This is not a poem.
‘This is Sparta! '
This is not arta.
This is my home.
...
Under the sun nothing new.
Help me to say something true!
Stars unnumbered in blackness.
Abide in your tiny happiness.
...
‘Twas she known as Mata Hari who said,
‘The dance is a poem
of which each movement
is a word.'
...
It was a little dog's distant bark;
it was a tiny bird's innocent chirp;
it was a wind's gentle blowing;
that lifted my heavy burden of care,
...
A not-quite star is a Brown Dwarf.
A not-quite man is a Peter Pan.
My mind's been blanked.
...
The sun had zipped to its zenith,
when the zeppelin zoomed over
the ziggurat. The guide says, '
Please turn down the zither music.
...
The missile's flown with some dispatch.
We're gonna join the dinosaurs natch.
It's a mushroom terroryaki!
Leave Earth if you can, ducky!
...