Wednesday, October 31, 2007

On: The Grim Reaper

These poems were written by my readers on October 27, 2007, when I asked for verses about the Grim Reaper. Enjoy, and Happy Halloween.

The end result, the gist of the matter.
Scythe at last swung, the harvest to gather.
She asked, "What of my husband, what about him?"
"He'll come later," said the Reaper Grim.
- Charles

Eye, hand, leg all restored,
But all the waiting has got me bored.
My place in line, just to be judged.
Those numbers, those figures, I shouldn't have fudged.
The women, the fighting, the conquests, behind me.
Who'd have thought, this day would find me?
Independence, freedom, I my own keeper,
I guess I should've feared the Reaper.
- Charles

There once was a Reaper Grim,
Who sobbed to the bartender, Jim,
"I dress like a slob
For this stupid job,
And I never can get to the gym."


Darkness is falling
Birdsong ceases, frogs are still
Go, Grim Reaper, Go.
- ThatGreenyFlower

Crying, "She was so beautiful, her skin so fair.
And the way the light shined off of her hair."
"Your neck would be one piece, brains in your head,
you shouldn't have run off the edge you illicit peeper,"
He chided, this helper, this the Grim Reaper.
- Charles

"All our times have come."
Yeah, ok, Blue Oyster Cult.
Who's that dude in black?
- ThatGreenyFlower

You keep,
What you reap!
- Sling

"Did I really cause all that death?
Thousands and more just to hear my own breath?"
"Its too late to ask questions, now.
I'll come to take you, and slowly is how."
"But I don't want to suffer for the suffering I caused."
"But suffer you will for the suffering you caused."
"Take me now. Take me, Grim Reaper."
"I'll come for you later, George,
After you've paid the piper."
- Charles

The blood flows
As the blade goes deeper.
That's the way death goes
With the Grim Reaper.
- Roxan

Stumbling, bumbling, through life's little trance.
Eating and drinking, a few times a dance.
Birth and growing, 'til death do we part.
Then birthing and giving life a new start.
Slowing and illness and nothing ahead.
All the while breathing, until we are dead.
Thanks, Reaper.
- Charles

From the veiled night
He crept into sight
The Grim Reaper...

Reaching the dull murmur of her heart
From body to tear her soul apart

Turning to him, reaching out she embraced
This velvety darkness sans a face
"Take me away... I'm jilted by Life
In Death,for the first time, I've come alive."

- Mona

"It is your time," he said.
"Oh, not you," I said. "I'm not ready!"
"That is unfortunate, but quite beside the point," he said.
"Let's play a game. If I win, you leave me alone."
"I take it that the game will be Chess?" he said.
"Um. I can't play that. How about snakes and ladders." etc
- Winters

Taunts of Life
Like acid
Blister my soul...

I wandered this earth for ages
Like a moment ripped from Time

Landing on earth
I searched for streets
on the street a home
& in the home I now await
You...Grim Reaper

In your shadows I seek...
Touch me
Hold me
Rock me to sleep
So that I can, with myself
Make Peace...
- Mona

He's always there.
Keeping his distance at first.
But the older you get, the closer he gets.
You are always aware of his presence ... Always!
He's very frightening to some, but a welcome relief to others,
Everyone is destined to meet him ... There is no escape!
But as my usher into the afterlife,
I just wish he looked a little happier.
- G-man

Grim, he reaps
Souls, he keeps
Light, he sleeps
Dark, he creeps.
- Camille Alexa

I was just going to simply say
"Sorry you had such a bad day,"
But it would be less eloquent
Than any one previous comment.

Dwell not on anger or sorrow
For come sunrise is the morrow.
- Hale McKay

People rant and people rave,
Always thinking they're someone's fave,
When all they are is loud and brash,
One scant step above plain old trash.

When the Reaper comes to exact his price,
He'll come only once, not twice or thrice,
And you'd best not brag and your virtues extol,
Just give him whatever he swears is the toll.

The Reaper won't discriminate,
Begging and pleading won't stop your fate,
When your number is up, take heed and beware,
Because the Grim Reaper is naught but fair.
- Serena Joy

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

On: "Season of the Witch"

These poems were written on October 20, 2007, on the topic of "Season of the Witch." They are now offered for your Halloween pleasure.

