In this rule book I carry till the day I die,
first lesson is; you have to learn to lie,
and cover those wounds with a wistful sigh,
'cause penguins wouldn't be loved the same if they could fly.

Wyatt R Apr 18

This time I know that
I want to write a haiku
that doesn't obey rules.

Brian Densham Apr 15

I do not make the rules
That bring a proud man to his knee
I don’t endorse a justice
That denies his dignity
Nor do I write the laws
That stop a free man being free
I do not make the rules
… The rules make me

Copyright 20013 B.Densham
Megan H Mar 23

You grabbed the rule book
And ripped it in half
Then you blamed
The other players of the game
For your own misery

You never did like rules.
You created your own as you went
But when things didn't go your way,
It was the fault of others.
And now you're alone.

Cheaters never win the game.

Francie Lynch Feb 25

We're squeezed in a topsy-turvy
Screw-ball world;
What's upside is down,
What's inside is out;
Your smile's a frown,
Your whisper's a shout,
And the flim-flam man
Just pitched a curve.
We're headed to second
After rounding third,
And first is stolen;
This game's absurd.
So, I gather up my bat and ball,
I've read the writing on the wall,
I've turned, running for home.
We've been tagged on bad calls.
We were safe, but now we're out,
Exiled, banished, conflicted, confused,
There's nothing good on the news.
The umps and refs have all been turned,
We've been benched,
We've been spurned.
Behind me,
Someone calls out,
     Play Ball;

Gabriel Burns Jan 3

Love doesn't rhyme;
the rules imposed,
the frames we chose,
do not apply,
although we try
to tame its flow
we sink below,
we seek
salvation by escape;
we bravely dove
but there's the threat
of drowning

the rhythm
and the melody
it's giving us,
all random...
but do we
lose ourselves
to find them,
or is it them
we lose
to find ourselves,
I cannot help
but wonder...

Tiarnán Murphy Jan 24

What Is the heart of poetry
Rules, rhyme, meter, mood?
Length, width, depth, height?
It matters not what's in sight
Be it saintly or true crude
When a poet writes, poetry

In favour of doing what makes you happy.
Julia Traina Jan 23

Well, its not going very far,
trying to escape,
it thinks         if it could just
                                                       ­  bounce,
                                                               ­           bounce
across the smooth ceiling
one        centimeter      at      a     time,
that somehow the tiles will just
open up into
                                                         open sky
                                                             ­                                       But what then?
Is floating into nothing,
really better than constant incarceration?
At least,
here it has a place
At least,
it has people watching.

do we just follow the rules, or it it better to break free?
Alan S Bailey Jan 22

Sure, I've ruined it again!
Follow me around like I'm the actual
And only problem. You'll eventually get yours!
So you think I'm the ultimate biggest of fools?

(Well, for once and for all, check yourself!)

Nice people finish last, and there's nothing nice
About going around with personal problems, that I
Have to fit your personal standard, even when they
Are following all of the standard rules!

I don't expect ANYONE to read this. Enough said. I know you don't like when I add any personal feelings to my work, guys! But at least I express my true feelings!
Brent Fisher Jan 21

cut and cloth and clutter
fluttering about, dotted lines,
clotted blots, parking fines,
issues with the lettering of
that gilded sign out front,
quite a stunt he pulled,
prying out a premise
from nothing, man,
that was something.

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