Tag Archives: blues


Before beginning to write goofy poetry a few weeks ago, my other period of writing poetry was in 2006 when I took a Poetry Workshop with one of my favorite professors. The first poems we wrote were cinquains. The cinquain is a five-line, syllabic form with the following pattern:

Line 1: 2 syllables
Line 2: 4 syllables
Line 3: 6 syllables
Line 4: 8 syllables
Line 5: 2 syllables

Before sharing the cinquains, which were the first few poems I ever wrote, I would like to invite you all to compose and share cinquains with me. [I hope to eventually figure out a  graceful way to provide prompts and to receive and display entries; I would welcome any advice regarding how to make the prompt/respond process intuitive and interactive.] Please do not laugh…these were my first poems, and I know that some of them are cheesy!

Blues is
naked music
stripped of all pretension
Until only raw emotion

the rose without
the prick to remind us
that, though beautiful, love causes
such pain.

Trapped for
in polished celluloid,
moments call their cage not “jail,” but


red eye dangling
from a smooth black cable,
swaying solemnly in noon’s soft,
sad wind.

devours beauty,
consumes clear skin;
once sated, digests, excretes a

“King Snake”
King Snake,
royal reptile,
though Lion rules jungles,
when grown weary of throne, he can’t
shed skin.

“Red Sand”
For sand:
Crimson-stained land
ever redder becomes
soaked with blood of zealots on a

These lips
will serve to bare
my frenzied soul to you–
not with whispered, honeyed words but
a kiss.

as summer’s sun
has made my skin, its rays
fail to melt the frozen traffic
I’m in.

“Lost and Found”
Do not
Despair that you’ve
Lost so much weight of late;
For I’ve found it and wish to give
It back.

and twenty years
we had Morrison and
Hendrix. So quickly burned out our
Bright Jims.

“Dream 1”
And Attila
play chess and smoke cigars
in a realm beyond time and space
and stars.

“Dream 2”
I saw you there
playing and dancing, a
smile on your face and ribbons in
your hair.


5 Limericks a Day [to Keep the Dr. Away] By Paul O’Burgess (Day 11)

Although no one reads them, I must continue to post limericks until the 200+ that I have written are all on my blog:D Coming soon: a series on writing poetic forms. The series will begin with a guide to writing limericks:) [To adapt a phrase from the great blues artist John Lee Hooker, “Let that boy write his limericks, ‘cuz he’s got it in him, and he’s gotta get it out.”]

“Lonely, Single, and Sad”

There was once a graying old guy
Who decided to give love a try.
So, he posted an ad
That said “Lonely and sad,”
But no ladies would ever reply.

“Slick Dick”

I read once to gain more insight
About Nixon’s account of that night.
The words in that book
Say the man’s not a crook,
And clearly a book’s always right.

“Swiss Kiss”

There’s a girl from the land of the Swiss
Who attempted to give me a kiss.
But the size of her lips,
Is as vast a ship’s,
So, I politely declined the girl’s kiss.

“Who Pays for Praise?”

Those who’ve read the limericks I write
Have experienced deepest delight.
That’s what they all say,
Perhaps ‘cause I pay
Those people to praise what I write.

“A True Story”

I’ve started to write me a blog
To be cherished by human and dog.
The people will clap,
And the canines will yap
With glee when perusing my blog.