“If you got IT, flaunt IT”, they say
If I had IT, I’d be flaunting away
But about IT, I’m really no whiz
Since I’m not sure what IT really is
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Writing poetry is my addiction
Like drinking pot and smoking gin
All three of these afflictions
It’s plain to see can make me spin
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Haiky Challenge
Rhythms of Haiku
A true poetic challenge
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If you danced the Carioca
And you thought that dance sublime
You are obviously older
Then Methuselah past his prime
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I want to help my loving spouse
By doing things around the house
But why I can’t, I say with pain
And hope she understands as I explain
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Some fine artists snub their nose
At cartoonists whom they suppose
Fraudulently claim a legacy
In their esoteric world of artistry
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Giraffes are so giraffe-able
With legs and necks quite laughable
They peer down at us from way up high
With haughty heads above the sky
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I’m truly amazed
At the amount of clichés
Heard in conversation
Said with no reservation
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No get-up and go, no energy churnin’
No gas in his tank, his wheels aren’t turnin’
The world’s all around him, but in it he’s not
His long ago vigor has all gone to pot
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No rhyme has entered my mind
Lately I can’t seem to find
Words and ideas to artfully write
Poems with a clever lyrical bite
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