03.17.23 by Michael Bedlam (an acrostic poem) Image: i0.wp.com/brophisticate.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/fish-slap.jpeg “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!”
11.11.22 by Michael Cork (an acrostic poem) Image: images.fineartamerica.com/images-medium-large-5/1-champagne-and-cork-exploding-from-bottle-andy-roberts.jpg Cutlass sang as it was pulled from its sheathOrdering everyone to pay attention to what was about to happenRaising the bottle high, he slammed the blade upwardKealhauling the glass top away, and with it, it carried the …
07.01.22 by Michael Hike (an acrostic poem) Image: i.wnc.io/s1024/2015-09-06_pisgah-mills-river_laurel-mountain-trail-green-moss.jpg He slowly walked up the mountain It was going to change his life Knowing he could finally get that question answered Except there was a wise guy and not wise man at the top
06.14.22 by Michael Elvis (an acrostic poem) Image: kindpng.com/picc/m/212-2122912_stickers-the-shadow-of-elvis-png-download-elvis.png 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
04.08.22 by Michael Fear (an acrostic poem) Image: i.ytimg.com/vi/geAcKDeRlNc/maxresdefault.jpg 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?”
01.20.22 by Michael Instrument (an acrostic poem) Image: wallpaperbat.com/img/230401-rock-band-instrument-wallpaper-top-free-rock-band-instrument.jpg 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!
12.31.21 by Michael Festival (an acrostic poem) Image: cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0220/9892/products/5x8_Preview_BD_205_PAT.jpg 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…”
10.13.21 by Michael Roof (an acrostic poem) Image: dictionary.com/e/wp-content/uploads/2018/11/tin-roof-rusted-2.jpg 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!
03.21.21 by Michael Over (an acrostic poem) Image: i.redd.it/bc0psy2ptyk61.jpg On top of all things, Macy waited Verifying that everyone in her domain was doing what she desired Everyone today seemed to be listening to her wishes Reaching our with one paw, she batted at the dust to demonstrate her approval
02.26.21 by Michael Cider (an acrostic poem) Image: assets.epicurious.com/photos/58332829de1def5b05b7eb37/16:9/w_2560%2Cc_limit/hard_apple_cider_21112016.jpg 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