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Poetry Magnum Opus

How to be a Social Nuisance, rv


dedalus

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Put in the knife

mix cant with rant

be a sycophant.

 

When trouble is rife

never think but throb

be a yob.

 

Eschew a wife

or significant other

be a mother...

 

Live for strife

and lurid news, rely

on booze.

 

With drum and fife

fill streets with banners

and bad manners.

 

Does death follows life

or life follow death?

I forgeth.

Drown your sorrows in drink, by all means, but the real sorrows can swim

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Great, light read for a grey Saturday morning. I am glad I had already swallowed my sip of coffee when I got to:

 

I forgeth.

 

Although, subconsciously, maybe I expected Kant with rant and sycophant. :)

 

Just kidding.

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Larsen M. Callirhoe

interesting way of putting it. why did you use the word forgeth as the last word in the poem? i don't get it, though i get the analogy of the whole poem till the last word. and by the way excellent poem.

 

victor

Larsen M. Callirhoe

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I shall consider this as a tenet or commandment for nuisance ......... splendidly written. Your rhyme scheme and short verses stitch the whole verse into a very good form ....... I too am thinking to become a nuisance now !

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  • 1 month later...
David W. Parsley

Why not a little of each? Keep 'em guessing...

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Frank E Gibbard

For what it's worth I'll just add this reminds me a bit Bren of this I liked first I heard it, a well known one by a Jenny Joseph.

 

 

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple

With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.

And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves

And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.

I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired

And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells

And run my stick along the public railings

And make up for the sobriety of my youth.

I shall go out in my slippers in the rain

And pick flowers in other people's gardens

And learn to spit.

 

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat

And eat three pounds of sausages at a go

Or only bread and pickle for a week

And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.

 

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry

And pay our rent and not swear in the street

And set a good example for the children.

We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

 

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?

So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised

When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

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