Butchered To Make A Dutchman's Holiday
In prison cell I sadly sit,
A d__d crest-fallen chappie!
And own to you I feel a bit-
A little bit - unhappy!
It really ain't the place nor time
To reel off rhyming diction -
But yet we'll write a final rhyme
Whilst waiting cru-ci-fixion!
No matter what 'end' they decide -
Quick-lime or 'b'iling ile,' sir?
We'll do our best when crucified
To finish off in style, sir!
But we bequeath a parting tip
For sound advice of such men,
Who come across in transport ship
To polish off the Dutchmen!
If you encounter any Boers
You really must not loot 'em!
And if you wish to leave these shores,
For pity's sake, DON'T SHOOT 'EM!!
And if you'd earn a D.S.O.,
Why every British sinner
Should know the proper way to go
Is: 'ASK THE BOER TO DINNER!'
Let's toss a bumper down our throat, -
Before we pass to Heaven,
And toast: 'The trim-set petticoat
We leave behind in Devon.'
At its end the manuscript is described -
The Last Rhyme and Testament of Tony Lumpkin -
poem by Harry 'Breaker' Harbord Morant
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Related quotes
Song Of A Rhyming Man
I love the sound of rhyming words like Dan will rhyme with Ann
And I could never be a poet just call me rhyming man
This modern verse too much for me it's way above my head
Though modern poets are now the rage and Rhyme is with the dead.
I love the sound of rhyming words, I love the verse that rhyme
To blank or free or non rhyme verse prefer it every time
And there's many who will disagree and most will say I'm wrong
But give me ballad or rhyme verse or good old rhyming song.
You may say I am limited and with you most will agree
That I'm not into modern verse of twenty first century
But I've been an old style rhyming man since nineteen seventy three
And I am in my sixties now and there's no changing me.
I love the sound of rhyming words like Dan will rhyme with Ann
And I could never be a poet just call me rhyming man
And I am guilty of no sin and I can't see no crime
In liking sound of rhyming verse and loving words that rhyme
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Rhyming Flu
It’s 1: 15 A.M.
I’m sitting here in bed;
I want to go to sleep,
But rhymes are in my head.
I just came upstairs;
I was just on the com,
Working out a poem;
For Ainaa to recite in the morn.
The problem with rhyme and I;
Is that it starts and never stops,
Remember it’s one o’clock;
But rhymes still pulse my thoughts.
So I’m writing this very rhyme;
Hoping my rhyme runs out,
But such a hope’s impossible;
When my rhymes are as abundant as trout.
I know what you all are thinking:
“This rhyme is simply a gimmick;
This boy’s not really sleepy,
He’s wide awake with this limerick.”
“This story of sleep is really;
Just some tricky plot,
To make you think he flows out rhyme;
Like water from a cracked pot.”
But, nay, it is true;
I’ve got the rhyming flu,
I’m hoping that by writing this rhyme;
All my rhymes shall be through.
Aha, I know the cure;
The medicine’s no longer obscure!
To end this awful rhyme;
I need a word that does NOT rhyme!
I’ve heard of the word before;
It’s like English’s Achilles heel,
No matter how hard you rhyme;
Its un-rhyming-ness is an iron veil.
Touché now rhyming flu;
This word I give to you!
Try rhyming the word ‘month’
…Ha-ha, you can’t now, can you! ?
The rhyming flu has left me…
I can feel it leaving my mind…
Ahhh… I am so relieved…
The clock says it’s now sleepy time...
…zZzZZZ
poem by Warren Chan
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A brave Field Cornet
From a hillock
two Boer commandoes
ride into an English camp
and a few of the British are shot,
a lot are caught
and most flee away.
In the direction of the Tuli river
the enemy are followed in haste
where they join comrades
driving a ox wagon
and the Boers are marksmen
and the English flee again
to find shelter in a farmhouse.
The house is shot to pieces
and for the third time on one day
the British flee again
and the next day,
the Boer commando captures nine wagons
with food and ammunition.
The day following Boer scouts
find an abandoned enemy camp
with burned out fires,
tents, horses and mules
and see a big cloud of dust
coming along in their direction.
There’s a Field Cornet
that does not ride away,
while two Boer commandos
escapes to safety.
At dusk Jacobus Potgieter
finds more men with a canon
set on a hillock
and with just more than twenty men,
he prepares
to give resistance to a huge enemy force.
The darker the night gets,
the nearer the cloud of dust comes
and Jacobus Potgieter and his men
are ready to shoot killing shots
and to let no Englishmen past them
and there’s a rambling sound,
but no enemy appear
and they are invaded
by a swarm of locusts.
