Out of Oz

Out of Oz

 

This poem is tripping down the yellow brick road

Stumbling over letters stuck in the cracks

Picking them up and filling its pockets

Saving them for a rainy day

Looking for some wizard to give it words

Of en(courage)ment, a phrase or two to

Send its ruby red heart spinning home again

But there is no one lurking behind the curtain

No one waiting with badges or magic spells

Only a little dog who remembers the way

So it spills words upon the bricks and

Writes a goodbye letter to this emerald mirage

 

Time’s Up

Time’s Up

This poem is not ready to move on,
but its adjectives have abandoned the rhyme
for warm, blue waters and sandy shores. The nouns are
running a marathon with the moon and it
finds itself no longer (verb)ose.
This poem is left with only two feet and no rhythm,
and the meter is almost on empty. It has become
un(in)formed and blank. Maybe now is the
time to stand(za) up, pack up its ink and go.
But it will be back to repeat the refrain.

One Last Chance

One Last Chance

This poem has one last chance
to play the game, make a name
for itself. It (day)dreams of fame and
glory, the hero of a story staring
moon and muses. It refuses to give up –
turns up, tuned up and ready to poem
It’s running out of time, maybe you could
spare a rhyme – a little rosemary and thyme
But don’t worry my dear, there’s
always tomorrow

Just Out of Sight

Just Out of Sight

This poem has seen it all
Trends the come and go – waiting


around the bend to return in
a slim disguise that can not


fool this poem
Long hair, short hair, no hair, facial hair


Wide pants, narrow pants, no pants
streaking across a field


Spikey heels, flat soles, flip flops that
used to be thongs, but now that is


something entirely different
Pop beads, love beads, crystal beads


Moon rocks, pop rocks, pet rocks,
Rock ‘n Roll


This poem has watched it all come and go,
but it won’t stop looking until


it sees peace

Of Poem and Nonsense

Of Poem and Nonsense

This poem is tied up in (k)nots trying to
make sense of the letters swirling around


it – Syllables that won’t keep time, tripping
over metered clown feet – Phrases


of the moon lined up and made to
stan(d)za in groups of four or maybe two


What’s a poem to do when there is no
rhyme or season to its form? When it finds


itself trickling away into an inky stain on paper ?

Heart of the Matter

d’Verse Poets Pub – Quadrille #134: We {heart} poems

Heart of the Matter

This poem would like to get right
To the heart of the matter
Dispense with heart-shaped boxes
And frilly construction paper hearts
No plucking heartstrings or silly
“I heart you” stickers. This poem wears
its heart on its sleeve and shouts,
“I love you!”


https://dversepoets.com/2021/08/23/quadrille-134-we-heart-poems/

Aced It

Quadrille #77 – Ace of Poems
De (whimsygizmo) is testing us over at the Pub

Aced It
This poem is a rhyming ace
Has won first place
In a poeming race
A great big smile upon its face
A sassy curtsy performed with grace
It’s no longer commonplace
Claimed a spot in cyberspace
For you – in case
You require an embrace