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“The poet
must be
more useful
than any
other member
of his tribe.”
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~ Comte de Lautréamont
Elfje: (Cinquain)
.
tribe
his kin
your own folk
our band with pride
clan
.
Tanka: 5,7,5 7,7 syllables
.
scent was in the air
met a pie man goin’ where
to the county fair
one a penny hot crossed bun
a pun can be so much fun
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Poem:
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it was a full moon, what a scare
heard noises but nothing was there
men in wolves clothing were howling
the old wives faces were scowling
the shining brought out the lunatic
tricks to be played on the local dipstick
lore propagated by the areas monsters
what evils lurk in the deep ponds waters
souls revisiting on all hallows eve
reminders for those left to greave
could the cow jump over the moon
lovers taking the time to spoon
the moon is such a wonderful topic
except for those who are totally myopic
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ME and the Boss
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https://michaelerb.wordpress.com/
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ME and the Boss Poetry 