The rhymafications of poetic assemblageBy: Jack Fabian
I get calls and emails requesting that I expose some of my poetic efforts, which baffles me if you’ve ever read some of my haphazardly organized verbiage. But before I go that direction, you need to know the following terms: acrostic, cinguain, diamante, diamonte, emotion, free verse (or at least not expensive), haiku, limerick narrative, pantoum, sonnet and villanelle.
There are many more styles of poetry; the above are just a sample. But my poetry falls into none of these categories and never will. So if you’re serious about poetry, the stuff I write will not excite your brain cells.
I take serious stories, marinate them in humor and verbally arrange things in a way that possesses rhythm and rhyme. You will find absolutely no need for the presence of a dictionary.
The following is one of my favorite pieces of “punch line” poetry, one of more than 200 I’ve had published in the last 15 years. You may have seen it before but here it is again.
“This Will Spoil Your Breakfast”
A guy woke up one morning,
found his fiancee dead in bed.
Frantically he dialed 9-1-1
before he lost his head.
The operator came on,
tried to ease his panic and his stress.
She said, “We’re going to help you sir
but we must have your address.”
He said, “I live on Eucalyptus Lane,
a street with big tall trees.”
The operator said, “That’s fine sir,
would you spell that for me, please.”
There was a silence on the phone,
some time before he spoke.
Then he said,”I’ll tell ya’ what,
I’ll drag ‘er one block over,
you can pick ‘er up on Oak.”
For your poetification and mine, here’s one more.
“Another Trip, Another Laugh.”
My wife and I have traveled a lot in recent years,
been in all 13 states and have cruised on many a ship.
What we notice is it’s always good to get home,
but after a month or two, we’re planning another trip.
A lot of funny things happen on every trip we take,
we laugh at and with people we don’t even know.
People well saturated with martinis and wine
can put on one helluva show.
A cruisin’ couple from Georgia, who could not even spell ’sober,’
headed for their stateroom feeling wild and free.
They were playing on the railing of their balcony
when they fell 60 feet into the sea.
On a trip to Vermont, we stayed in a ‘bed n’ breakfast’
on a street lined with trees, I think they were willows.
When we got to our room, there was a sign above the bed
that said, “Sleep fast, we need the pillows”.
But the funniest thing that happened was in a tiny southern town
in the Hotel America, painted red, white and blue.
I called the desk and said,”I gotta leak in my sink.”
He said, “You paid for the room,
do whatever you wanna do.”
If I made your day, I’m happy.
Jack Fabian is a Lincoln resident, writer and poet. He can be reached at email@example.com.