Bawled Poems

Jesuitta

Jesusita 

God only had a daughter, 
Jesuitta, whom he gave to teach us love. 
She was a good little girl with blond, curly hair, and often helped her mother 
with the washing up and other household chores. 
As she grew up and became a shapely young woman, 
she coveted by men, who could not grasp  her preaching 
of unconditional love was not about sex;
They began talking behind her back. 
Rumors had it she had twelve lovers
there was talk of orgies with wine, fried fish, and fresh bread.
She went to the church, demanded to be heard, and asked why there were no women priests and why they let sleazy merchants sell overpriced artifacts. 
The clerics, who had had enough of this noisy woman, told Pilatus to do something.
He first raped her and, to his shock, realized that Jesuitta was a virgin; 
This knowledge haunted him for the rest of his life. 
Nevertheless, he threw her to his Roman Legionnaires as a usual tart. And the men taunted her: 
“Is this what you meant by calling love absolute, 
they bawled. 
Their women said nothing. 
They put her on the cross as the semen of a thousand soldiers 
ran down her legs, she died with forgiveness in her heart.

An Onomatopoeia Morning

It started with the beeping of my clock.
Sometimes I want to bash that irksome thing.
My dog barked for his food and then a walk.
While walking him, my cell phone went brring brrring.
I passed some school girls chattering away
like chirping birds. Back to my house I went
to feed the cats that mewed without delay.
I grunted next. My bills had gone unsent.
To mail them I zoomed off inside my car.
It rained. Outside my car I had to slosh
through puddles with no boots on. Great! Har har.
I splashed back to my car, and oh my gosh,
someone had whammed into my new car’s door.
I nearly bawled. Not even noon – what more?

Numb

I was asked how I was feeling today
I was weirded out and I didn't know what to say
Maybe it’s that I don’t know feelings
Or maybe because my answer isn’t appealing
Or because no one would understand
It’s like I should have an automatic answer planned

After some self-contemplation
There really is no explanation
I feel nothing at all
I’m not depressed, I can't remember the last time I cried, let alone bawled
I’m not happy
I don’t know what I am, it’s even weird to be snappy

But if I say I’m numb
I look extremely dumb
People start judging
Then if I say I’m ok, they’ll know I’m bluffing
But what else can you do
Then say I’m good instead of the truth

Skimming The Ocean

I don't count the waves
Shaking me; perhaps fearful
Of going under.

After a pure kiss
Changed to salt; pushed back on shore—
Scars beneath my feet;

2 a.m. holds no
Claim to drown; a darkened throw
Of sand to heaven.

World bawled in a fist,
Where she is held up, not far
From me— home, not far.

Marlboro Man

Rowdy came up over the hill like a vision.
I knew he was still chasing the errant calf
Calf bawled as lasso whipped through the air
Marlboro man I thought

Little Miss Trouble

Little Miss Trouble got in a muddle 
Went head first into a muddy puddle
It gave her a fright 
And it serves her right 
Cos she was always looking for trouble...

Went home in tears to daddy and mommy 
And bawled its always happening to me
Dad said " it's the price" 
So here's some advice
"Try and be nice in twenty twenty three" ... 

Daddy said "your character you must tweak"  
Gave it her best shot and lasted a week 
Found it all too strange 
She just couldn't change 
Cos she'll always have an unfriendly streak... 

Written 10th January 2023

The Big Halloween Sulk

The shadow sulked in a puddle of drool,
Dribbling, it bawled out its eyes on a stool,
Hot chocolate with tears,
Starbursts and gummy bears,
It’s hard to devour sweets when you’re a ghoul.


30/10/22

A Glesga Setterday Nicht

“Gaun an bile yer heid” he bawled oot,
As he stood in the middle o the cobbled street.
Tae nae yin in particular.
Did he vent his anger.
Fu as a whaulk he staggered and swayed
Wan pin rooted tae the graun,
Ither yin moved like a dervish,
Gaun naewhaur fast.
He should of been hame
Wi his wifie and weans
But naw he insisted 
Wi a wee refreshment wi his pals.
Jist a hauf an a hauf an a wee blether
Pittin the world tae rights.
But man the craik was brill that nicht
Whit a pity it ended in a fecht.
Nothing though like the fecht
He wid huv when at home.
His wifie stood livid at the door
Tears a dripping ontae the floor
Weans moaning and bawling
Nae dinner again old mans supping fu.
Setterday nicht in Glasga toon
Lying sprawled an fu unner the moon,

©Andrew P McIntyre 2015-05-28.

