Tag: absurdism

NaPoWriMo Day 4

Darling,
Dear sweet darling,
I’ve been dreaming for decades
For the day I could say my
Deepest, darkest feelings for you.

But I’ve let this drag on for too long
With these feelings so strong
This could all go so wrong
But I’ve known all along
I love you.

Dearest and sweetest,
Spyro the Dragon
I open my heart and
I raise this flagon to you
Because you are my world;

This isn’t a lie,
I’m just really shy
But I feel the sparx fly
When you walk by,
Won’t you please be my guy?

You’re a gem,
You’re a catch,
In your claws,
You have snatched
And stolen my heart away.

When I’m lying in bed,
The only thought in my head
Is my cute quadruped
And the day that we’re wed;
I feel my cheeks burning red because

You’ve set my heart on fire,
You’re my every desire.
My love is for hire
But if you don’t require me,
I guess that’s okay.

You’re a hero,
A wanderer,
My brave purple warrior.
Before I start crying,
Please, just fly away.

© Emilie C. Black, Apr 2020

#PoeticAnswers 53 – Why Is The Sky Blue?

Some things are best explained by science
But today, it would be more fun if it wasn’t.
I’m not denying the truth by any means,
I understand the logistics of
Light particles and molecules
Traveling through the air
But I’ve already used up my
Metaphors regarding the visual light spectrum,
So today, let’s pretend nothing is real

It’s because in the beginning,
God used all the colours of the rainbow
To paint a world of many colours and cultures,
Radiant and vibrant, with so many hues and views,
Only to realise he forgot to use the blue paint.

Or maybe it’s because God
Tried to make the birds blue
With oil-based paint,
But they flew too close to the sky,
And it dripped and smeared
And that’s why the sky is blue

Planetary orbit is a lie,
And the Earth doesn’t go around the Sun,
Nor does the Sun go around the Earth.
But we yoyo in and out of
The inky black and blue of space
Which gets a bit brighter when it’s close to the Sun.

Because the sky is in a
Constant state of sadness,
But it’s not sentient enough to
Take the blue pills,
So it doesn’t know how to feel better.
It just feels clouded all the time.

Or are we all just colourblind,
And it’s not blue at all,
Just a colour that only the
Special and unique can actually see,
Secretly so much more,
Only visible during art and existential crises.

Question from Lynn P. from Facebook

#PoeticAnswers 12: How Can You Love Vegemite?

I saw the sheets, Dave,
You left your crumbs in our bed
That was our bed,
We made love like an over making bread,
It was hot and rising,
And maybe a little yeasty at times,
But how could you taint it with another essence?

Is this why you got the second bank account?
To fund your filthy problem?
I can’t look at you,
I can see it on your lips,
I can smell it on your hreath,
Like a battery left to leak in the sun,
A blend of acid and ass

I can compromise,
You can buy the crunchy peanut butter
Even though I prefer the smooth.
Even though the bits get stuck
To you dentures and I can’t kiss you,
I’d rather have a thousand nuts in my mouth
Than let you kill me in this way.

Why is Fido licking the knife?
You took the dog too?
He was an innocent child,
He wasn’t a pawn for you to play with,
My sense of smell is not a pawn for you to play with,
Did you even think about me?
No, it was always about you,

It’s always take, take, and take with you,
You never think about me, Dave.
You took away my Nutella
But that wasn’t enough
Did you have to take away my Biscoff?
I am the only sweet thing in your life you can spread
But I’ll be damned if I let you do that again.

Is this over, Dave?
We used to be like bread and butter,
Now you’ve gone and found another.
How can you do this to me?
How can you bring this cancer into our bed?
How can you love Vegemite?
It’s over, Dave.

Question inspired by Amanda F. Palmer

#PoeticAnswers 8 – Who Protects Your Kitchen By Shouting Abuse From The Counter Tops?

In Haiku form.

In his special way,
He guards the stove and toaster
Hail, Kitchen Goblin.

Arsenal of spoons,
Crown made of foil, forks and card,
Hail, Kitchen Goblin.

You enter his realm,
Cutlery and insults fly,
Hail, Kitchen Goblin.

“Gerrout my kitchen!”
He shouts, as marmite hits you.
Hail, Kitchen Goblin

You fight ’til first sauce,
Your shirt reddens with ragu,
Hail, Kitchen Goblin.

He squeaks out, “Fuck Off!”
You run, embarrased and bruised.
Hail, Kitchen Goblin.

From my mate, Dave.