Sta.sh
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Waste We've ruined the lakes, the ponds, the streamsWaste by *Scarlettletters
and marred our soil with urban dreams -
Eden blighted by machines.
We plot and scheme; we plot and scheme.
We scorch the earth and sear the air;
our poison, seething everywhere,
destroys and leaves our country bare.
We do not care; we do not care.
Humanity has learned too late
our Eden is a fallow state;
and what we've sown will nere abate.
We reap our fate; we reap our fate.
Brendan and the Terrible, Very Bad, No Good Poem..This is dedicated to everyone who has ever participated in the December Forms Challenge. It is also dedicated to those who make traditional forms their stock-in-trade. You have my utmost respect. And it is for all of you who are very graciously supporting me in this madness.
If with the rest I feel compelled
to try and write a villanelle,
spill my ink and break my pen
and do not let me try again.
And if like Keats I crave an ode
on Grecian urns or autumn roads,
break my fingers, steal my pen
and never let me write again.
With meter and with rhyming verse
I try to dress my humble words,
arranging them into sestinas,
change epigrams
Indulgence Drink and dance and laugh and lie,Indulgence by *Scarlettletters
Love, the reeling midnight through,
For tomorrow we shall die!
(But, alas, we never do.)
Sage advice to heed in youth -
Excess, a drug we justify.
And indulgence is better than the truth -
Drink and dance and laugh and lie.
So choose your partners without care;
Keep your scruples lean and few.
Temptation wanders everywhere -
Love the reeling midnight through.
Drink and revel one last time;
Seek out pleasure where it hides.
Restraint's an over-rated crime -
For tomorrow we shall die!
And in the dawn of pain's regret
With heads aflame and clothes askew,
We may promise to repent
(But, alas, w
Jeeves Turning, the servant bears a flask upon his trayJeeves by *Scarlettletters
and makes his way throughout the drafty manor halls.
He enters a room and draws the curtains closed,
setting down the tray to the thud of dull disdain.
The lady of the house has called an early night
and bids her housemaids forth to lay the fire in the stove.
She brushes out her hair and contemplates her face as
turning, the servant bears a flask upon his tray.
He gathers up the evening's latest news,
remembering to check the morning post for mail.
He tucks the robe and slippers underneath his arm
and makes his way throughout the drafty manor halls.
He thinks about the family he has
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I want tchu, i want tcha, i want tchu tcha tchá tchu tchu tchá 
!!! 
Sadness 
Christa 
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!
!!
MaliciaRoseNoire - Graphic Designer 