The Season of the Witch,
The retribution of history, isn't it a bitch?
That the persecuted are celebrated, the persecutors in hell,
For their having drowned innocent girls,
In things like a well.
- Charles

Cambraic shirts, and Harvest moons.
Acorns,Pine cones,and Celtic Runes.
Pagan days filled with desire.
Earth and air,..comes wind and fire.
Hooded Druids gather then.
Oil lamps,in wooded Glen.
To gaze upon the Southern skye.
To eat and breathe, and live,and die...
- Sling

I have no hitch
To be a witch.
To be the clergy
Will give me allergy.
And I do not like Itch.

O the Life of a witch,
To go flying over any ditch,
Riding on a broom,
Vroom Vroom Vroom
I'd love to watch her as I eat my sandwich.
- Mona

A witch next door is such a trouble, dear;
Her friends in pointy hats wand'ring round here
On Halloween are such a raunchy group--
Last year they put my kitty in their soup!
I worry 'bout what they will do this year.
The moon is much too round, the sky too clear;
'Tis fear that makes me tremble 'neath this bed!
See the flick'ring shadows overhead?
That's their creepy sacrificial blaze.
One year, I woke up, mind in such a daze--
Where had I been? My memory was poor.
I don't remember seeing by my door
That bloody mess: the knife, the cloth, the hair.
No, I don't like this living by her lair.
- ThatGreenyFlower

Saturday, October 27, 2007

On: "Vista"

On October 13, 2007, I was in the throes of a small hissy fit over Windows Vista and requested limericks on the topic of Vista -- the dirtier, the better. Here's what my readers came up with.

I once met a system named Vista,
Whose mannerisms made me pissed-a,
If by chance I should meet
Vista developers here on the street,
Up their hineys I would shove-a
my fista.
- puerileuwaite

There once was a girl named Trista,
Post-coitus she remained in the nude,
Unlike the prude she called Sista.
I feel similarly screwed,
When I use the OS named Vista.
- Charles

Vista OS on my 'puter,
I swear nothing in life could be ruder.
It's always a pain,
And if it screws me again,
Well ... I'm just gonna take my hammer and smash the fuck out of it!
- Sling

There once was a guy named Bill
Who created an OS that will
Cause you to hate
Drivers not up to date
And trash it once you've had your fill!
- Snowelf

I know not a thing about Vista.
It seems, the old system, most missed her.
Many tried the new way,
Got fed up in a day, and
Banged keyboards so hard they got blisters.
- Camille Alexa

The G-Man knows nothing of Vista,
Cause he's an ignorant technological Mista,
But while playing a Bard,
It makes him grow hard,
For redheads and Starbuck Baristas.
- G-man

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

On: Black

On September 8, 2007, I requested haikus with a "black" theme. Here's what I got.

Lulling her to sleep
The lightening and thunder
Interrupted black

The new Pug proclaimed
Do not question my blackness
Man can't keep me down

Black pants shirt boots worn.
Music in his soul and life
Johnny Cash is known.

Big hat on his head
He croons his Christmas Carols,
Smooth country, Clint Black.

Vampire, Royalty,
Black hair, clothing. Loves longings.
They are today's Goth.

Black T-shirt and shorts,
Music doesn't come from me,
I don't belong here.

Stubborn man, black soul,
Misinform, mislead, not smart,
He is George Bush, too.

Bright white blinding me,
I shrink away from what is,
My light fades to black.

All Encompassing,
Black of night surrounds the world.
I awaken from sleep.

Haiku includes black,
I'm wondering why oh why
Post ends with a "Y".

Rainbow shades of light.
Each the absence of color.
Black and white prevail.

Black. Black. Black. Black. Black.
The stirring of the mind's eye.
Dreams are in mourning.
-Scary Monster

Ain't got Jack for black,
This brain to rack, words to hack,
Slack in the sack: black.
-Camille Alexa

Paper white, ink black
Blood red, heart broken
Words unspoken
Love gone
-(c) Annie Wicking

Nancy Sinatra
“These Boots Are Made for Walking”
Her black go go boots.
-Corn Dog

I have a Haiku in Hindi to share :
samne aaye mere dekhaa mujhe baat bhi ki
Muskuraye bhi puraane kisi rishte ke liye
Kal Ka akhbaar tha bas dekh liya rakh bhi diya...

[ He faced me, saw me and even talked to me/ He even smiled at me for the sake of the old times/ (I was) like last night's newspaper that he took a brief look at, and then kept away...]

