Tag: rhyme

The fires of the dead

The sea has for several days
been growing angrier; and now
the muttering of its surf sounds

far into the land. It always
roughens thus during
the Festival of the Dead.

And on the sixteenth day,
after the shōryōbune have been launched, 
all the fishermen remain at home. 

For on that day the sea
is the highway of the dead.
Upon that day is it called Hotoke-umi—

the Buddha-Flood—the Tide
of the Returning Ghosts. 
And ever upon the night

of that sixteenth day—
all its surface shimmers with faint lights
gliding out to the open, 

and there is heard a murmuring of voices, 
like the murmur of a city far-off—
the indistinguishable speech of souls.

Then will the dead rise tall, 
and reach long hands and murmur: 
Tago, tago o-kure!—tago o-kure!

(From the journal of Lafcadio Hearn, 1891)

Villainelle

Opt for the treadmill, you’ll be running in the nude,
My cat slept through a blizzard in Florida this year.
One person says something that sounds true.

Install a fake microwave on the wall you never use;
Surprise! If a funny looking cat appears,
Opt for the treadmill, you’ll be running in the nude.

Sleep in the middle of the room;
Just wait until the third of April when your friends hear.
One person says something that sounds true.

Have a tortoise deliver your package for you,
Flowing through the water in a reindeer.
Opt for the treadmill, you’ll be running in the nude.

Prank: put your name on a balloon.
Putting your car keys in the freezer;
One person says something that sounds true.

Don’t be surprised if it sings Happy Birthday back at you.
In my house, there are porcelain ponies, I swear.
Opt for the treadmill, you’ll be running in the nude;
One person says something that sounds true.

(From AI generated April Fools pranks)

A plume of feathers, never used

A plume of feathers, never used 
but by Œdipus and the Earl of Essex.
A serpent to sting Cleopatra.

Aurengezebe’s scymitar, 
made by Will. Brown in Piccadilly. 
The whiskers of a Turkish Bassa. 

A wild boar. Roxana’s night-gown.
The imperial robes of Xerxes, never worn but once.
Another of a bigger sort.

Materials for dancing; as masks, 
castanets, and a ladder of ten rounds.
Three bottles and a half of lightning.

A dozen and a half of clouds, 
trimmed with black. A basket-hilted sword.
Three oak-cudgels, with one of crab-tree.

A bale of Spanish wool. A sea.
A coach very finely gilt, with a pair 
of dragons, to be sold cheap.

Othello’s handkerchief.
One shower of snow in the whitest French paper.
A mustard-bowl to make thunder.

A suit of clothes for a ghost, 
viz. a bloody shirt, a doublet curiously pinked.
A coat with three great eyelet-holes.

A set of clouds after the French mode, 
streaked with lightning, and furbelowed.

(From Drury Lane theatre’s fire sale, 1709)

Welcome to the UK

Why is there a guy selling perfumes
in the toilets of a club? The fact
most houses don’t have bars on the windows.
Spring and how utterly lovely it is.
Strangers ending messages with a kiss.

Everything is tighter, narrower, closer.
You coming with us for the bonfire,
they’re burning the Pope. I wasn’t expecting
the litter to lay on the ground for weeks.
Where are the people cleaning the streets?

Houses have string light switches. Two taps.
Gravestones older than my whole country.
You can buy drinks and snacks in a pharmacy.
Quiz nights, Marmite, no bargaining in shops.
Two snowflakes fall and everything stops.

Most people in London aren’t from London.
People who play dominoes in pub bars.
A small group of cheerful protestors
led to a police car, no need for drama.
People shopping in their pyjamas.

All the food is wet. Sandwiches oozing
with mayonnaise, chips drowning in gravy.
Everything is too sweet. Limes are so cheap.
Long fake eyelashes, orange tanning.
How green everything stays. Did I mention spring?

No burglar bars and security gates,
no pallisade fencing. The resigning
of everyone who has a setback.
How much Brits hate Britain, talk it down.
Women pushing prams on the streets on their own.

(From UK immigrants, what surprised you when you moved here?)

Left behind

A Jimmy Choo
Cinderella shoe.
A Pomsky
dog called Beyoncé.
An ice-cream cart,
a birth chart
and tarot reading.
A pair of six-foot angel wings.

A Roland drum kit,
an Angora rabbit
called Thumper, an Islamic
marriage certificate.
The bride’s pet lovebirds, Will and Kate,
which she was supposed to take
to the ceremony.
A GT V8 Bentley
convertible.
A huge inflatable
unicorn pool float,
a banana boat.
A telescope.

A DJI Phantom drone
and a coin collection started nine decades ago.

(From dogs to drones)

Flowerspeak

Poppy, scarlet, fantastic extravagance,
Damask rose, brilliant complexion;
Camellia, red, unpretending excellence,
Japan rose, beauty is your only attraction.
Mistletoe, I surmount difficulties,
Rose, daily, thy smile I aspire to;
Citron, ill-natured beauty,
Mulberry tree, I shall not survive you.
Sorrel, wild, wit ill-timed,
Butterfly weed, let me go;
Hundred-leaved rose, dignity of mind,
Cistus, gum, I shall die tomorrow.
American starwort, cheerfulness in old age,
Locust tree, green, affection beyond the grave.

(Flower meanings from Collier’s Cyclopedia, 1882)

Can you die of a broken heart?

Researchers have looked at what goes on in the brain,
and for lovers and addicts it’s exactly the same.

Those who are newly in love
experience joy in their minds from a dopamine flood.

And it’s this same pattern that goes on in the brain
as that which occurs when you’re hooked on cocaine.

So in the first throes of passion you’re literally addicted to love,
and that’s probably why those feelings all hurt so much.

(From Can you die of a broken heart? Submitted by Ben Mellor)