Anarchic Poems | Examples

Who Killed the MC?

Who killed the MC?
There he lay, splayed on the street
Chalk outlined mic and fist
A broken clock reads four past nine 
Tatters of a golden thread left at the scene 

Who gained from his silence?
Streets alive with revelation 
Anarchic fire in the air 
They’re coming for us with their rhymes 
Gentlemen this isn’t what we had in mind 

What will happen now he’s dead?
Yacht-and-champagne fantasies
Cheap factory beats repeat repeat 
A few mad prophets rise and fade
Suburbia falls back to sleep 

Who killed the MC?
A hot tub forged conspiracy 

June 23, 2025

Acts of Contrition

Suffer the plot of the parking lot,
Acts of attrition, lots of the disappearing shopping carts,
I had the camera out
Could hardly see where I’m going.
I called just to set up delivery
Then you laid out your whole life story
And relayed your PTSD of living with an anarchic narcissist
Neglected kids, a messy divorce, and the consequent fallout
She took him to the cleaners.
I simply walked out.
Actually, she left.
I was hard to live with.
I left it all go, years ago,
But suddenly, lately, it’s all returned.
Back in my world as if it just happened
And I am the one, all worse for ware,
Never wanting to talk about it.
Life comes back to haunt us,
Time escapes us...
No matter how far we run, or how much time passes,
That puts us right where we are, in the middle of it. ~psp

dr. p (pi)
.

Ode to Fun

Seriousness leads to statehood
Eventually it does
Fun maintains anarchic mood
A peaceful little buzz
It helps the plants to grow
It colours up the day
It makes me want to go
Just every which way
I’m living on the fun side
In hiding from aggressiveness 
Through time and space I gently glide 
Away from seriousness
I know it stalks me anyway
To occupy my time
With suffering about what may
Occur like senseless crime
I can be judged, despised and banned
But fun’s the only thing 
That never fails me in this land
Of which no bird would sing
All the calamities I’ve known
All troubles deadly heap 
Can’t shatter love, which I had sown
And fun is what I reap.

Winter Magic

Written: January 08, 2024 For Tania Kitchin Contest
            ___________________________________________

A storm swirls, hurling hail and snow,
In the bosom of winter, icy storms grow.
A scene that is both anarchic and grand,
A snowstorm, a shunned marvel of the land.
 
A whirling maelstrom is a whimsical sight,
Whispered mysteries haunt the cold night.
By merging their loads, icy crystals collide,
Winter chorus is earth-crowning pride.

Whispers of wind nurture a peculiar tune,
Melodic strains cross-changing boon.
Glazing crystals and crumbles sway,
An enthralling outlay winter waltz display.

Clerihew Ginsberg

Beat poet Allen Ginsberg
versifier to both seen&heard
The embodiment of all things anarchic
a performance art so hypnotic

Clerihew Picabia

Anarchic Francis Picabia
was involved in Art Dada
Effective art his machine style
very technical sans artistic guile

Summer Day, 1983

Grotesque
tall
neurons
sprout into the sky
screaming anarchic omniscience

Green
gold
pulses
in
incandescent eruptions

Hot
humorless
jagged
rocks cut through
omniscient anarchy

Order and Chaos

order
                      edict, decree
       restoring, maintaining, arranging
  logical, procedural, mess, pandemonium
    threatening, imposing, disintegrating
                 anarchic, turbulent
                           chaos




Date created: 05/16/2021

Tattoos

On the human skin engraved
And for long seconds watched by The Enslaved
To the speechless delight of Spirit of the Eyes
Brazenly walking away   with a victory, giant-size:
Self-pitying  sighs From The Holy Ghost
Not remembered at His invisible but nearby post.
A great saver of precious Time
Now becomes Time’s Reckless Spender,
No longer  valuing the accruing dime:
The tapestry on human skin his shaming bender:
What a magnificence - also quite dreary,
A preserver of one’s potential but in theory,
The covenanting marks largely a lasting puzzle
To the Neck-Deep Worldly, an enduring dazzle…
To forever remain paintings of resilience
 On the welcoming   flesh of People of Eminence
In some sense, the on-skin signature of The Anarchic
And  stylish affirmation of a mind, chaotic;
Sometimes a  hurried  search for an intimidating identity,
Wherefore they may be The Badge of a Non-Entitiy.

