

Sometimes I can't think of what to write,
So I go for a topic that is light.
Ensure there is a quite obvious rhyme,
And to write it, I take little time.