From Robert Lee Brewer:
For today’s prompt, write a lament poem. Maybe you lament a relationship or a missed opportunity. Or maybe it’s that doughnut (maybe speaking from personal experience). Whatever it is, today is the day to let it all out–in poem form, of course.
Ah! should I lament
ReplyDeletethe swift passing of the years?
not for a moment!
I could lament that. Not the passing of year, but the SWIFT passing of years. They sure do go by too quickly.
DeleteWell, not the passing, but I agree with Victoria, the swiftness, alas. Nice one.
Deletedoes time get quicker as we get older, or is that just my normal craziness ha ha - tick tock paul.
Delete" things that happened in the past only happened in your mind " - david bowie.
ReplyDeletewritten in the rain in the crappy park, so it might be a bit soggy.
ReplyDeleteREMEMBER, REMEMBER
remember when things used to make some sort of sense?
and people accepted the consiquence
can't find any sense any more
stupidity behind every door
and no real law
remember when homeless people didn't have to live in cheap tents?
'cos they couldn't pay their rents
while chanting endless laments
because all the money resides with the posh ladies and gents.
remember when... can be the saddest words spoken or the sweetest
DeleteGood poem, but no I don't think things have ever made sense.
Delete(SIGH)yes, and the odd thing is 'Twas ever thus.
Deletei remember bonita......that's why i drink so much
Deletequite right victoria. it's not like the 20th century made any sense. we just see it through rose coloured glasses - oh! the beatles and elvis made sense - all you need is love - paul.
Deleteand twill ever be tash.
DeleteSecrets slither down
ReplyDeletehallways concealed by doorways
eclipsed by shadows.
Her red lips, red hair
red dress, shimmer in dim light
as the door opens.
"Stop," she cautions, then
views the intruder, smiles
with invitation.
Case of mistaken
identity, so like him,
she discerns too late
it was not bright, door
unlocked, unprotected. One
can intrude unheard.
"Pizza?" he inquired.
Pepperoni, sausage. Smells
waft across the room.
Memories flood her
senses, family dinners,
Friday gatherings.
"So like your father,"
she says, "thought you were a ghost
come back to haunt me."
"I battle that ghost
each day." her visitor puts
forth. "He's never gone."
A good deal of time
has passed since their last meeting
yet they do not touch.
"You should, could, have warned,
prepared my marrow for this
abrupt reunion.
Why now?" she laments,
purses her red lips, turn her
red dress to the wall.
and what will happen tomorrow?
DeleteDid you mean turns? I too eagerly await your next verse.
DeleteYes, "turns." Nothing like messing up when you've only got 17 syllables. LOL. Thanks for catching that.
Deletethink i've met her vic - love and peace - paul.
DeleteA Lament for Got Poetry
ReplyDeleteGot Poetry is soon to be
no more, no more.
and I am sad as I can be,
heart sore, heart sore.
It has been very good to me
alas, alack to be no more
and so I write now mournfully
heart sore, heart sore
Got Poetry is soon to be
no more, no more.
Perfect response for the prompt!!
DeleteI had forgotten all about that site... lol... out of site :-) out of mind
Deletei loved gotpoetry. it got me through a very difficult time in my life. wasn't so fond of the people in charge of it. my arguments on there are legendery.
Deletewhat makes me sad, is all the great poets work that was lost when it shut down. like my favourite poet mahala blu adama. she never made copies and sometimes used to scrawl her poems in blood. done that a couple of times myself, when i ran out of ink - love and lament - paul.
Couldn't resist posting this, will try to do another, no guarantees.
ReplyDeleteSenryu Lament
ReplyDeleteIn days long ago
people prayed a whole lot more
and swore a lot less.
I don't think that's particularly true, they just had different swear words. LOL.
Deleteif we look back things really have always been pretty much the same but cute poem
Deleteseems we have more to swear about nowadays.
DeleteSo I did after all.
ReplyDelete