By Earl Corp
Believe it or not, I'm not a poet. I do like to rhyme words, but I don't know a meter from an inch. I think counting syllables limits the creativity and doesn't give you enough to really develop a thought or topic.
I do make exceptions for Limericks, I LOVE Limericks. Can't write 'em, but love to read 'em. I think that is the true mark of a writer, you have to be a fan and like to read poetry.
I admit I don't like free verse poems and could/would never write one. I can't overcome that feeling that poetry should rhyme. I tend to gravitate towards stuff like Longfellow's Paul Revere's Ride or Dr. Seuss rather than Whitman or Sandburg.
When I look at other people's poetry I use four criteria to rate poetry--It rhymes, makes sense, is spiritual, and it invokes emotions within the reader. The last one is interchangeable with "touched me emotionally," "entertained me," or made me laugh. You don't have to hit all four criteria for five stars.
But to get five stars it has to make sense. To me that means the sentences go together and transition into the next one. If it doesn't rhyme I'm probably not going to award six stars, unless it really moves me. Limericks automatically get a sixer.
Some say my view of poetry is myopic, maybe so but it's my view. Art is in the eye of the beholder, and my eye looks for rhymes.
I guess I wanted to be a lyrics writer in another life. Shel Silverstein wrote A Boy Named Sue which was originally a funny poem. I love the rock ballads penned by Bob Seger, now that's poetry.
I'm not Silverstein by any stretch of the imagination, but when I write a poem it's a fun write for me. But I don't think I'll be packing up and heading to Nashville any time soon to start my career as a song writer.
I can tell the truth and make it rhyme, but I can't put a tune to it to save my life. I guess that's why I like Weird Al Yankovic and Cledus T. Judd's parodies so much. They let someone else figure out the tune then make up their own songs.
Without further ado....
Here we go oh boy,
I've penned poems to enjoy,
Notice that all the time,
Every poem will rhyme,
Please don't hate,
When you read and rate.
| Author Notes |
Not all writing is created equal and mine doesn't compare to some of the poets here on Fanstory such as RoyOwen, JannyPan, Dolly's Poems, Robyn Corum, or BeasPeas. Now those are poets, I'm just a hack. The only reason I'm doing this is to get attention, I love positive attention.
So sit back and enjoy!! |
By Earl Corp
I know it’s been said,
That disco is dead,
Tho It may be in the past,
But not so fast,
Whats’ that sound
Let’s Turn the Beat Around,
When I put on my Boogie Shoes,
I just can’t lose,
This ain’t no jive,
I Will Survive,
No time for a wife,
I Love the Nightlife,
That girl is pretty swell,
She Rings My Bell,
Don’t want no tussle,
I just want to Hustle,
If you want to play,
Come on down to the Y.M.C.A.,
Maybe if I have the Last Dance,
She’ll give me a chance,
This could be tough,
I’m dealing with some Hot Stuff.
She said no kinda mean,
She thinks she’s a Dancing Queen,
She actually called me a geek,
In reality I’m a Super Freak,
What’s this I’ve seen,
It’s the Dancing Machine Billie Jean,
I’m not taking a dive,
I am here Stayin Alive.
You might think disco sucks,
But we all have an inner Disco Duck,
| Author Notes | This is the longest poem I've ever written. I took advantage of the no style clause. You true poets are going to hate this no meters and forced rhymes, but that's ok I can't get better without feedback. Have at it people. |
By Earl Corp
It happened Once Upon a Time
My Favorite Wife took up with that slime
It started in September
It became An Affair to Remember
He tried it all to seduce her, even the kitchen sink
What worked was That Touch of Mink
It all became so sad
That woman was Born to be Bad
You would think a wife who will cheat
Would be a little more Discreet
I never took much stock
You know how People Will Talk
My life became a country song
People were saying She Done Him Wrong
I did not need to be a sleuth
To uncover The Awful Truth
They told me they were done
But I shot those Sinners in the Sun
For my crime they hung me
Which I think is pretty swell
Merrily as We Go to Hell.
