Latest ode – drafts

Better Bar None

Kevin is from Galway,
In case you couldn’t tell.
He likes to follow Connacht,
(They’re not doing very well.)
So when they scored a precious try
And he was at the game
Standing at the crowded bar
He missed it, what a shame!
Why not switch the green for white
And sport a bloody hand
Every honest Ulsterman
Would surely understand
There’s bound to be some bonus points
And Ulster tries galore
So fetch your pint in total peace
Knowing there’ll be more

Awesome Beauty

There’s a girl at the bar with a look in her eye
That turns men into milksops all furtive and sly
Then a suitor stepped forward, his heart in his hand
“You have me bewitched, I await your command”
A withering sneer crept over her face
“Be gone and desist, get out of this place!”
He left with his spirits crushed and forlorn
Regretting the day such a fool could be born.

The pause was so gloomy, but luckily brief
When a young man approached, a notable thief
Who thought he could steal a kiss with his guile
She heeded his words and then with a smile
Decked him so sweetly, floored by one punch
A small interruption before she had lunch.
A huddle of hopefuls propelled a fresh swain
With nothing to lose and beauty to gain.

He carried himself with swagger and charm
Avoiding the reach of her pugilist arm
“What will it take, to find favour with you?
My motives are noble, my character true.”
She considered the speaker and then gave riposte
“The price is too high, you won’t like the cost.”
“There is no price too high, my bounty is huge
No more delay, no more subterfuge.

Ask, it is yours without terms or condition
Careless of danger or risk of perdition”.
Thus was decided his terrible fate
And all for the chance of a beautiful mate
He didn’t protest or try to retract
The bargain was struck and that was a fact
He plucked out his eyeballs and cut out his tongue
He would be silent and she would stay young.

          

                         Pollocks

The order of words, their metre and rhyme

Drain inspiration just some of the time

And if prose is your passion but not punctuation consciousness streamed in dire obfuscation then vomit thoughts freely in colourful splatters expressing yourself ‘cos art really matters

 

          Turn it down 

Luminescent invasive light

Drowning out the black of night

We need the stars to shine and glimmer

So turn the dial and make it dimmer

                 

 

 

 

 

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