[Reference: The “JJ Potgieter manuscript.” Second Anglo-Boer war. Boer commando= A group of Boer farmers in a citizen force militia under a Commandant (Lieutenant-Colonel) .]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Most Of The So Called Literary Experts
Most of the so called literary experts are dismissive of rhyme
They say 'tis the poetry of a long gone time
Yet the poets that they laud the poems they do write
Cannot be put to music and are hard to read and recite
The rhymer of today is not looked on as a poet
Or is not seen as one worthy of literary note
By the so called literary experts with literary degrees
Though their judgement on what is or is not poetry not everyone does please
They never will convince the old style rhyme buff
To him or her well written rhyme is not throw away stuff
In well written rhyme are the words to a song
And good rhyming poetry to music belong
Yet the degreed literary experts who on poetry like to have their say
Dismiss rhyming poets and their poetry as of yesterday.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Waiting For Waiting's Sake
Waiting is more of a feeling than a state or being
When you wait it's not really time spent that weighs on you
IT's really the purpose or reason and the place you wait too
Waiting never is waiting even when it's 5 or 10 or 20 hours or more
It becomes waiting when you feel impatient
When you feel you can no longer wait
That is truly when you being to wait
And wait for waiting's sake
It always seems like more minutes more time
More time is what makes it weigh more, but it's a change
In emotion basically an enigma
It is not even what you do as you wait
If anything at all, it strangely is just the
Feeling. Consider when you simply stare at the
Clouds for hours, you wait and wait
Watch the clouds' gait
But not even a minute passes not in your mind
Not any second is wasted of left behind
But waiting 2 simple minutes is waiting
When you let emotions take hold
Even asked to wait another second is brazen and bold
So you see it is only that emotion
Only that feeling, desire for resolution and restitution
It's funny how we are not controlled by
States or circumstances
Mere happenstance
But rather we are controlled by character, emotion, our feeling
No state of the world can change them
It is only when
We allow our perceptions to change, it is only then
Circumstance even affects us, it only happens when we let it
And so I say when we wait and don't feel waiting
It is not waiting at all, no matter how much time
I realize I feel nothing, no sense of waiting not when I rhyme
I lose perception of time and so I have unlimited time
To write and write and write each and every single
Time I wait and even I wait for waiting's sake
poem by David Knox
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Mine Doesn't
as i once told you
it is easy to rhyme like
roses are red
violets are blue
flush the toilet
when you are through
or try
this one
eine meine meine moo
catch the monkey by the
tor
but i do not like
rhyming
it is simply
not enduring
it is a matter of
style
and anyone can
be a poet
if he simply
devotes time
to the bursting of emotions
like sun, like
the first day
when rays spread like
hands on the
breasts of the
mountains
most poems rhyme
mine doesn't.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Why Do I Write Poetry?
Why do I write Poetry?
The answer is not plain to see,
As a Legal Cashier I earn my Living,
For me and my family.
Why do I write Poetry?
Thoughts come to me in rhyme and verse,
They have to be worked on continually
To make those lines seem terse.
Why do I write Poetry?
One day HE’ll answer me,
Hopefully while I’m on this Earth,
Before I reach Eternity.
Why do I write Poetry?
Why must my lines scan and rhyme?
Not only on this occasion,
But forever, and all the time.
Why do I write Poetry?
Why put them on your website?
To leave my Thoughts and Visions of Life,
To you all and posterity.
© Jonathan Goldman [JGthepoet] - 9 April 2005
poem by Jonathan Goldman a.k.a JGthepoet
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0007: 2007 - Year Of Revolting Poets
2007, he said, was a memorable year for poetry.
A world conference of poets held
somewhere NewMex way, came to the view
that the rhyming dictionary put altogether too
great a stricture on the structure
of verse, and worse;
it was time, for rhyme
(which came back into fashion
that year with a passion)
to be more relevant,
less of a white elephant;
so
all poets who
wrote in English
(including Strine)
were asked to define
what words should be allowed appropriately to rhyme.
It took a little time;
since they couldn’t agree about basic words
(some felt that ‘ words’ shouldn’t even rhyme with ‘turds’,
they thought that any such ditty
would be shitty;
some thought that such a possibility of rhyme was crap,
and would lead to poetic mishap)
So, first things first, what would be appropriate
to rhyme with love?