| Author Notes | I know it doesn't fit any meter models and the rhymes are forced. This is supposed to be a fun contest an I had fun writing this-that's what counts. |
By Earl Corp
There's nothing more fun
Than playing in the sun
I feel I'm on a roll
When I'm underneath Old Sol
I cannot explain
Why I hate rain
And you know
I also dislike snow
You know I get rowdy
Whenever it's cloudy
Because I'm pining
For the sun to be shining
You can keep Canada
I'll go to Florida
What would be greater
Is to get closer to the equator
If you don't want me unhappy
Bring the sun back
And make it snappy
The sun will make me happy Jack
| Author Notes | Be kind. Enjoy |
By Earl Corp
Wouldn’t it be bodacious,
To have a bathroom spacious,
But for the present,
You can find me in my tent,
It would be sensible,
To consider my arrangements flexible,
It really makes you think,
That instead of a regular sink,
To be sure it's a bucket and dipper,
Which to me is obviously hipper,
If people didn’t stop and stare,
When I bathe in the fresh air,
When I go pee and poop,
I leave the stoop,
And go out back,
Behind the lilac,
Sometimes I might stir,
To do my business behind the fir,
Really I ask for nothing more,
Than a shed with a half moon on the door
| Author Notes | Using the words in the contest directions wasn't easy, maybe it would be if I did free verse. Ok you real poets, have at it. |
By Earl Corp
My biggest flaw is we're hoarders,
My stuff exceeds my house borders,
From door to door,
Ceiling to floor,
I can get there without fail,
Let me bust a trail,
No need to be rash,
Quit calling it trash,
From room to room,
It's too much for a broom,
I have fifty single socks,
I'm not getting rid of that box,
I have all my Hot Wheels cars,
I'll need those empty jelly jars,
Those concert shirts from 1983,
Will once again fit me,
I have collected 1000 beer cans,
Hey my mom made those afghans,
Horse hoof bookends aren't crass,
They actually give the joint class,
Every single cranny and nook,
Is filled with a valuable comic book,
That copper jello mold,
Should never be sold,
No one escapes,
From my videotapes,
I need a trip to the dump,
To get rid of that clump,
This may not be smooth,
Maybe I ought to move,
Or better yet,
A bulldozer is a safe bet.
| Author Notes | You can laugh, but the inspiration came from somewhere. |
By Earl Corp
When I was seven,
I believed I'd go to heaven,
As I got older,
I became bolder,
Not believing I'd reach thirty,
My deeds became dirty,
And life became such a hassle,
My beliefs turned towards worm castles,
After a health scare,
At my mortality I did stare,
I kept my wife dear,
When she said remember it's faith not fear
Your doubts should be stored,
And rejoice that Christ is lord.
| Author Notes |
This is my first time entering a poetry contest, the topic caught my interest and inspired me. Regardless how people here rate me my wife gave me six stars.
Artwork by Google |
By Earl Corp
I never thought it was cool,
That for 180 days I had to attend school,
So after graduation I got a job,
How little my paycheck was made me sob,
So I decided to be all I can be,
By joining the U.S. Army,
A baby dying left me in tears,
So I left the Army after 12 years,
Right after I got home my mom and grandma died.
This left me fit to be tied,
While I felt I'd hit the skids,
I decided to work with kids,
So I went on the Magical Mystery Tour,
I really had to make sure,
That I genuinely wanted to be a history teacher,
And work with those creatures
Funny how life has gone around,
Because I had to teach year round,
I think in many ways,
I was better off with 180 days
| Author Notes | Only my second poem, be kind. Rhyming poem entry |
By Earl Corp
Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of language.
C'mon Dinky, let's go
It's cold here in the snow
You have pooped
You have peed
To stay out there is no need
It's about to storm
And the house is warm
Please again don't squat
Oh boy you pooped a lot
Goodness you are slow
C'mon Dinky let's go.
| Author Notes | We had Dinky 17 years, he had a stroke last night and we're going to take him to the vet after work so he won't suffer anymore. While he may have been Anna's dog, we shared a special bond. When I was bedridden with my spinal abscess Dink would lay with me. If someone came to the door he would stand over me and bark. |
By Earl Corp
Before Gettysburg was done,
One of Maine's favorite sons,
By and large,
led a bayonet charge,
When he was done,
The field had been won,
Much to the rebel's woe,
Chamberlain's men had no ammo,
Such a brave move,
Today is taught to our troops,
For his confident leadership,
Joshua Chamberlain was given a generalship.
| Author Notes |
Since I'm not really a poet and free verse isn't really my thing, I made it rhyme. Plus my meters are way off.
