Tag Archives: Humour

Karen Black ~ A Villanelle

My partner has a crush on Karen Black
He watches every movie and repeat
Anyone would wonder what they lack

As actors go, she surely is a hack
but “A Trilogy of Terror” is his treat
My partner has a crush on Karen Black

It’s not as if she has a fulsome rack
But something stirs his blood to boiling heat
Anyone would wonder what they lack

I dream of Idris Elba in the sack
Sheer perfection wrapped naked in a sheet
But my man has his crush on Karen Black

Her voice so harsh the underground would frack
Split layers of the earth beneath our feet
Her smiling face would every mirror crack

Despite all this, she seems to have the knack
To entice and tease every man to cheat
My partner has a crush on Karen Black
It makes me wonder what it is I lack

Karen Black & terror Doll

 

 

 

 

 

© M.L.Emmett 2015

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Filed under Humour, Love, Poem, Poetry Form

Sonnet II ~ Fifty Seven Winters

knight in shining armour

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fifty Seven winters besieged your brow
gouging deep ruts in your beauty paddock
Quick witted armoury surrendered now
sparking like the neurons of a haddock
The Celtic black hair so thick and so strong
Now salt and peppered grey and sparsely thin
And where has that fiery tempered man gone ?
My one time brave and fearless larrikin
You’d take up the cudgels, face any fight,
survive any skirmish, stoush or battle
Your banner unfurled for the good and right
But these days, nothing your cage can rattle
Arise my champion you are not too old
A thousand warm nights before you grow cold.

First published in THE MOZZIE,Volume 14, Issue 6, July 2006

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Filed under Humour, Love, Poem, Poetry Form, Seasons, Time

Drilling for Eloquence

Lips

 

 

 

 

 

 

I want to drill for eloquence
that oil that seeps
easily out of her lips
every time she speaks

I want to pump it
in pristine, perfect pipes
around Australia

So even in the bush,
people can sound
like 18th or 19th Century,
top of the League Table,
English poets.

We’ll seem polite and genteel
educated, even erudite.
We’ll hold moments
remembered in tranquility.

We’ll think of Grecian urns,
Kubla Khan in Xanadu
as an every day affair

Conversations will naturally turn
to La Belle Dame Sans Merci
Or Mort d’Arthur

Syrup, sweet word music
will fall softer than petals
blown from roses on the grass

Passions will be expressed
without exposing flesh.

© M.L.Emmett

SA Writers’ Centre: Humorous Poetry Competition, 2010
Winner as judged by Jude Aquilina

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Filed under Australian Poetry, Humour, Language, Poem