Ironic Poems

it's funny how hello is always accompanied with goodbye
it's funny how good memories can start to make you cry
it's funny how forever never seems to last
it's funny how much you'd lose if you forgot about your past
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Fame is a fickle food
Upon a shifting plate
Whose table once a
Guest but not
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Its funny how hello is always accompanied with good-bye
Its funny how remembering good memories can make you cry
Its funny how forever never seems to really last
Its funny how much you'd lose if you forgot your past
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Long long ago I went through the castle of leaves
Yellowing slowly in the moss
And far away barnacles clung desperately to rocks in the sea
Your memory better still your tender presence was there too
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Speak to me, aching heart: what
Ridiculous errand are you inventing for yourself
Weeping in the dark garage
With your sack of garbage: it is not your job
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I

Just as my fingers on these keys
Make music, so the self-same sounds
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Our nature is an unmatched art gallery
Items are in the best form held in vast territory
Arranged level by level, stage by stage in whole periphery,
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Black ants have made a musty mound
My purple pine tree under,
And I am often to be found,
Regarding it with wonder.
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Impetuously I sprang from bed,
Long before lunch was up,
That I might drain the dizzy dew
From the day's first golden cup.
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The Man that hath great griefs I pity not;
’Tis something to be great
In any wise, and hint the larger state,
Though but in shadow of a shade, God wot!
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The five old bells
Are hurrying and eagerly calling,
Imploring, protesting
They know, but clamorously falling
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--Was it for this
That one, the fairest of all Rivers, lov'd
To blend his murmurs with my Nurse's song,
And from his alder shades and rocky falls,
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OH there is blessing in this gentle breeze,
A visitant that while it fans my cheek
Doth seem half-conscious of the joy it brings
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'TU...QUI...TU!

(for the onlie begetter of this ensuing verse - Mr. M.T.)
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Midway his upward unavailing course
Sate Sisyphus, his back against his load,
Halting a moment from that task of doom.
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Its funny how hello is alway accompanied with goodbye,
Its funny how good memories can start to make you cry.
Its funny how forever never really seems to last,
Its funny how much you'd lose if you forgot about your past.
...

À Victor Hugo
Ant-like city, city full of dreams,
where the passer-by, at dawn, meets the spectre!
Mysteries everywhere are the sap that streams
...

Your head, your gesture, your air,
are lovely, like a lovely landscape:
laughter’s alive, in your face,
a fresh breeze in a clear atmosphere.
...

I
Une Idée, une Forme, un Etre
Parti de l'azur et tombé
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New born
and strawberry blond!
Your tiny head
thatched like your father's
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O' ironic world of sin
Close to heaven it has been
So close to Heaven
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Life

Reality is ironic
And in this ironic reality we have to observe time and life and transact relationships in so many ways and if space allows measure all though with barriers.
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During his time as House Republican leader, Cross joined with then Senate Republican leader Frank Watson to referee the 'rancorous' relationship between House and Senate Democrats and Democratic Governor Rod Blagojevich.[2]

In February 2009, Cross and fellow Republican, ranking impeachment committee member Jim Durkin, spoke out about a follow-on controversy over the impeachment testimony of then-U.S. Senator Roland Burris. Burris had been named by Blagojevich to fill President Barack Obama's Senate seat, after the emergence of the corruption charges against Blagojevich but before Blagojevich's removal from office.
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we do make rules
we aspire things as such

and wonder we don't fit in rules
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How ironic can irony be?

Today's conflicts.
And tensions to mention them.
...

I go from door to door like a dog or a cat because otherwise I have nothing to eat,
sometimes they give me something because they've heard I write poems.

A joke the way one tries to be more generous than the other,
each time a door opens, I look as if I am longing for something, I can see that from their faces.

It's true, I write as if I'm translating from another language
and doing my best to stick as closely as possible to the parts I have understood.

I wished that someone would come to explain to me what a poem is to someone who is not human,
then I might be better able to explain what a poem is.

Someone asks you if you're not going to cut off someone's head today.
Today? Whose head would that be?

While I explain to you where I am, as if I am explaining a joke before I tell it,
you come up behind me - please don't scare me like that.

I can't joke about everything, not that my jokes are always successful,
and then say something as if I mean it and it will be ruined if someone doubts it for even a moment.

Don't tell Ghalib that he is ironic, because he doesn't want to be,
except when he can hardly breathe - yes, then he wants to be ironic.

Again Ghalib says something that is just a little too wise, instead of one prime number after another,
so that those who hear are almost certain that thought has gone into what is being said, can't he do better?
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In some situations...
Less to do,
Achieves greater results.
While in other situations...
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Every dead man is a good man.

Every dead man is a good man
How ironic i find this statement.
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