Woh mere saath hi thaa door tak magar ek din
mudh kar jo dekha woh aur mere saath na tha
Jeb phat jaaye to kuch sikke bhi kho jaate hain

[ He was with me for long enough then one day/ when I turned back and looked he was no longer there/ when you have a permanant hole in your pocket you tend to lose some coins...]

Umr ke khel mein ek tarfaa hai yeh rassa kashi
Ek siraa mujh ko diyaa hotaa to kuch baat bhi thi
Mujh se tagdaa bhi hai aur samne aataa bhi nahin

[ The tug of war is one sided as far as the age is concerned/ had He(God)given me one end then it would have been a fair game indeed/ Although stronger than, me why does He hesitate to face me...]

High heels, crooked stair,
Renders her a study in
Shades of black and blue.
-Serena Joy

Friday, October 19, 2007

On: "Long-ku"

On July 1, 2007, I cajoled my readers into writing long-ku, a faux haiku in which the syllabic pattern is 8-10-8. The results were fabulous.

When life's travails overwhelm
And leave you screaming in the dark of night,
Have a martini for God's sake!

Careless whispers breed breathless sighs,
Fevered words, secret passions ignite. Hot!
Two aspirins, all better now.
-Serena Joy

Straining over Shakespeare's verses,
My head is spinning and my eyes are crossed
To answer Serena's challenges.
-Hale McKay

His head doth spin and eyes widen,
But Mike hath met the challenge. Forsooth! He
Met Serena's demands and lived!
-Serena Joy

2 PM; I'm in my PJs.
It's Sunday! Thom Yorke sings to me as I
Drink coffee, re-pot hydrangeas.

Bright yellow sun lights up the haze;
Plants shrivel up and try to hide from it.
Dog crawls under the deck and whines.

Trevor sleeps in the arms of love,
Mairi strokes his troubles with tender care,
And from darkness comes sweet release.

Look high to the heavens for stars,
And they will guide you to inspiration,
Otherwise you know where I am.

I am disappointed in you.
My thoughts of fun and laughter are broken.
Bastardized Bard is better than this.

Interpreted Shakespearian,
You make my soul's laughter come out so well,
You brightened my weekend and theirs.

And yet you did it anyway,
And did so very well in spite of your
Recalcitrance, Charles. Game well done!
-Serena Joy

Neurons fire making my thoughts real.
Caffeine makes my tongue and heart so happy.
Waking I think, sleeping I dream.

Long-ku is all right I thought once.
Prime-ku would be a challenge if thought through.
Prime syllables, letters totaling prime.

Alas at It Occurred To Me
I wrote about spell checkers instead of
For Verbicidal Tendencies.

But there is no need to feel sad
For I have one about words for V.T.
I hope everyone will read.
-Hale McKay

Between cultural flotsam and
The jetsam of Paris, Lindsay, Britney...
I see photos of Mars, and weep.

I fed the pink duck on her blog.
Then, I took the quiz "How Insane Are You?"
Now, I'm supposed to write Long-ku?
-Corn Dog

You know I have to trash any ku
I do not care to write this crap at all
Haiku should die a painful death.

Charming, pretty, always witty.
This girl keeps them begging like a lost dog!
Serena Joy ... Myth or Legend?

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

On: "Fergie"

On November 11, 2006, I first asked you all to write limericks. That day, we had only one taker:

There once was a man named Deeds,
So ugly he couldn't breeds,
So he put on a hat,
Grew nice and fat,
And spent his days grooming his steeds.
- RexZeitgiest

We tried it again on September 1, 2007, when I asked for a haiku or limerick based loosely on the topic of Fergie -- with much better results:

Stumped toe, bruised ego,
Anxieties, broken dreams --
Big girls indeed cry.
- Serena Joy

There was once a lady from Spain
Who puked while once on a train
Not once but again
And again and again
And again and again and again.

There was once a man from Australia
Who painted on his bum a dahlia
The design was fine
The color divine
But the smell was indeed a failure!
- Mona

There was an ass that thought it was a poet,
Made sure to let everyone know it,
It went to the loo,
Dropped a stinker or two
And said "Look, I made a haiku."
- Roxan

"Lovely lady lumps"?
Fergie, you are so damn weird.
Can't you just say "breasts"?
- ThatGreenyFlower

What I think, Greeny,
Is humps, lumps, or little bumps,
All get the job done.
- Serena Joy

Tattoos on a Pug
Alas do not show so well
Fergie passes by.
- puerileuwaite

Serena is tagged.
My blog shows the way it's done.
Continued here next.

