By Ashley Lister
One of my favourite poetic standbys is the
list poem. Because, in real life, I’m a serial list-writer, I find it easy to
slip into the mindset of writing lists. Maybe it’s something to do with having the name ‘Lister’?
This is from a poem I wrote a few years
back entitled ‘A List of Things I Think About During WOFT Meetings’. It will be
noted that the word WOFT is an acronym for Waste Of F*****g Time.
Have
I muted my mobile?
Is
my mouth fixed in a smile?
Can
I slyly check my watch?
Dare
I scratch my itchy crotch?
Can
I count the ceiling tiles?
Will
all this sitting give me piles?
I’ve written mine rhyming couplets,
although that’s just personal preference. These can work in blank verse or with
a rhyming structure behind them. What sort of lists would be appropriate for an
erotic poem? How about a list of things I think about whilst blindfolded? What
about a list of things I think about when you’re away? Or list of things I should have said? This is
how ‘A List of Things I Think About During WOFT Meetings’ continues:
The chair’s
a witless pseud pretender
Who
brings a typo-plagued agenda
He’s
followed by his office flunkies
A
troop of trite arse-kissing monkeys
Collective
covens then collude
Whilst
fat ones focus on free food
And
everyone gets their free drink
They’re
here to eat and chat – not think
And
I stare at my blank notepad
And
tell myself it’s not that bad
Whilst
letting my self-esteem diminish
And
wond’ring: “When will this crap finish?”
Should
I know that woman’s name?
Dare
I check my watch again?
How
long ago did this shit start?
How
long can I hold in this fart?
As always, I look forward to seeing your
poems in the comments box below.
And I wonder how long you can keep up these couplets!
I think that poem goes on for a couple of pages 😉
10 June 2016
Best Laid Plans
By Lisabet Sarai
A book of nudes,
a tube of lube,
and Thou,
beside me writhing
on the waterbed;
coiled rope to bind
your hands above
your head;
tooled leather cuffs
to hold your thighs agape;
a springy crop
to paint your ivory flesh
a vivid red; a
roll of bondage tape
for quick improvisation.
Every top
will need a blindfold
and well-whetted knife
to slice through bonds
and save his darling's life
or draw her blood;
perhaps I'll add
a brand
to set my mark
upon your ass
in fire:
a sadist's dream,
the acme of desire.
By searing wax
your palest flesh
is kissed;
a ginger butt plug's
burning bulk intrudes…
So many implements!
I need a list
to plot out
our erotic interludes.
This one works really well. There are so many cheeky rhymes in the text, all of which is balanced against a generous list that leaves little to the imagination. Lovely work x
"Cheeky"! That is the perfect description for this poem. In more ways than one! Thanks, Ash!
ALSO…. I realize that one of my favorite poems from my youth is also a List Poem. I remember learning this for "recitation" in my junior high English class. (I suspect they don't do this in schools any more. What a pity!)
Smells
By Christopher Morley
WHY is it that the poet tells
So little of the sense of smell?
These are the odors I love well:
The smell of coffee freshly ground;
Or rich plum pudding, holly crowned;
Or onions fried and deeply browned.
The fragrance of a fumy pipe;
The smell of apples, newly ripe;
And printer's ink on leaden type.
Woods by moonlight in September
Breathe most sweet, and I remember
Many a smoky camp-fire ember.
Camphor, turpentine, and tea,
The balsam of a Christmas tree,
These are whiffs of gramarye. . .
A ship smells best of all to me!
I adore Christopher Morley's work. There is so much wisdom in this piece, and it's all done with rhyme and rhythm. Thanks for reminding me of an old favourite.