Week 553 (June 1-15). Poems topic: Final Seconds.

[M]

Week 553 (June 1-15). Poems topic: Final Seconds.

You have until June 15 to post a poem, and from June 16-22 we’ll vote for which one we thought was best!

Please post directly into the topic and not a link. Please don’t use a poem previously used in this group. Only one submission per person is allowed.

Your poem can be any length.

This week’s topic is: Final Seconds.

The rules are pretty loose. You could write a poem about anything that has to do with the subject/photo but it must relate to the topic somehow.

Most of all have fun!

Thank you to C. J. for suggesting the topic!

[Garrison]

POET: Garrison Kelly
TITLE: Ghost Story
GENRE: Horrorcore Song
RATING: R for violence and language



I ate a can of spam and my heart went kerplunk
I hit the wooden floor with a heavy ass thunk
Final seconds of my life I saw my greatest hits
From a baby in a diaper to a corpse taking shits

The Rainbow Bridge had burst into flames
The ghosts of my pets with their human names
Possessed my dead body, turned me into a puppet
Now we’re going to have fun, because, fuck it

Kitties and doggies were my necromantic fuel
Now it’s time to get vengeance on a world so cruel
Visit puppy mills and set the little duppies free
Chew the breeders’ brains for all eternity

Visit every dog fighting circuit in the underground
Come on, tough guy, fight with me for five rounds
You might get away with an uppercut or two
But I clamp my broken teeth and start to chew

An abuser’s flesh tastes like T-bone steak
Drink a flood of blood the size of a lake
Rince and repeat until the bones are picked clean
A birthday buffet for the zombified fiend

The Rainbow Bridge is supplied with fresh souls
Every abuser’s death turns the flames ice cold
Ashes of the dead replenish the plant life
From dour to flowers, phytomantic power

Colors glow brightly across the fields
The souls of furry friends can finally heal
After I enjoyed my never-ending meals
I can finally rest in peace as part of the deal

Ghosts leave my body, the maggots take over
Until there’s nothing left but formaldehyde odor
The circle of life continues after death
Every living thing is now eating like a king

[Brett]

A poem full of vengeance. Vintage Garrison. You make it perfectly clear of your displeasure with puppy mills and dog fighting circuits. Of course, it has been said that all dogs go to heaven.

[Brett]

Presume Not
By Brett A. Starr

Some say it came from basketball
Announcers used this phrase
Its meaning seemed apropos
Its use became a craze

One should not even presume
The outcome winner's name
Until the final seconds
Expire to end the game

A connection some have thought
Had come from Daniel Cook
A sports broadcaster in '78
He might have coined the hook

But others say that someone else
Before that hardwood game
Go back two years in Lubbock, Texas
Ralph Carpenter made the claim

I've heard that even Al Capone
Who liked attending shows
He scolded two of his bodyguards
Who left before time to go

But greater yet, one could bet
The attribute should rightfully
Associate with an opera
You all will come to see

A man named Richard Wagner
A composer from Germany
In 1874 he wrote
Of Norse mythology

Der Ring des Nibelungen
The Ring Cycle, it meant
A 15-hour opera
Of 26 years he spent

The last of four full operas
Gotterdammerung ends with a solo
A Valkyrie buxom lady
A horned helmet-wearing soprano

When watching sports or operas
Don't presume the end of things
As is said, "The opera ain't over
Until the fat lady sings."

[Garrison]

Thanks for the feedback, Brett! All dogs do indeed go to heaven. Their time on earth shouldn't be taken away with dog fights and abusive conditions.

As for your poem, I do love a good history lesson, which is one of the many areas in which you excel. Your research skills are topnotch. Also, the last stanza ties in perfectly with the final seconds of the opera analogy. Great job this week!