There once was a sphere called blogging,
Where everyone's fears, wants and lives were logging.
I tried to comply, but my writing was wry,
So I blogged my reasons why.
- Charles

There once was a hooker named Sue,
Who filled her vagina with glue,
When they paid to get in,
She said with a grin,
You must pay to get out of it, too!!

There once was a fellow named Dave,
Who kept a dead whore in a cave,
I have to admit,
She smelled just like shit,
But think of the money he saved!
- G-man

If a Fergie wore tight sweaters
In the forest and nobody
No, wait ... it's a limerick.

There once was a Fergie u-tube
With a song and a boob and a boob
da da da da da dah
da da da da da dah
da da da da da dah dah some lube!
- /t.

The Monster attempted with grace.
The removal of Fergie's under lace.
The squirming ensued,
The Monster subdued,
Without access to her netherplace.
- Scary Monster

Serena started
Something showing a vid of
Fergie in skivvies.
- Serena Joy

Monday, October 15, 2007

On: Faux-ku

On June 10, 2007, we wrote short-ku (also known as faux-ku) -- for which the syllablic pattern of haiku changed to 4-2-4. And let me tell you, those who played along acquitted themselves beautifully!

In my inner
Self lies

-Serena Joy

You goddamn deck,
just a
teetering pile.

Humid summer:
folks wilt,
flowers flourish.

Pressure washer,
I love
and hate you, too.

Thirty eight is
almost forty.

Beautiful boys
run big,
leap high, yell loud.


This new form should
Be Called


I hold your hand,
You smile.
My eyes smile back.


Serena Joy
Knocks My Socks Off!!


I hate Haiku
I do
Haiku sucks - eww.


How can they suck
so much?
Damn Orioles.


Silent whispers
touch me

-Top Cat

I like Faux-Ku.
Good name
For short haikus.

Because faux-kus
Don't try
To rhyme purple.

And not silver,
Or rhyme at all.

-Hale McKay

Saturday, October 13, 2007

On: "Bad" Haiku

Here's our first poetry reading, from June 5, 2007. The way this happens is, I ask my readers at Parenthetically Speaking to write a poem (haiku, in this particular instance) on (loosely) a particular topic -- and they come through. In spades. I love every word of it. I hope you do, too.

On this date, I asked for hideous haiku. What I got were jewels.

My mind is a blank
Canvas today, soaking up
Red ink of ennui.
-Serena Joy

Listen to Monster.
Thoughts echo from he soul, ya.
Tears give birth to laughs.
-Scary Monster

You be Joy, and friend.
Your sound and fury me hears.
We settle for words.
-Scary Monster

Perhaps one of us
Is disturbed. Perhaps it's me.
Perhaps it is not.
-Serena Joy

Gray sky
cold wind
-Top Cat

Your weather seems nice
Nothing to complain about?
That is why I came.

Work should be boring
Otherwise why would we leave
And why would they pay?

My Inner Child
I think he is retarded
And that's fine with me.

Brave asks the big Chief
How did I receive my name?
Why you ask, Dogs F*cking?

Inner child's happy
She must be younger than twelve;
That's when trouble starts.

My inner child grins,
Clicks the radio buttons.
She likes these quizzes.

Surprised inner child?
What kind of answer is THAT?
Stupid f**king quiz.

Inner child is spoiled
Good friends, good conversation
Keep her entertained.

I saw Inner Child
Run past me at the market
With candy and beer.
-Corn Dog

Talented Witty Thoughts
Lie beneath Crimson Tresses,
The Head of Serena Joy!

What wonderful neighbours
What wonder, I care.
The neighbours from hell
be so, so aware.

Should the tables be turned
A killer, I would become
and drive you back to hell
from where you have come.
-Annie Wicking and Loman Austen

Give an assignment
To talented bloggers and
They come through in spades.
-Serena Joy

Lets see about this,
I do not know what to say,
Have a pleasant day.

Charles, you said it well.
A pleasant day to you as
Well, my gentle friend.
-Serena Joy

Saving for Posterity

Miss Begotten's readers often write delightful poetry -- rhymes, couplets, haikus, limericks, etc. It would be a shame for them to languish forgotten in the archives, so I've created this blog for the sole purpose of memorializing all that great poetry. It's just getting started, and there's a lot of poetry to track down, so bear with me. I think this will be great fun once it's set up and put together.