limericks

There once was a guy from the sticks
Who liked to write limericks
But he failed at the sport
'Cause he wrote them too short

A very sad poet was Jenny
Her limericks weren't worth a penny
In technique they were sound
Yet always she found
Whenever she tried to write any
She always wrote one line too many!

The following poem contains no vowels but "i".

I'm living nigh grim civic blight;
I find its victims, sick with fright.
In Mississippi, kids will nip
Illicit pills, think this is hip.
Insipid drips with dimwit minds
Mix trifling thrills with sickish kinds.

haikus

by moonwatcher:

the moon arises
the pale gray circle glowing
beyond the trees

by azrielle:

the rotting carcass
it lies in the fireplace
the smell burns my face

by moonwatcher's mother:

Moon over L Street
Workers rushing to subway
No time for beauty.

author unknown:

twice five syllables
then seven can't say much -- but
that's haiku for you

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