Bad Poetry Revued

What's in a name? Apparently a lot.

2012-01-24T20:26:00.001-05:00

Hi everyone,

Effective today, January 24th, this blog has been moved to a new address http://thepoetsrevue.blogspot.com. The initial title was meant to be a personal joke but since those are so hard to communicate at times I've decided to use a more broadly appealing title instead in response to feedback I've received. As earlier noted my goal is to create a forum for amateur and published poets alike to share their passion so I hope this title will inspire people to start submitting their writings. If you like what you have read thus far please tell others to visit as well and subscribe to this site. Your feedback is invaluable so I appreciate your honest opinions.

Thanks.

Little Sally's Doctor Visit ©

2012-01-23T21:49:00.001-05:00

By Cici

Dear little needle, how tiny you are
I'm not sure your medicine will get very far.
I cower at your presence, I truly must confess
that little smart I fear one can only guess

Please little needle, make it quick this time.
or else I promise I'll not pay this doctor a dime.
Make sure the remedy brings some swift relief
or I'll for certain think this doc's a thief.

I'll try not to cry when you enter my arm
for they just might escort me to the Funny Farm.
They don't realize that we must first reason
for if we don't, I'll not be well anytime this season.

Shh, Don't Speak ©

2012-01-19T21:34:00.002-05:00

By ciCi

Lover, lay me down gently
upon thy bed of conquest.
Speak my name softly
but clearly,
so I know it's of me you're thinking.

Yes, splay your hands across my back
And envelope me,
So I forget our soon parting.
Explore my every contour
as a connoisseur to a fine wine.
Firey kisses dancing o'er me
in cascading waterfalls
that linger in secret places.

Trace the fullness of my mouth
and let me be tortured in spades.
Define the outlines of my throat
and discover the peaks and valleys
of my world are but the beginning.

Better Late Than Never...

2012-01-16T14:52:00.001-05:00

By CiCi

Hello everyone. It just dawned on me that thus far I have remained passive by only posting poems and have yet to try and connect personally with you. I would like to first say thank you for visiting and subscribing to my blog. Ever since I was a teenager, eons ago, I have been writing poetry and short stories. However, I was so afraid of my thoughts being rejected and ridiculed that I wrote in secret and buried the scraps of paper with no intent for them ever to be seen. It took a long while but I finally got it through my head that negative reviews are ok.

It is amazing how afraid we are of failure that it sometimes paralyze us to the point of never even trying. Yet we look around and see that so many people have failed, sometimes multiple times (Donald Trump comes to mind) or are not universally liked (quite a few) yet they do not allow that to stop them. My goal is not only to have a way to display my writing but more so to create an interactive forum to give voice to other writers both amateur and published alike. Here you can display your work and allow friends, family and total strangers to give their feedback. Have fun sharing your passion with others instead of hiding your work. I must emphasize though that we only want original pieces to avoid any copyright infringements.

Send all submissions to B.P.Revued@gmail.com. You may also send general feedback to the same address.

Feel free to leave your honest opinions.

The Crush ©

2012-01-10T23:51:00.001-05:00

By CiCi

(Recalling a young couple I once saw together on a foggy morning.)

We are two wisps of gossamer smoke
waltzing unaware through a blinded world.
We think we know it all right now.
Speaking boldly in casual tones
re-echoed by shapeless forms.
We are two wisps of gossamer smoke.

A thoughtless existence of just being
Feeling, dreaming, time on time, in time
We see but vaguely as through a screen
yet our vision feels unobscured.
We are but two wisps of gossamer smoke.

We are but in a thought, what we are.
Not alike, not different,
and not at all quite real.
We are unsure, we are mere children,
ignorant as to what we should do.
Awkward kisses and breathless whispers
thankfully unseen, thankfully unheard.
Glad to be two wisps of gossamer smoke.

The Cube ©

2012-01-07T16:59:00.000-05:00

By CiCi

(A note from the citizens of Cube World)

I've been sitting here all morning
trying to get my day started.
But my concentration was shattered
when my neighbor farted.
She quickly moved her chair
and shuffled some papers too.
But none of that could cover
the sudden stench of poo.

Of course I had to take a walk
to breathe some fresher air.
But there went an hour or two,
A little chitchat here and there.
By now I am a bit hungry
and must find myself a snack.
I leave for the kitchen,
and met Suzie on my way back.
We laughed about old Sally
who wears her skirts too short
and tsk tsked at nosey Dennis
who's the boss's cohort.

These people we work with!
They never get anything done.
I wonder what's their problem,
and I'm not the only one.

By now it is almost four
and I'm ready for a break.
The day has just flown by me
it's such a busy week.
My deadline's fast approaching
and my project's still not done.
I simply can't imagine
where the time has gone.

We Were Friends ©

2012-01-02T03:14:00.000-05:00

By Cici

We were friends way back when
the grass was never too tall
and the forest never too thick
and dreams came alive with the dawn.

I drank at the fountains of your laughter
and was nourished through your embrace.
Hand in hand along we went
building castles from the sands.

Many hours we whiled away
writing dreams among the stars
and volleying fantastical notions
about like a cat and its yarn.

