Hello folks, I know you’ve missed me. I fell off the poetry wagon! But I am back on it and to make it up to all of you I will be posting six poems in six forms because I know all of you love to support me even though I am bad at reciprocation, but know that I love all of you! And I will try harder to support you as well!
This form is called The Bop where you basically write about a problem and then try to fix it.
I AM FUNNY I SWEAR
Abundant giggles flutter out of his mouth Cherub cheeks, laced blue eyes, and little hands. Flumping my body like an old dog playing chase He thinks I’m the funniest person in the room. I will go to any length to make him laugh Because, well, he’s the only one that does.
Why is my 2-year-old nephew the only person who thinks I’m funny?
I have clawed my way into my family’s hearts But I cannot seem to get to their funny bone. Maybe if I tried to get on their level. Tell jokes about Stan Bob Joe (Full name), almost breaking the printer at work But he didn’t, but if he did then “oh, boy, he would really be in for it.” And they would all laugh and laugh and laugh. Telling their friends that I am “just the funniest person you ever met!” Saying I should host dinners and have a special on Netflix called “Ms. Funny Takes the Office.”
Why is my 2-year-old nephew the only person who thinks I’m funny?
I know once he gets older he will realize his funny aunt is also the… Eccentric one with no kids and an unhealthy liking of house-broken squirrels. Full, hearty baby laughs will turn into concerned smiles. So here is the solution: find a serum to keep him young. Area 51 has to have something in their gift shop. I don’t need everyone to think I’m funny, just him.
Why is my 2-year-old nephew the only person who thinks I’m funny?
This form is called the Cascade, but it’s not really what you would think. It’s not visually cascading in words. You just take the first line of each stanza to use as the last line of the following stanza. And yes, I had to google what a “stanza” meant.
I’m Just Being Dramatic
I cleaned up my room and threw out my stuff. After I had to go out for a drink. Hopefully to celebrate and not to mourn. I didn’t think it would be very rough. Left with bare walls, empty drawers, it all starts to sink. I cleaned up my room and threw out my stuff.
The word “home” becomes torn. Leaving scattered pieces wherever you love. I didn’t think it would be very rough.
When I leave, it will be just another room. I bleached out the remains of me. The word “home” becomes torn.
This poetry style is called Cinquain and it’s really easy and that’s why I picked it.
A High School Party I Had
Bottles Emptied last night Strewn across white carpet. These are lessons learned after the Mistake.
This is called a Minute Poem because it hopefully can be read within a minute.
River
A silent, glass blue lake he stills Gloomy sun fills Mountains stack ‘round Fog sings no sound
A gaggle of trees lay silent Collected dents A dewdrop boat The soft wind floats
A peace felt only in dawn Clouds as white swan He mumbles sweet Words. Now complete.
This poem is called a Rondine, but I think it sounds like Rhonda and that would be funny if a poetry form was some white ladies name that probably drives her kids to LaCrosse practice and lives in the valley and she probably starts shit with the neighbors for letting their cat out.
Try to Breathe
There is no distraction from pent up, pure rage Mixing gloom and sorrow with hate. A stale, childish want you thought had no fate Thought you tore up the book, burned down the page A single drop tore it out of the cage Stewing in dreams, she has to wait. There is no distraction.
Once it bursts from the seams, put down your sage They will run from the depths, looking for bait. Often, it will try to roar straight Through down your throat in a sudden rampage. There is no distraction.
This is called the Tricube and it’s 3 in 3 in 3. Three stanzas, three lines in each stanza, and three syllables in each line.
Manipulation
Take a hit, just for me. It won’t hurt.
You will fall, likely bleed. It’s worth it.
I will run, hide away. Come find me.