Sonnet: The Modern Poet Laments

Thou thinkest that this generation lacks
the purity & form of fallen Bards?
We sucketh. Thou art right. We play the cards
but stab the rules. We are as loose and lax
as diarrhoea. We apologise.
We shall discard our paragraphs and lines
of arguments & premises sublime,
& proceed to employ “methinks’ & ‘thys’,
because this is the fifteenth century.
May we submit to archaism now?
Très bien. When cliche shall besiege thy brow..
& move a little down to blind thy eye..

Forgive me, extempore gods of rhyme,
but I shall rhyme in the language of my time.

The Sanusi Family Had a Dog

My passion for canines was terrific.
The day he became part of th’ family,
the house was chaotic, confused, and hectic,
that none could touch his furry hair, but me.

He was so beautiful. We named him Tim.
but th’ family had big grudges for dogs-
Why? Muslim families are muslim
families– the laws detest hounds and hogs.

But this soon passed. He was unique, maybe
unusual, but young Tim won all their hearts
too quick. They’ll have big quarrels o’er who sees
to his diet, or walks him out to Marts.

This too soon passed. That Sunday in his Kennel,
we met him lying in a pool of blood.
His skull squashed to the wall. He smelled like hell.
No one’d the slightest idea what had trod

that harshly on the lowly dog. I shed
tears, shouted, I complained, blamed every soul.
None knew how much I hated how dogs howl,
so none will know I crushed the puppy’s head.

We Hate You (Animals Make a Collaboration Song)

You squeeze my scrotum for your milk,
you yet call me the bovine ilk–
& that’s only the best
among your painful jest:
you force me into leathered silk.

You give me shelter, take me to marts,
fill my bowl with bony parts.
But to anull it all,
you slant against the wall,
& spray me with your garlic farts.

Chorus:
We hate you, we hate you,
we hate your brain & curvy brow.
We hate you, swear we do,
we hate you’s all we say for now.

You call me slither, you slitter more.
You say I feel nothing in my core.
But you are the heartless,
the wild. You are the mess
between the thighs of your messy whore.

You tag me King, yet have me tamed,
‘majestic’ is reference to my name.
But the truth be said,
you bump off my head
& use the belittling word ‘game’.

Chorus:
We hate you, we hate you,
we hate your brain & curvy brow.
We hate you, swear we do,
we hate you’s all we say for now.

Poetry: Satire. Irony. Sarcasm.

‘He’s sending his love’ – WesternUnion advertisement.

Love’s never been blind, just transferable.
Friends agree he puts the food on the table.
To think his siblings are behind their rent;
the neighbours love & respect a heaven’s sent.
Required once are account name & pin,
& wife can transfer all her love to him.

‘The Messiah’, ‘a lover of children’,
in congregations, a fisher of men!
To think the kiss that comes with every phone,
the joy around the loud ‘I love you!’ tone.
To teach the mouth to bite the hands that feed her,
to think that love’s not money either.

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Love is not Money

‘He’s sending his love’ – WesternUnion advertisement.

Love’s never been blind, just transferable.
Friends agree he puts the food on the table.
To think his siblings are behind their rent;
the neighbours love & respect a heaven’s sent.
Required once are account name & pin,
& wife can transfer all her love to him.

‘The Messiah’, ‘a lover of children’,
in congregations, a fisher of men!
To think the kiss that comes with every phone,
the joy around the loud ‘I love you!’ tone.
To teach the mouth to bite the hands that feed her,
to think that love’s not money either.

Bippity Boppity Boo

Cain was banished from Eden, & moved to Nod, where he got married & raised children. — Genesis 4:16-25

To assume that when the world was made,
before the light & bliss & rue,
The Spirit posed with His Wand & Jade,
& bippity bopitty boo!

Before the dark time was referred to as Night,
before the dawn of day accrued,
before the tree, & Eden, & fright,
then bippity bopitty boo.

So came the cow, the pig, the sacred lamb,
the harmless cougar now in zoo,
& wolves & foxes, rabbit & ram,
& bippity boppity boo.

So formed the lands from waters, so formed grass,
so formed red roses & violets blue;
& lilies began to in purple amass
by bippity boppity boo.

How they were perfect just the way they were:
Murder was never a Tiger’s clue.
Dinosaurs threaded on insects with care.
Bippity boppity boo:

A monkey’s hand, a shark’s cartilage;
skeleton upright & true–
Adam was but of no particular age
by bippity boppity boo.

We know of Eve, the Serpent, the evil fruit.
We know of sacrifices too
of Cain & Abel & how one did one mute:
Bippity boppity boo.

Cain raised a family when he moved to Nod,
But what lady could he have woo’d?
To think the wand was waved & that by God,
& bippity boppity boo!

English is a freaking bitch

I lie in my mattress, but do not lie–
English is a freaking bitch.
Many a Bill will not pay his bill,
nor is a will to live within a Will.
Brain lessons ne’er lessen by getting high–
English is a freaking bitch.

The praying mantis always prays, yet is prey
in a toad’s goddamn dish.
‘A tale of a tail’ sounds not sound a poem,
but that’s not true about ‘A roam in Rome’.
This is so flay, my nerves & temper fray:
English is a freaking bitch!

Pile- compilation. No ‘bile- combilation’?
Do you still intend to ditch?
With stress comes distress, but crime not discrime?
‘Light year’ is a measure of length, not time;
but ‘Shake'”s of time, not masturbation?
Bitchy, bitchy, bitchy bitch!

‘Bury me with a berry’ is not a line
I’ve seen in any death wish.
None fain to feign grave verses on his grave,
nor does one spares he whom he spears. We pave
way & farewell to him in well-fair wine–
Ain’t English a freaking bitch?