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Iolanthe Woulff

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Member Since: May, 2010

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· She's My Dad

· A British Petroleum Afternoon

· Mom-in-Law

· That P Word

· Organized Religion

· So Long, Mr. Hot Pants

· Malibu Majesty

· Lament for Eden

· The Faithbug

· Rain of Toxic Terror

· Infertility's Child

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Books by Iolanthe Woulff
  Slough of Despond
by Iolanthe Woulff
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Rated "G" by the Author.

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Recent poems by Iolanthe Woulff
•  Purple Pickles
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           >> View all 56

With respects to John Bunyan, an allegorical pilgrimage of a different sort.

I went to a great university once.

The orotund professors there

counseled me to cut my hair,

said I hadn't any flair,

wouldn't study, didn't care,

thought their thoughts were so much air...

So, I packed up my stuff and moved on.


I went to a vast metropolis once.

The vicious violence, fetid smells,

murder victims' plaintive yells,

knee-deep dog crap, clanging bells,

overflowing prison cells,

deadly air and poisoned wells,

rather gave me sleepless spells...

So, I packed up my stuff and moved on.


I went to a foreign country once.

The smirks and sneers and hate galore,

the rat-eyed cops behind each door,

rip-off artists by the score,

filthy rich amassing more,

system rotten to the core,

altogether made me sore...

So, I packed up my stuff and moved on.


I went back to my home town once.

The sex shop where my house had been,

squalid projects rank with sin,

drifting beggars, pale and thin,

honking horns and raucous din,

liquor forts dispensing gin,

kind of put me in a spin...

So, I packed up my stuff and moved on.


I went to a beautiful planet once.

But constant wars and endless greed,

starving poor and needless need,

spite in every word and deed,

bombs instead of food and seed,

made it plain for me to read:

They would die before succeed.

So, I packed up my stuff and...



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Reviewed by D Johnson
'and....' where else could you go, and what would you look for? Nice write.

Reviewed by Victoria's Poetry & Voices of Muse
very interesting read with a groovin rhyme...

Crick Ponds and Streaming Ravines
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