poetry critical

online poetry workshop

=For Opal=

She stood upon a stepping
stool to place upon the shelf
up high, two jars, her home made
marmalade: one of cherry, th' other,
orange.  Nothing rhymes with orange
in verse, nor even goes now on her toast;
burnt with nurse. An infamous rhyme from
another time. Let us quote: Whilst making
toast by the fire side, Nurse fell into the grate
and died.  But what made it ten times worse?
ALL of the toast was burnt with Nurse.
At least when Opal toppled from....
We learn how slips and shards become
related closely with the bum: cherry sweet
and orange, glassy bits, incorporated
so well, so far, so south her wits.

18 Oct 08

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Oh crap.  I have a presentment

of nothing further much to come;

everybody does love Opal Dear.

And all I offered to make her sneeze here

is this poem, which lacks even a tweezer.

Woe for me, the poet poor, whose nose

flattens on a well-slamm'd door.
 — netskyIam

no need for 'in verse', cause we're, you know, 'reading a poem'. oh... i see it's yours, nets, so i won't bother cause i know you won't.
 — geckodrome

joey gave me a Kindness Cookie nonetheless.  Thank you from Macadamialand!
 — netskyIam

netsky, take my advice, it might do you some good. Either take a vacation or better still a break from this site. You are in too deep and its effects are starting to show'

From Well Wisher
 — unknown

Thanks for the medical advice, above.  Why don't you show me your expertise here and write about me some witty verse? Can you do it?  Have fun.  I have a great deal of fun in life.  It won't do to pout, or "advise" artists in such dull words of dead prose as yours.
What say? Up to a literary challenge?  I guess not. Surprise me?
 — netskyIam