Friday, November 16, 2012

Poetry at 3am

I can't sleep, so I'm up and decided to write. The problem is that I'm in that state where my brain won't shut down but it doesn't want to work too hard either. So what better than to settle between writing something I can publish and writing nothing at all? That's right. Metrically-challenged, grim poetry. Enjoy.

Of Fools and Their Unrestricted Pursuits

Where the Pollywogs Play
There is a pond where the pollywogs play, where their predators swim in the deep.
Their mothers attempt to dissuade them, but they find it too much of a treat.
So the pollywogs swim to the chagrin of their mothers who say their goodbyes.
For not a single one ever returns from that thrilling place where it dies.

Transgressing the Fence
A young drifter came upon a fence in the midst of his traveling road.
He, without thought, tore down the fence, as was his usually mode.
He walked only a few short steps before he learned why the fence was there put.
And then death came to claim him,
As the ground began to cave in,
And he was buried from head to foot.

Little Billy Blunder
Little Billy Blunder knew more than wisdom and age could say.
He needed not listen to the voices that petitioned when in the road he wished to play.
He knew better, so he said, than the rest of the dead who he joined as he ran in the way.

Roaring Ronny Rocket
Roaring Ronny Rocket ignored the red light just as he had done before
His plane flew just fine, just like any other time, so he paid little attention anymore.
But Ronny Rocket soon grew a frown as the plane went down
And it was death that made the last roar.

He that refuseth correction harms his own soul; but he that hearkens to reproof getteth understanding. (Prov 15:32)

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