Brian Mayo

A man with a gun whispers
in a field of wildflower and tall grass.
I listen,
like skipping stones by moonlight.
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I'd like to tell everyone about
the great poem I'm going to be writing
very soon.
It's really going to be terrific.
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Here's a poem for you to steal
Just take it; don't be shy
I'm sure the man who wrote it has
An adequate supply.
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“You’ll never be a poet, sir! ”
I’ve heard the others cry.
As if the thought had not occurred…
It has, I can’t deny.
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My father was a poet and my mother was depressed
The bed that she got pregnant on was quickly repossessed
Now homeless, she gave birth to me on cold November ground
And there she left me lay because I only weighed a pound
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Hi,

I've been asked to provide some clear, easy-to-understand tips on writing poetry- -tips that anyone can use to start producing first-rate poems in as little as five minutes. Ready? Let's go!
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I once wrote a poem so transparent
That no one who read it could see
The masterpiece clearly inherent
But visible only to me.
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One day,
I asked my mother why
she hated poetry
and she quite suddenly stopped
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All them little Christians
In their little Christian cars
Headin' up to heaven
Gonna live among the stars.
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It seems that a lady named Pam
Got caught in a bad traffic jam
So she put it in park
And then, just for a lark,
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MY STORY BY A. POEM

First, let me start by saying I was never that fond of poetry.
I know, I know- -I AM a poem…
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I caution you, don’t read too much-
This poem will surely kill.
Which line holds the lethal touch?
Well, that’s part of the thrill...
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Like salmon we, against the current, strive
We seek a path to virtue that's direct
The few remaining steadfast will survive
To earn the peace that comes with self-respect.
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MY PIEM

**
Can a piem, a vapid potpourri of random words and ideas, generate discourse amongst theorists?
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From the Desk of Pope Francis
March,2014

To whom it may concern:
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I stood before the Pearly Gates.
I hung my head in shame.
St. Peter peered into his book-
But did not see my name.
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In a barren,
rocky field
a forgotten bicycle lay
rusting,
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I'm sure you've heard the story where a young boy's dream came true
Inheriting a factory, and tiny workers, too
But ask yourself, just what would motivate a man to quit
Unless he has some knowledge he's not willing to admit?
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