The trolls are always listening;
They whisper when I sleep.
They linger in the garden
And among the foliage creep.
Tag: poem
Flat Sales
The quarter’s looking solid,
The pipeline’s nice and fat;
We’re penetrating places where competitors have sat.
The only thing that bothers me,
And you’ll see where I’m at,
The ladies sales team’s front projections come in way too flat.
After the Colon
This meeting has gone on for hours; your presentation’s swollen.
It’s not the “but”s I mind, but what you state outside your colon.
Free Verse
I had a box of random words but dropped them on the tile,
And when I swept them up again I cast them in a pile.
I didn’t try to sort them out or even make a rhyme;
I labeled the whole pile “free verse” and gave it no more time.
The Limerick, a Guide to Its Rhythm
Anapests every line make a limerick.
As advice this may sound like a gimcrack,
But it’s nonetheless true
As the sky’s sometimes blue.
The grey area’s the beats in the front and back.
Blank Verse
To write in verse unrhymed, that’s blank;
It’s nothing more than monkey-spank.
While you can wrist a quick one out,
It’s hardly worthy of a shout.
Blank verse is good for metered drama–
Just save it up to show your momma.
The Trolls
They hide out in the parking lot in plateless brand-new cars
And listen to my merest whispers–have you got full bars?
They follow me in traffic like some lovesick brontosaur
And whisper unsweet nothings–that you talking, commissar?
Nothing Like a Solid Poem Thrills
It’s good to have a job; it pays the bills–
Yet nothing like a solid poem thrills.
Make it Rhyme
May As Well Just Rhyme
Sitting at a Starbucks,
Sipping on my joe.
Nothing much to say right now
And nowhere much to go.
I wish I had a hobby that would help me pass the time.
I don’t have much to do right now; I may as well just rhyme.
Rhyme In Time 