It’s very hard to know when The Poetic Moose on the Loose is being serious, or when he’s having a larf. He makes up words and concepts all the time – it’s like living with the Monty Python cast!
So when he provides us with a new ‘Hungarian’ poetry format – badriomaku – I instantly look for the pun within the word. “Bad R I, O M Ku”? “Bad riom” (bad rhyme)? I can’t find a good one, so it’s either hidden in the depths of his rather silly imagination, or it’s a genuine poetry form he’s discovered. Either way, it now exists, so I’ve written one.
Without further ado, I present my badriomaku:
But you are clever –
of a new art form.
With a syllable count of 2-3-5-1-5-4-5, the Hungarian Badriomaku is interesting in that it gives you a structure that doesn’t fit any preconceived ideas.
I suggest all you lovely, wonderfully talented poets write one to kickstart its popularity 🙂
We collaborate, he and I
We often laugh until we cry
We’re silly almost every day
We act, we sing, we write, we play
We text each other funny lines
And always… well, maybe sometimes…
They fit together like hand in glove
As we do too, we share our love
Of words and fun and music, too
Creating things to share with you
And with this love, our hearts do sing (Click for our latest offering)
We talk in tongues
when we’re together.
Each hard at work,
taking a moment to touch
across our smiles.
We think via empathy;
our neural pathways connecting our minds
like the weave of a well-worn suit.
We kiss and rekiss;
we know the other’s ways.
But sometimes, when we start, we wobble,
because, often, our knees turn to jelly,
and it is what we do.
Here, I say, never fear,
I am in your arms
Swoon, my dear.
This is getting silly
Writin’ deep into the night
Saddle sore, wanting more
Smokin’ myself hoarse
Need to rein myself in
Brush my mane
Stir up a milky drink
Trot off to bed
Watch sheep jumpin’ hurdles
Sink into sleep
Ride the dreams