Bedlam (an acrostic poem)

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Bonkers, it’s absolutely bonkers I say.”

Everything is in turmoil?”

Double turmoil, with a cherry on top and a fireball whiskey chaser!”

Let’s calm down for a moment.  What happened?”

All I can say is it involves a fish, a poleaxe, and two large bottles of ammonia.”

Maybe it’s best if I don’t know.  I don’t want to go to jail!”

Cork (an acrostic poem)

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Cutlass sang as it was pulled from its sheath
Ordering everyone to pay attention to what was about to happen
Raising the bottle high, he slammed the blade upward
Kealhauling the glass top away, and with it, it carried the …

Elvis (an acrostic poem)

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Every thrust of his hips was planned to showcase his nature

Leaving girls and women screaming at the top of their lungs

Vexing the men that had accompanied them, secretly jealous of his powers

It was a coming of age for an entire generation

Summarized in a single man, an icon, a legend

Fear (an acrostic poem)

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Focusing on what caused him to tremble

Embracing the terror he held in his hand

Allowed him to rise above that base emotion and use it to his advantage

Reaching for the top of the box he opened it and asked, “Will you marry me?”

Instrument (an acrostic poem)

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It felt like Bob was being played

Not that the rest of his bandmates would agree

Songwriting was his thing, coming up with melodies and words, but harmonies…

That’s why Bob had to admit producing was not his forte

Ron was the guy arranging all his songs, and Bob was usually happy with that

Until Ron was insistent that this idea would put the song over the top

Meaning he should buy into it, trust Ron and the process

Except this idea seemed so dumb that he just couldn’t get behind it

Now everyone was staring at him wondering why he wouldn’t at least try, but

There was no way that a ballad needed more cowbell!

Festival (an acrostic poem)

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Feasting on some tasty thigh meat

Ernie thought this celebration during Yuletide was the best

As there were so many yummy dishes to choose from

The more unusual the better, of course, to a gastronome like himself

It was for this particular moment that he wrote that silly repetitious song so long ago

Vivid imagery that was in the song focused on each of the dozen dishes that he now partook

And it always made him laugh when he crossed the Veil and heard one of the meat sacks sing it

Lifting another hunk of milkmaid on top of his piece drummer, he hummed “five golden rings…”

Roof (an acrostic poem)

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Raise the top part of the dwelling

Or the outer ceiling, the outer ceiling, the outer ceiling is on fire

Or that thing about a more folksy violinist on the shingles

For one last one, You’re what?      Tin Parapet!         Rusted!

Cider (an acrostic poem)

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Cold pressed apple fluids left outside in a large jug

In the dead of winter the water freezes on top

Driving the flavor into a more concentrated solution below

Each time the blah ice is then removed and the process repeats over and over for months

Rewarded finally with a fermented drink that tasted of sunny autumn days and patience