We would be conquerors,
queens of our domain,
Riding in the highest places
in ours, an idyllic realm.

Ah, but now we sit side by side
Upon a time warped portico
Sipping our fine fare, far removed
from where we once were.

Laughter, be it our lone legacy
even as the memories fade.
Hand in hand we shall remain,
friends from another place and time.

The Old County Fair ©

2011-12-29T02:12:00.000-05:00

By Morgan Lorenzo

(Memories of childhood)

"Riddle me this

And riddle me that"

So says the man in the black hat

Waving his wand all around

If you notice,

He's not touching the ground

"What hath three eyes

But only one that opens?"

"Lad over there, pose you a guess

To win two pence?"

As if summoned, the crowd had gathered

Rapt in awe and wonder

As though naught else mattered.

His smile spanned from ear to ear

and eyes a crimson blaze.

A flourish, a bow and a wink

He was set and ready to amaze.

From his hat a rabbit appeared

And skittered across the stage

Oohs and ahhs in a percolating wave

Uttered the young to advanced in age

A dove from thin air

And a damsel sawed in twain

No one would dare challenge

This magician's reign.

As the show progressed

The spell grew stronger

And the biting Autumn cold

Was felt no longer

Warm apple cider

Wafted on the night air.

Sticky- fingered children

Were glad to be there

Cuz there was no place

Like the old county fair.

Slinking through the masses

Like ghosts on cats feet.

A bump, a nudge or even,

From under their seats.

Came the collectors

Of all that was rare and fine.

A fair was never complete

Without some of their kind.

With faces wide opened

and wallets unguarded

A fool and his money

Are so easily parted.

But let's not now grumble

And cause a big row.

Said he the magician,

Relax and enjoy the show.

Monsoon Season ©

2011-12-26T15:09:00.001-05:00

By CiCi

Tears and rain
Intermingled, they become one
As I and you once were.
I blinked to clear my eyes
And hours later I'm still here
Watching and wond'ring
about this wall

Today as you frolicked in the park
On the grassy knoll,
On the yellow blanket I had bought,
Sipping Cabernet with a twist,
Of Manchego and Brioche,
Exchanging sultry glances and
Fluttery kisses as your
Skillful fingers chased
Sun-kissed tendrils from her nape...
I looked on and remembered.

But this wall
It has become so high and thick
From, I know not whence.
I've called out to you
But you hear me not
I have become this shade in which I stand
A pebble off your sidewalk
A thistle by the way...
Trying to forget how to remember

Lipstick Smears ©

2011-12-20T15:14:00.000-05:00

by CiCi

Me?
I'm alright.
Don't need a thing
Ain't worried one bit.

Me?
I'm alright.
These eyes?
They're just tired.
These lips?
They don't quiver,
just cold in here I guess.

Me?
I'm alright.
I'm always alright...

Ode To The Scarlet Letter ©

2011-12-18T22:17:00.002-05:00

By Cici

(For those who remember reading the book The Scarlet Letter at some point in their life, here's an ode in remembrance thereof.)

By the end of every rainbow

Though a rainbow hath no end

Flows a melancholy river

Ever twisting but never bent

Only listing sweet sad sorrows

Yea, a woeful heart'd weep

As it creeps on through the valley

To the oceans unknown deep

Lo it echoes of a lonely past

many tears its surface saw

And its troubles just keep mounting

Unchecked by judge or law

Bank to bank it spins a yarn

Some old raconteur should tell

But none laments in tones ere truer

Ringing strong a resounding knell

Yea, this melancholy river

From a melancholy stream

Flows through time and space all weeping

In a melancholy dream

Bobby's Christmas Wish ©

2011-12-16T10:47:00.000-05:00

by Cici

Mom's been dodging all my questions
acting strangely suspicious.
Dad's been reading the paper
but it's somehow upside down.
I am not sure what's happening
But I am quite curious.
Could it have something to do
with Christmas coming 'round?

I asked for a brand new bike.
I asked for a brother.
I told them that I would be happy
to trade in my sister.
They laughed as though it was funny
and said write to Santa.
Either one would be fine
but preferably the latter.

It's five more days 'til Christmas.
The ground is covered in snow.
The fireplace is crackling and the
tree is all aglow.
I don't know if Santa's too busy
or if he will come through.
So I am hedging my bets
and telling my Auntie too

Bright and early Christmas morning
I raced my sister down the stairs.
So I guess it will be the bike
there will be other years.
We bolted into the room
stopping short before the tree
But there was something missing
as far as I could see.
Mom and Dad were there sitting
holding hands and smiling wide.

"I hope you are excited.
You'll have a brother by July."

Puppy Love ©

2011-12-13T21:48:00.002-05:00

By Cici

A fool

I may be

to hold such love for him

A fool

to make him

the height, breadth and depth of my world

A fool

lost within the brilliant amber pools of his eyes

wanting only to be lost

and never again found

A fool

I may be

But a fool I’d rather be

than to never love

or be loved by him

Holiday Blues ©

2011-12-10T17:17:00.001-05:00

by Morgan Lorenzo

Don't much like these rainy days
Don't much feel like smiling

Kind of misty 'round my way
Aint much sunshine since you left

Find myself trying to dry these eyes
But the tears just wont go away

Blurb: I am an amateur poet who just loves to write and hope that others will enjoy it too.

