Your poems are winning, hitting like a blackjack 21

swishing as game ending championship 3-pointers

Emulating a one move 50 pt. Scrabble tourney score

your solid sonnets are Knights on King Queen forks

They're fresh grilled albacore w/lemon tartar sauce

a Haagen-Dazs sundae w/dollop of whipping cream

Your monumental odes tip Mt. Everest's inspiration

the rhyming kite you're flying 'tis quite high indeed!

One more day to rise and shine

Sweet grapes ripe upon the vine

Another shot to drink fine wine

Before we sink into the brine


One more day to seal the deal

Currents strong against the keel

Another dawn to take the wheel

Before we bed the bluefin reel


One more day to make the most

Clear skies bright along the coast

Another dusk to make a toast

Before we meet the on high host

Well now that's a great poem

contains both humor and joy,

and one very happy little boy


With healthy food, warm bed

the care of one strong mother

indeed quite uplifting brother

A poem a day

Meat for the mind

A bit of prose

Oft set to rhyme


A poem a day

Perhaps one more

Off and on three

Or even four


A poem a day

Sway for the soul

A pinch of pap

Words on a roll


A poem a day

Most fruitful bread

Fit comfort food

For pith well fed

Sarcasms and cynicisms

poison sugar cinnamons'

sad miserable ways to go

Karen began with the Rhoades Brothers,

back in the California Republicans of '73

"Tourists go home!" Peter cries cynically

he shouts it proudly, lips curling his glee

'Pon road rages in a fast-food fight,

big coliseum riot two wrongs right

at the drop of hat over no big thing

fisticuffs before we step in the ring


Sucker punch at a drunk bars stool

while Mr. T escalates I pity the fool

Karens and Kens aping rant videos

rotting to the core this reality show

Once I realized how weird,

awkward in my own crust

Self-conscious, paranoidal

I become after I consumed

Crock potted cannabis oils

strangely I still want some

I'm surreally frustrated

surfing evolution's wall

still so badly developed


Our monkey hand grips

yanking banana's swell

side way's non-solution

Winner, winner rhyming dinner,

picked a poesy of pickled poems

huffed and puffed, blew a sonnet

ate an ode dog with rime upon it!

I like this one the most

that's our best rune yet


Heretofore I doth agree,

never better does it get!

My poem's on top

of this poem pile

Saluting for

a little while


But all poems drop

in this poem place

Recaptured as

a warm embrace


My poem's on top

of this poem club

Collecting dust

Ah, there's the rub!

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