A form of literature that uses aesthetic and often rhythmic qualities of language.
Losers defense but not tax free
Ruling elite — the IRC
Cornerstone under One-eyed key
Reliance to set people free
A business-related poem of four-lined stanza with eight syllables in monorhyme.
Copyright © 2007 by Fluffy von der Flynn. All rights reserved.
Prepare the way erroneously
Forty-four counts by their decree
Non-filers duped but not scotch free
Innocents gain fraudulently
A business-related poem of four-lined stanza with eight syllables in monorhyme.
Copyright © 2007 by Fluffy von der Flynn. All rights reserved.
One businessman advancement fee
By fat ass and salesman pee
Paradise lost to oversea
From your relatives, friends and me
A business-related poem of four-lined stanza with eight syllables in monorhyme.
Copyright © 2007 by Fluffy von der Flynn. All rights reserved.
You are not my friend!
You never were or will be —
My friend to the end…
How could you all cross my path
To feed my hatred and wrath?
You left me alone!
I had nowhere else to flee.
I am not a loan.
Am I at fault for loving
When push comes to your shoving?
You all taught me well.
Why don’t you understand me —
My heaven and hell?
By blogs and poems, I’ve penned.
Until we meet again, Friend.
A rationale tanka about being emotionally wronged by alleged ‘friends’.
Copyright © 2007 by Fluffy von der Flynn. All rights reserved.
Flock away of thirty four gray!
I don’t know how they seem to grow
And where and why, I could just cry.
They will appear when there is fear.
When one is gone another is spawn.
The silver crane picks on a plain
Of sandy shores as it explores
With it long beak — shiny and sleek.
It shoves its head into dark dread.
Its curly locks hide like a fox.
Move dark shadows! It’s time to plow.
We’re looking for our prey galore.
Our relief comes from picking crumbs:–
They’re large and small. We phase through walls.
Do not delay! Where’s our buffet?
A feathery poem about a ‘plucking’ euphemism for food of a gray kind. (Eh?)
Copyright © 2007 by Fluffy von der Flynn. All rights reserved.
I hate people.
People get in my way.
People are self-serving.
People are fearful about losing bio-units, friends, finance, food and f^ck!ng.
I hate my bio-units.
Maw is strong willed and annoying.
Paw is an idiot and non responsive.
Brat is nuts and a spender.
Twit is nit-wit and culturally challenged.
My ungrateful relatives disappeared years ago.
All these people need to go far away from me.
Their ghosts may roam elsewhere for all I care.
I need to get out of their lives and out the Bay Area.
I have no friends.
The ones I meet are fakers.
They smile when they want to get along with me.
Their fake smiles are itchy.
‘How are you?’ they claim they are fine.
They deny personal problems not worth sharing.
Friends are liars too.
They tell their sob or hard luck stories.
Friends like to hang out with other friends.
They like to party, drink and drive, go shopping or other shared nonsense.
They are misery incarnate when they fall down or are needy.
I am not entirely miserable but not lonely.
Friends are useful for data that takes too long to research by oneself.
I do not need friends, for now.
Friends come to me for money.
I have financial problems.
I hate people borrowing money from me.
These sorts of people are NO friends of mine.
I need security in the form of money.
Money makes me happy.
I know I am happy with money.
Money allows me to spend as long as people don’t know I have money.
Spending is good on food, clothing and shelter.
I have all three basic necessities but want more.
I want to travel, buy my own house and spend on myself for once.
I want to try fine dining.
I hate food.
Food makes me fat.
Oils, fats and meat stuff clog my arteries.
Food provides emotional comfort during times of stress.
I love any chocolate food items.
Anything not bland to the taste is healthy.
Salty food is makes bland food tastier too.
People are needed to harvest and slaughter edible foodstuff.
Sustaining life by ingesting other life forms does not make sense.
I hate f^ck!ng.
Fucking is no fun when people take advantage of each other.
The act itself is dirty and may cause sexually transmitted diseases.
The word is vulgar and expresses anger at someone, too.
People get hurt and lose lives during the heat of passion or from jealousy and rage.
Fucking leads to more people who fuck.
This means making bio-units.
And the cycle begins again with more people.
See what I mean?
Everything is perfect without people.
