poetry critical

online poetry workshop


He burst out of his shirt
like spinach from Pop eyes can,
tan the colour of beetroot
sweat fell like chaff
as he roared with laughter
tongue pumped and pink
as ladies fingers
gave off great heat.
Yet he was chilli to touch
roughly skinned
hair sprouting
like pop corn from a tin
a radish tint
ran among his cauliflower ears
and while he pea'd out beer
beneath a mildewed moon,
we did a runner, sweating cobs
chasing down each face
like knobs of butter
on a potato plate
while he wandered howling
through a ploughed field,
giving low yield.

1 Oct 08

Rated 7.5 (8.3) by 2 users.
Active (2): 7
Inactive (1): 8, 10

(define the words in this poem)
(838 more poems by this author)

Add A Comment:
Enter the following text to post as unknown: captcha


Ha.. that's great.
 — thirdeyris

Oh, it's you. I should have expected...
 — thirdeyris

oof -- 7 turns this middle-school epic into a middle-school epic. wasn't there anything else on t.v. you could copy from while you wrote this? ok, so maybe at 'china buffet -- american, chinese, japanese cuisines' this would be ok on the menu. you're right, not al poetry has to be poetry.
 — joey

Is this a Larry Lark special?  Can't imagine who else.  
 — Isabelle5

Yes!  By the way, Larry, you'd be surprised how often I think of you as I go through my day (wink).  
 — Isabelle5

Dear Isabelle

Life is full of surprises

Larry potato head Lark
 — larrylark


I can hear you groaning under the weight of your same old menu
 — larrylark

Hi thirdeyris

If you don't expect you will not receive.

Lary to give is everything Lark
 — larrylark

Hi Isabelle

I guess i always knew i had a tiny corner of your heart

Larry lathario Lark
 — larrylark