Let’s call this piece a Litmus test,
To see which laid plans are truly best.
Like moths to a flame,
A poem by any other name,
Will it draw their fire?
Raise Cain’s red-inked ire?
It should be easy as pie, to stop a slip of the tongue.
Of course, elitists will say that I’m fit to be hung.
It’s not about Love or a broken heart,
Not even close to State of the art.
No roses or souls or teardrops that fall,
Not about writing that’s on (or off) the wall.
No, this piece is written, as pure tongue-in-cheek.
Good Lord willing ‘gainst the rising of the Creek,
It might get a laugh all the way to the bank.
Then again, it’s just as likely to tank.
Some will argue there’s nothing new under the sun,
But my, how time flies, when you’re having such fun!
These phrases seem to be all over the map.
Why CAN’T poets build a better mousetrap?
So, how many phrases have raised the alarms?
How many have you fine readers up in arms?
Are your panties in a bunch, are you blue in the face?
I kind of had a hunch that might be the case.
Ask me no questions, I’ll tell you no lies.
But it’s a challenge to get in a word edgewise.
The cat’s out of the bag and biting this tongue,
At least I’ve been honest as the day is long.
So, this Bud’s for you, all you Grammar Nazis.
There’s poetry and Poetry, like chalk and cheese.
Oh, don’t fret, I’m leaving. I’ll call it a day.
“Everyone’s a critic”, or so They say.
Just please DON’T:
Do anything I wouldn’t do,
Make a fuss,
Bite the hand that feeds you,
Hold your breath,
Rock the boat,
Take any wooden nickels,
Reinvent the wheel,
Count your chickens before they’re hatched,
Look a gift horse in the mouth,
Shoot me, I’m just the messenger…
And last, but not least,
rain too hard on my cliché
~ C.L.R. ~ © 2011