The exercise:
The starter for today is: dead battery.
Mine:
I cannot move,
My song won't ring;
Can someone tell me
What's wrong with this thing?
Oh, I see now,
It's as you've said;
The problem, quite clearly,
Is that my battery is dead.
4 comments:
His specs are all dirty,
The wife's getting shirty;
She fell over his stick
As they came out the door.
Hearing aid's gone west,
There's a thump in his vest
Where his pacemaker's
Slowing some more.
Now his hands are all numb
(And so is his bum).
Then the last thing he said
Was - My battery's dead.
The tick tock of his heart
slowed until it stopped
did he notice the tingle
in fingertips
or was it ignored
as he imagined
it was just the pain of
a heart that never mended
after being broken
by the girl in the
pink gingham dress
forty years ago
(Train of thought... dead battery, what needs a battery, cars, watches, tick tock, heart beat, pace maker, heart, heart ache, slowing heart, broken heart, skip the death, go with heart ache, no go with broken heart, make the girl cute, no make the image of the girl cute to contridict the sadness of the slowing heart, but does anyone die of a broken heart? doesn't matter it is poetry and imagery so just go with it.)
A single shot rang out,
And made the kettle drum resound,
He dropped the glockenspiel,
And toppled to the ground.
The police were called in quickly,
While the violins played on,
They asked a lot of questions,
And hunted for the gun.
"We really like your playing,"
said the chief with sincere flatt'ry,
"But I think it's missing something
to do with your dead battery."
[Battery is a lovely word with a few meanings: here it's the percussion section of an orchestra.]
Scriptor Senex - the west/vest rhyme was great.
Laura Jayne - loved the poem but was absolutely thrilled that you shared your train of thought. That's totally brilliant :)
Greg - I can always count on you to do something unexpected and well written.
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