Swan Lake Doom Dance

In the midst of myself I see all a named through a blame of crystal ball garbage self imposed heaps of anarchic monumental fever itches slowly coalescing compost inflaming frolicking one step beyond destitute drowned drained primal ascents like muted strands of character counts contents--a sugary benign bene-violence renewed every 4th year by death trite trickery, bumming freedoms long necked, sticky fingered bullet borrowed Bogart abandoners like cool coup indifferentials-----hangless gyrations coordinated catastrophizes counter culture aberrations seeming short changed a dimes worth of democracy voices foot and mouth disease we move through dead brain catheters dreaming of cellular open ranges of slack composures minus politico contractual ill tongued bilateral lobotomy laden binormals laying waste to unsecured raptures---dicey yet decidedly temporary but elipticaliplapsing any Gods forgiving truth and moral divergence by appetite arbitration. Hence a gamely time of fecal folly foot loose and fancy toe tag free---------all's well that entrails well.

Demonstrators Versus Rioters

I support folks who challenge a perceived wrong by peaceful demonstration.

The First Amendment guarantees that right, when all is said and done.

But I loathe the rioting rabble who are ripping apart this great nation!

Such anarchic mobs have no respect for anything or anyone!

Bio Modified Subconscious Maverick

Subconscious

I dream eat ice cream seam stories and dig deep for meaning

Held by my lover her emotional wisdom and joyful convening

Souls are infinite as minds are essential and bodies transcend

Sadness joy and surprise deep inside are my foe and my friend

I'm afraid of blindness writer's block as well as immobile hands

Wish to stir magic potions fly broomsticks and seek foreign lands

Anarchic Romantic Escapist Utopian Republic of Blueberry Picnic

Maverick

08th April 2020

A Poetic Viewpoint

life ...
      'twixt & 
 between 
anarchic 
        asides 
pricking 
balloons :
so easy 
    on the eye 
wry smiles 
otherness 
    observed 
held on ...
       ...pause...
the perfect..
      ...point

Recipe: Poulet Roti - French Style Le Chant Royal Instalment 3

RECIPE: “Poulet Roti” French Style – Le Chant Royal (Instalment 3)

(Note: Rhyme scheme of “Le Chant Royal” where capital “E“stands for refrain, thus – Stanza: ababccddedE, Envoi: ddedE) 

STANZA  II

Cut the hot-water supply, make chicken freeze
Tear up the electric connections, the telephone
Ensure chicken swallows upstairs dust, e’en sneeze
Fix the plumbing, flood coop with merde from heaven 
Funnel exhaust fumes into coop car cabin
After fixing the engine – closed doors – unseen
And when chicken leaves coop to forage for food
Invade the coop, sabotage shower for good
So as to keep chicken skin in constant stink
See that chicken pays for all damage in blood
Give the Alien Crowd free rope’s nodding wink!

ENVOI 

Use the migrant lêches culs, the all-willing brood
Rejects from anarchic lands up to no good
Kitchen-help strut as Mason Chefs in a blink
Make their Masters’ ev’ry wish come true for good
Give the Alien Crowd free rope’s nodding wink!

©  T. Wignesan – Paris, 2017

To Sleep

To Sleep


     As relentless day slips into the night,

     Uninvited shadows from darkness creep,

     And in the quiet evening’s failing light
 
     Elusive Hypnos’ drugged captives sleep,

     In far fantastic hidden caverns deep.


     There Morpheus awakes in the sleeper’s mind,

     Where anarchic dreams play outrageous themes

     And the sleeper will untold stories find,

     In the flow of those dark subconcious streams,

     Revealed in unwilling sleep’s restless dreams.


     07/16/17

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