A Backward Glance ©

2011-12-08T21:43:00.001-05:00

Poem by Morgan Lorenzo

I was at our favorite restaurant last night
I sat by the window just as before
The water outside was flecked with golden droplets
As it undulated in the light from our hotel room across the bay
I was in my spot; another was in yours

The Takers ©

2011-12-06T11:10:00.001-05:00

Poem by Cici

What's next after you have given your all -
You have sacrificed your last morsel
and have turned the other cheek again and again?
What's next when you run out of cheeks to turn
and the takers are still not satisfied?

What do you do when the demons inside you
are growing stronger and louder
A cacophony of wailing, black rage welling deep within
and you ache to let it free?

What's next when the takers still scream for more
and poison begins to flow through your veins
and they cry more, more, more
give us more!
Do you explode?...

My Baby Girl ©

2011-12-01T23:12:00.001-05:00

Poem by Cici
I breathe,
I falter - at your behest
One glance,
and I,
I forget all else

In your eyes I find peace.
Ensconced therein,
I wish never to leave.
Centered,
anchored by your smiles
I hang on your every utterance
and in awe I sigh.

Carpe Diem ©

2011-11-25T22:08:00.001-05:00

Poem by Cici

There once was a time,

when the color of one’s skin

dictated his station

And the street you’d live on was a

foregone decision

There once was a time,

when taking a drink

was a punishable crime

And Flappers were hip,

jazzing it up

in speakeasy lounges.

To think,

you might have been born

a product of then.

There once was a time,

when alabaster

was the pallor to envy

and a mere glimpse of

the wrist of a lady

put men in a frenzy.

To think,

you might have been born

a product of then.

What an anachronism

would my very being be?

Perhaps embraced, but sooner

sent to the gallows –

for speaking my mind,

out of turn and oft-times,

for simply being the fairer sex

or different hued.

There once was a time,

a book for a lady

would a sin be viewed.

Think of this day,

of this our time,

when a voice you can have

if you so choose.

So open your mouth

and let the words pour out.

For a cause, take your stand

and make your voice heard.

This is your day,

live in your time.

2011-11-25T21:02:00.001-05:00

Poem by Cici

I write to live

I live to write

My life and my words

are thus entwined.

Speak not to me of

scented verses,

‘lest you have lived

those perfumed rhymes.

For my very prose,

is lyric’ly sweet,

brought fourth on notes

mellifluous.

Cast not your eyes

askance

as though I merit not

your notice.

But a season hence

wait,

just wait and see.

My words will find you

and ensnare your ears.

As with any bard who’s

worth his quill,

I’ll weave my odes

‘til my fingers bleed.

So one day,

I know not when,

you’ll wake with them

upon your tongue.

Scorched in your head –

And you will know

the utter power of my words.

A moment of Clarity

2011-11-18T22:25:00.001-05:00

Photo by Cici

Defenseless ©

2011-11-18T20:51:00.001-05:00

Poem by CiCi

Defenseless,
when I gave my heart
I gave my bombs,
my guns,
my moats,
my fences

I am now but a rose upon a playing field in the final seconds

By your whims
I bloom
By your whims
I wilt

But a flower hath but one season
And I -
I have but one heart

Fate ©

2011-11-17T15:12:00.001-05:00

Poem by Morpri

Reflections ©

2011-11-11T15:00:00.001-05:00

Poem by CiCi

2011-11-10T19:53:00.001-05:00

Poem by CiCi

Brother,

'Photo credited to coconutheads.com'

Kin from loins familiar

Beneath the heavens

Upon this ground

Stand I witness to your plight

Naught a wit are we dissimilar

Taking gulps from this rancid air

Knowing well, this could be the night

Last among, least no less

The time at last we find our rest

I’ve rolled this rock back

Up this hill

A thousand times it’s crushed me still

Press on ©

2011-11-10T17:56:00.001-05:00

Poem by CiCi It’s your journey as it is mine

This road along which we trod

Divergent pathways and byways

Crisscrosses and forks up ahead

As are the pits, the cruxes, the walls

Many will be the valleys and yet

Among the spikes, sprinkled between?

Are there not good days

In the darkness of the night?

Are there not stars up in the heavens?

Press on, beyond this ravine

Beyond this pale shroud

Press on, just beyond…press on

Bad Poetry Revued

What's in a name? Apparently a lot.

Little Sally's Doctor Visit ©

Shh, Don't Speak ©

Better Late Than Never...

The Crush ©

The Cube ©

We Were Friends ©

The Old County Fair ©

Monsoon Season ©

Lipstick Smears ©

Ode To The Scarlet Letter ©

Bobby's Christmas Wish ©

Puppy Love ©

Holiday Blues ©

A Backward Glance ©

The Takers ©

My Baby Girl ©

Carpe Diem ©

Passion Defined ©

A moment of Clarity

Defenseless ©

Fate ©

Reflections ©

Sisyphus - my Friend, my Foe ©

Press on ©