(which of course some pronounced luv,
others, lurve) :
some felt that rhyming it with ‘above’
had just a smidgen
of politically inappropriate reference to religion…
* * *
The whole idea was well meant
but you can see just how it went –
it took until 3006
even just to fix
after long debate upon it,
fourteen rhyming words to cover one suitable sonnet
by which time
those celebrated poets who did or didn’t rhyme,
while English tended to vanish,
were writing in Spanish
or Chinese;
bringing American-language poetry to its knees.
then vowelless txt
became the nxt
style
for a while
(which left poetry weakened,
bcs t cdnt b spknd) …
* * *
But I’ll have to cease this sorry tale;
I’ve a Hallmark card I need to mail.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Love 'em Or Leave 'em
Blowing'cross the universe
Like a shooting star that lost its way
Looking back with no regrets
Living tor what hasn't happened yet
Love 'em or leave 'em
No rhyme or reason
Break out to make out
No change in the season
Love 'em or leave 'em
Put out or get out
Simple survival
No more denial
Love 'em or leave 'em
Roller coaster flies oft the track
Hits you in the face, stabs you in the back
They Jake your right, leave nothing left
Steal you blind, your mind and leave you deaf
Love 'em or leave 'em
No rhyme or reason
State of the nation
Pure intoxication
Feel the vibration
The anticipation
Simple survival
No more denial
Dont wanna waste no time
I'm never losing track
I've seen il all and so much more
But I ain't seen nothing yet
Love 'em or leave 'em
No rhyme or reason
State of the nation
Pure intoxication
Feel the vibration
The anticipation
Simple survival
No more denial
Love 'em or leave 'em
song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My First Sonnet
If I’m to write and form a little song
I’ll choose to use the English code and rules
I’ll learn the laws to lay my bricks along
The roads I build of codes with English tools
Now two will rhyme with four and one with three
I’ll split the rhyme between the stanza breaks
The last two lines will rhyme a final plea
With glee that creeps in hands of codes I make
Iambics boast control as they decide
The words to run as feet conduct the line
I’ll snare the code that hides along and strides
In quatrains forming claims of codes that shine
I’m here alas to weave and write my fun
I’m taught I’ve learned and now my sonnet’s done
poem by Paul Moosberg
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My Rhyming Poem
I am 55 and a little crazy,
If I stand up to fast things become a little hazy.
I need another line,
I am really in a bind.
So early in my rhyme,
I've really messed up this time.
Hey this is kinda fun,
Reminds me of good old days in the sun.
This time I have really lost my wits,
Man this surly is the pits.
Some day I'll get this down,
Or Saint will take me to the pound.
With blue juice he'll say,
Baby you just couldn’t rhyme so this is your day,
The day I do this often,
Is the day I lay in my coffin.
I hope all of this rhyme’s,
Because GOD knows I have tried 100 times.
I think I might have been a tard,
My first rhyming poem really wasn’t that hard.
(this goes to all my friends and readers on here to show you I really cant rhyme but this was fun maybe I will do it again I said maybe Saint Maybe lol... I Love you guys)
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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A Liking For Rhyme
My literary tastes have not changed with the passing of time
I have always been one with a liking for rhyme
To rhyme is so easy as some like to say
Though rhymers seem so out of fashion today
But I am a lover of ballad and song
And rhymes with a lilt that just jingle along
I loved reading the old rhyming verse as a boy
Something to this day I do thoroughly enjoy
Some literary dons refer to a rhymer as a doggerel poet
As not anyone worthy of literary note
From the Poets Club with their words rhymers they exclude
For educated people they seem rather rude
But I am a fan of good old rhyming stuff
And for many years now I have been a rhyme buff.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Shoot From The Hip
If you want to get it quick.
I shoot from the hip.
Not a mumble do I grumbled,
Nor backstabbing gossiped hits.
I'm not one to leave you wondering...
What's on my mind,
Not a bit.
I don't hide my words,
When I choose to be heard.
If you want to get it straight.
I shoot from the hip.
Without a moment of delay.
I say it I don't spit.
If it's not liked how it is,
That's your business...
I'm not pissed.
Nor will you leave me in a fit.
To quiver with shut lips.
If you want to get it quick.
I shoot from the hip.
Not a mumble do I grumbled,
Nor pout and sit.
I'm not the kind to leave you wondering,
What's on my mind to admit!
Or suggest you see a psychic...
To tell you what you want and like it!
If you want to get it quick.
I shoot from the hip.
I'm not the kind to leave you wondering,
What's on my mind to admit!
If it's not liked as it is...
I'm not the kind to get pissed.
I'll deliver what I give you,
And that is it!
'So you're sayin' you do what? '
I shoot from the hip.
'What about the ears of others?
I shoot from the hip.
'What if they should have druthers? '
I said I shoot from the hip.
If they don't want to hear it,
Like it is from my lips...
They can turn around and I will kick them,
Where they are split!
Not a mumble do I grumbled.
I shoot from the hip.
No stumble do I fumble on...
I shoot from the hip!
If it's not liked how it is,
I will not get pissed.
Nor will I leave you quietly,
To quiver with shut lips.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I write because I want to
I write because I want to,
I am going to wear my hair short in a military style
practise disciple to jog every day
to keep my life fit and balanced
and will write verses according to my beliefs
putting the government
and everyone that oppress my people
in their place
and if it wants to rhyme, I will let it rhyme,
I will use free verse if it wants to
and I will tell what is hurting me,
what is having disconcert,
what brings happiness to my life,
what I see as beautiful
and of everything
that leads to destruction or to a greater experience
and even in the darkness I will dig.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Sonnet- Sonnet Needs Rhymes
Can you a Sonnet write without its rhyme?
