Well, this is great. Two completely different kinds of poetry being pitted against one another.
I must confess, I'm NOT the poetic genius that you are, Dear, Dear Lemon. I merely have fun with words. (but it makes me grin to read and write these posts)
All of my poems (save for the original moneky one) are all spur of the moment, well, crap. I have never rehearsed or written these down. Call it chaotic, call it Snarfalism, call it chicken butt poo on the head. I don't care.
Here's some more rantalicious beklings.

Bullpoo makes the flowers grow, and that's beautiful..."A poem"
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Bullpoo makes the flowers grow,
and that's beautiful.

Spreading chaos,
never lies.

Makes me secretly
slap my thighs.

Rumor here,
fumer there.

The Greyface attacks everywhere!
I have to thwart his serious efforts,
lest I be slain by Snomefrits.

"Gobble" five times I say,
Thou rainy villian,
Greyface nay!

Don't try to push your crap on me,
because I don't like poo of monkeys.

<bow>


That made no sense. but hey, whatever.

Penned by my hand on the 5th of Mayan, in the year 241 AF.