The reason more people are alive is because the laws prevent us from killing each other.
Euthanasia should be available prior to being dumped into a nursing home.
Being in a nursing home is next to being dead, by the way.
People are good as food for some.
People are good as fertilizer in the end.
People are part of nature too.
Hehehe!
Copyright © FVDF. All rights reserved.
A parody based on: 1) the lyrics of ‘The Candy Man’ by a film originally released on 1971, ‘Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory’; 2) my imagination regarding the results of chocolate after eaten and; 3) the embossed photo in gray color of two men shaking hands. (Original photo no longer exists in a government website).
Who are these two allies:
Holding hands like glue
Cousins of the golden plates
And a granny-mom or ‘Crew’?
The puppet clan? [Echo: The puppet clan?]
The puppet clan’s plan! [Echo: The puppet clan’s plan!]
The puppet clan’s plan:-
Laws he fixes without love
and takes us as their food.
Who are these two fellows:-
Worship the sun’s flair
We meet upon the Level
And we part upon the Square.
The puppet clan? [Echo: The puppet clan?]
The puppet clan’s plan! [Echo: The puppet clan’s plan!]
The puppet clan’s plan:-
Laws he fixes without love
and takes us as their food.
They shake whatever is at stake:-
Underlying and malicious
Speech of warring repetitious
You are always superstitious.
Who can take our sorrow: –
Whip us to a scream
Pro-create and borrow and
infect us with their scheme?
The puppet clan? [Echo: The puppet clan?]
The puppet clan’s plan! [Echo: The puppet clan’s plan!]
The puppet clan’s plan:-
Laws he fixes without love
and takes us as their food.
And sells us as their food
‘Oz’, the puppet clan drinks it would.
Copyright © 2007 by Fluffy von der Flynn. All rights reserved.
Rat-tat-tat-tat, recruited chat
Financial burst, disbursement debt
Tip of their hat, commuted fat
Business and farm, interest harm
Rat-tat-tat-tat, domino splat
Masonic Bush and Libby’s Tush
A political poem on the abomination about secrecy of six-lined stanza with internal and external rhymes. Harrrssshhh…
Copyright © 2007 by Fluffy von der Flynn. All rights reserved.
Open wide and please say, ‘Ah’!
Are you agents for our ‘Ra’?
Laugh out loud to joker, ‘Ha’!
Lost, safe, secret, open mold
Must we do as you are told?
Public ‘tear-roar’ getting old
End of day by midnight way
Pandora’s box gone astray
Simply chase the dead guard, grey
Three poems of three-lined stanzas with seven syllables in monorhyme.
Copyright © 2007 by Fluffy von der Flynn. All rights reserved.
Around and around it goes
Abound and abound it shows
Round without sound it knows
Round, spider clown it flows
Why do you crawl and comb
On angel sculpture home
of ‘Peace on Earth’ half dome
‘Good Will to Men’ you roam?
My windy blowing might
Upon your speedy flight
Begone and out of sight!
To an unknown tonight
Another annoying poem about a small arachnida crawling on top of my angel figurine.
Addendum: Added photo of my angel watching me as I work on Aug. 08, 2008 at 06:55PM.
Copyright © 2007 by Fluffy von der Flynn. All rights reserved.
Disco era music ticking
Dancing, walking happy flicking
Aerobic exercise tricking
Karate punching and kicking
Joints and parakeets sound clicking
Stinky fluffy oily sticking
Midnight shower salty licking
A healthy poetic alternative to pick away at high cholesterol.
Copyright © 2007 by Fluffy von der Flynn. All rights reserved.
Black fly lands on computer desk.
Sluggish and hardly moving.
Yet able to fly around my head once or twice.
Now wedged under anti-radiation screen of monitor.
Crawling slowing. Dictionary writing.
Looking at the word ‘Tag’ from the status bar below.
Resting now.
Goodnight.
Opps! Still looking at my screen.
Who are you? What are you doing?
Staring at word document entitled: 20070703-Black Fly from the status bar below.
A poem in free-verse about the booger moving underneath the screen.
Author’s note: Discovery of death 11:11:25PM per atomic clock. Rest in peace ‘J@ck B!ll*’ of Florida. I’ll miss you.
Copyright © FVDF. All rights reserved.