National Poetry Month–Guest Poet 2: richardelguru

In my continuing observance of National Poetry Month, I present my second guest poet–too modest, but I am a sucker for a new verse form:

I’m more of an essayist, but I once (possibly) invented the Hairimeraku.
There are essays explaining the structure and the necessity of them fulfilling “both the exacting requirements of the Japanese haiku, and the even more exacting requirements of the Irish limerick… the best of them having both seasonal and salacious aspects as befits their combined ancestry” here and here, but I’ll add the verse here to save you the disappointment of visiting my site.

I’d visit anyway–it’s actually a pretty cool story of the invention of the verse… but since he added them, here they are:

Fairly young wench
The winds make blench.
Tattered dress,
Her own mess,
Cold rains drench

A young lady,
Name of Sadie,
Cherry pit
Wants to spit
Somewhere shady.

See that girl there
Climbing the stair.
She should know,
Crowd below…

Old man with beard
Thought he was feared
By those near
And quite far.
He was weird.


The Poet Foresees His Death in a Drop of Rain

Autumn rain drips,
Walking girl slips.
Yobs cry “Ha!
“Boo!” and “Ya!”
—Foolish quips.

The Poet is Perplexed by Love

Spring in Khartoum,
Evening room.
Who does what,
And with what,
And to whom?

The Poet Revisits Certain Topics of the Admirable Rabbie Burns Involving Small Animals and a Certain Amount of Hypermetricality

Spring brings the mole
From out his hole.
Farmer Dick
Has a stick…
Sad moles’ bell tolls.

The Poet Contemplates the Transitory Nature of this Sublunary Sphere as Made Manifest by the Agency of Grammatical Change

What I would give
Were it to live


Young man from Kent
Why are you bent,
With your foot
Like a root
In cement?



  1. says

    A robust mating of the “seasonal and salacious”–the nice and the naughty–each entry a total delight, as are Richard’s richly tongue-in-cheek commentaries. The one most endearing, closest to my grammatical yearnings, is his elegy on the moribund subjunctive. Thank you, Richard, for these cerebral nuggets.

  2. says

    Hi Cuttle,
    Thanks for posting the poems. I do hope more people post.

    Perhaps you could post a poetry-month reminder??
    Here’s a little limerick (sort of in thanks) for you:
    There’s no fish like the cuttle
    Its behaviour is so subtle.
     I’d think it a god,
     If it weren’t so odd
    That its brain is so close to its butt’le
    (Sorry for that last line, but you try to find words that rhyme with ‘cuttle’)

  3. cm's changeable moniker (quaint, if not charming) says

    There are plenty of good rhymes for “cuttle”.
    This opinion brooks no rebuttal.
    But if you think hmm!
    There might be some room
    We could fire one to space in a shuttle?

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