I have long admired the courage it took for Chamberlain to order the bayonet charge with no ammo. Enjoy, be kind. |
By Earl Corp
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Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of language.
It would take all the courage I could muster,
To be like George Armstrong Custer,
Nearly thrown from West Point on his ass,
For finishing dead last in his class,
Who knew what the future held in store,
He became a general in the Civil War,
Outnumbered just a smidge,
He was the hero of Cemetery Ridge,
He found peace to be lackluster,
So home went General Custer,
West he traveled many miles,
To do battle with the wily hostiles,
The battle he wouldn't live to rue,
Was the Little Big Horn with the Sioux,
The end came quick of course,
When he battled Crazy Horse,
For it was upon this land,
Custer made his last stand.
| Author Notes | I guess I got stuck on Georges. It was either going to be Custer or Patton. Patton turned out to be harder to rhyme. Enjoy!! |
By Earl Corp
This attempt is my best,
Poem of the west,
Some think it's a sin,
My name is Paladin,
When I come around,
And arrive in town,
Things begin to unravel,
I'm Have Gun Will Travel,
A man on the dodge,
Has to watch,
There is no slack,
They'll shoot your back,
Today I got a thrill,
When I met Wild Bill,
I rode into Abilene,
Feeling very mean,
Because of a buffoon,
I met in the saloon,
Something's in my craw,
I'll have to fast draw,
My temper will rule,
I don't suffer a fool,
I feel so alive,
When I draw my Colt .45,
I better shoot to kill,
Or I'll rest on Boot Hill,
I shot him in the head,
Now the fella is dead,
Uh-oh this could how it ends,
He had a lot of friends,
I'm losing hope,
They're carrying a rope,
Hanging tree ain't where it's at,
It's time for me to scat,
Being an outlaw, of course
I have a very fast horse,
Like a bat out of hell,
I'm riding pell mell,
The point might be moot,
A posse is in hot pursuit,
Oops they caught me,
Taking me to the nearest tree,
No more will my spurs jangle,
Cuz from a branch I'll dangle.
| Author Notes | We're taking it back to an old school western. I played around a lot trying to decide what to write, it started out being John Wayne and this is what I ended up with. Enjoy! |
By Earl Corp
Please let me explain,
My love for John Wayne,
He was simply the best,
Cowboy who tamed the wild west,
In 1930 they knew he wouldn’t fail,
When they cast him lead in the Big Trail,
But for 10 years he languished,
Many thought his career extinguished,
In Hollywood he was lurking,
The B Westerns kept him working,
He took whatever roles were handy,
He became the singing cowboy Randy,
He stopped the career slide,
By taking a Stagecoach ride,
His talent couldn’t be hid,
When he played the Ringo Kid,
With John Ford acting as coach,
His career back on track in Stagecoach,
The roles became more sporty,
Starting in nineteen-forty,
The character change in Red River,
Made movie goers shiver,
Because it was said,
He’d shoot Montgomery Clift dead,
Three times Wayne was super,
When he portrayed a cavalry trooper,
They toasted him with brandy,
For Horse Soldiers, Yellow Ribbon and Rio Grande,
He was far from a condo,
As Indian scout Hondo,
Jeff Hunter he didn’t nurture,
As Ethan Edwards the Searcher,
He should have flown like a rocket,
Instead of dying in the Alamo as Davy Crockett,
To Jimmy Stewart he brought balance,
In the Man Who Shot Liberty Valance,
He gave Leo Gordon such a sock,
As George Washington McClintock,
His acting was very stellar,
As the oldest Son of Katie Elder,
His fans would’ve thrown a fit,
If he hadn’t won the Oscar for True Grit,
We weren’t quite ready yet,
When he rode off into that western sunset.
| Author Notes |
I know my meters are off and some of my rhymes are forced. I'm not a poet by any stretch of the imagination, I just enjoy making rhymes.
Enjoy!! After all, You can't rebuke the Duke. |
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