Now people want the modern verse that's free;
As ideas get stuck and cramped with time,
A Sonnet's like leafless branches of tree!
A Sonnet's great for men who rhyme too well;
Its beauty lives in metre, rhythm, rhyme;
Yet, it can never run into 'pel-mel';
The sonneteer can write in any clime.
Why abhor rhymes and not a Sonnet write?
Each genre has its rules to comply with;
Why sleep all day and stay awake all night?
Rhyme-play is done by Kindergarden kith!
Why ridicule something you can't do well,
Much things are done by practice, Sonnets tell.
poem by John Celes
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Leave It Alone
When you feel it in your gut,
Something is not up to snuff...
Just leave it alone.
And if you see someone sweating,
Bundled up and in a rush...
Just leave them alone.
Don't bother to find,
If they're stoned to the bone.
If you see something that looks out of place,
Just leave it alone.
And if you see someone laughing with a smile on their face,
Just leave them alone.
Don't bother to find,
If they're stoned to the bone.
There is something on their mind only they condone.
If there's something in the mix that can't be fixed,
Just leave it alone.
Don't try to be the center of something that's a misfit,
Just leave it alone.
See it as it is to then go home.
Don't try to find a reason or a rhyme to define.
There's no sense today of any kind.
Everything is done to blow a mind.
If there's something in the mix that can't be fixed,
Just leave it alone.
If you know for you there is no benefit,
Just leave it alone.
Accept it as it is to then go home.
Just leave it alone.
Leave it alone.
If there's something in the mix that can't be fixed,
Just leave it alone.
Don't try to be the center of something that's a misfit,
Leave it alone.
Accept it as it is to then go home.
Leave it alone.
Leave it, leave it, leave it alone.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Am Tired Of The Rhyme I Am Tired Of The Rhyme
i am tired of the rhyme
and rhyme just to rhyme with you
at the expense of my thoughts
at the loss of my spirit
at the defeat of my spontaneity
my streams flowing and stopping looking for the proper word that sounds
like the previous word
until i am drowned by the rage and upsurge of my emotions
just let me be myself
let me flow like a river without the banks restraining me
in the canalization of my dreams
i will be nothing
but a line
parallel
to yours and they do not really look and sound right
i am afraid to say i am sorry
i will not be beautiful with you
i will be beautiful alone so alone in my own solitude.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Please Leave Me Alone
please leave me alone
I don’t want to think;
please leave me alone
I ‘m happy to be a slave
please leave me alone
I only want to be led;
please leave me alone
for I only want a book
that tells me what I should do
please leave me alone
for I’ve found what I need;
and it’s just so good
as others have done
all the thinking for you and me
please leave me alone
all I want are commandments;
please leave me alone
for I have all the instructions
please leave me alone
I’ve got all my answers;
please leave me alone
my masters
have expertly fixed my brain
and if you don’t leave me
alone now
I’ll call them in,
and I assure you,
they’ll gladly fix you
right and proper
so just leave me alone
for I’m well and content;
with the prescribed course
I’m saved,
and I’ve been assured,
I’m going to Heaven
where I’ll be an angel
with an unlimited supply
of ecstasy pills
so, I say,
please leave me alone
I don’t want to think;
please leave me alone
I ‘m happy to be a slave
poem by Raj Arumugam
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The Point Of Taste
Unhappy poets of a sunken prime!
You to reviewers are as ball to bat.
They shadow you with Homer, knock you flat
With Shakespeare: bludgeons brainingly sublime
On you the excommunicates of Rhyme,
Because you sing not in the living Fat.
The wiry whizz of an intrusive gnat
Is verse that shuns their self-producing time.
Sound them their clocks, with loud alarum trump,
Or watches ticking temporal at their fobs,
You win their pleased attention. But, bright God
O' the lyre, what bully-drawlers they applaud!
Rather for us a tavern-catch, and bump
Chorus where Lumpkin with his Giles hobnobs.
poem by George Meredith
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This Time Tomorrow
This time tomorrow where will we be
On a spaceship somewhere sailing across an empty sea
This time tomorrow what will we know
Well we still be here watching an in-flight movie show
Ill leave the sun behind me and watch the clouds as they sadly pass me by
Seven miles below ma I can see the world and it aint so big at all
This time tomorrow what will we see
Field full of houses, endless rows of crowded streets
I dont where Im going, I dont want to see
I feel the world below me looking up at me
Leave the sun behind me, and watch the clouds as they sadly pass me by
And Im in perpetual motion and the world below doesnt matter much to me
This time tomorrow where will we be
On a spaceship somewhere sailing across any empty sea
This time tomorrow, this time tomorrow
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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