Just a Remembrance

Young lads in their teens and Gung Ho,
Signed on the dotted, all said let's go.
A bedraggled bunch were dumped at the gate,
A sergeant trying to form us up straight.
Stopped at each spider to drop off a few,
In we all went wondering what to do.
Most never been away from home before,
All confused asking what was in store.
Bawled out for talking too much,
He was a Geordie, could have been Dutch.
From then each day was all a whirlwind,
Awake before dawn to a clatter of noise,
A fearful time, we were only young boys.
Getting kit, marching after a fashion,
Scorned by the sergeant, shouted with passion.
Medical tests, bend over and cough.
If he goes behind me, I swear, I'm off.
It was all a bit heady in those early days,
We managed somehow to form up in line,
We grew as a group and managed just fine.
It was a million miles from where I had come,
It was worth it to see the man I'd become.
©Dave Timperley  11/10/2021

Learning From Great Aunt Ruth

She opened her cantankerous mouth and out came the truth
There was nothing not honest about my clever Aunt Ruth
The whats-its and fruts-its were scared of her though.
Especially terrified that she was way off in the know.

She would not hesitate to give her opinions on zebras and milk.
Her ideas were her own, and they did not come out smooth as silk.
She was a big believer in herself, no matter what the whats-its said.
Fruts-its were terrified of her; she had somehow stunned one of them dead.

I said Great Aunt Ruth, why do you always say what you mean?
Why ever would you ask such a silly thing, my nephew, kidney bean?
I mean, what if you offend people, marching your mouth off that way?
It’s me I have to please she told me. I need to be happy at the end of day.

So I followed her around and watched the other relatives look pleased.
They loved it that she confused others. Some cried, bawled, hid, and sneezed.
You either love her or hate her, but she always lives her own fabulous truth!
You have to love someone as self-confident and loud as your lovely Aunt Ruth!

Playful

Betsy was quite fickle
A cow who loved her pickle
She ate it with corn
As her calf bawled, forlorn
To be left with only a trickle
Of milk not worth a nickel
Since, in all truth, it did mourn
For milk that didn’t taste like a pickle




PLAYFUL word chosen
P Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
September 25, 2021



Nursery Rhyme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Eve Roper
March 6, 2021

Sundae

My brain bawled
like a hound. 
I was taken aback, 
by the sound. 

I took another bite, 
as they swept past me;
like a 90's reel, 
all my memories. 

Years of forethought;
my assiduous labour made sense. 
I finally felt that day, 
the taste of sundae.

Elevated Thoughts

The little imp bawled lustily
as it lay in its perambulator
there by the water fountain
in a secluded garden
right in the middle of a concrete jungle,
disturbing my elevated thoughts
that churned and churned inside my mind
on how to kill those pesky flies
that infested my rundown abode.
 
It was no use for me
to kick any brilliant idea around,
so long as that pesky brat
disturbed the silence all around.
Why even the doves stopped cooing
and other birds stopped chirping,
whilst most decided that 'twas best
to search for a quieter place.
 
So I walked up to his comely nurse
sitting contentedly on a bench
and scratching my unshaven face
I quite politely asked
why the little cherub cry so much!
 
She looked me up and down
and down and up, no doubt
disgusted by what she discerned.
"Maybe he's seeing a devil,"
she replied, cooing at the cherub
that made its bright new pram
quiver with yelping wails.
 
"Or maybe he's thirsty,"
scathingly I replied.
Cherub my foot, I thought.
And sighing I slowly repaired
back to my solitary bench
and thought and thought on
how I could kill those parasites
that bothered me as much
as that little cherub in the pram.

Mathematics 2

You think,
I blink.

Curves called,
Not bawled.

Tan can,
Scope fan.

Change rate,
In state.

Vector,
Rector.

Equals,
Owls.

Calc weight,
The rate.

Applied,
Filed tiled.

Practice,
Chalice.

Building,
Wielding.

NASA,
Bless her.

Eco,
Set mo.

Eco,
Set blow.

Medic,
Metric.

Bio,
We know.

Techo,
Clear row.

For us,
Deluxe.

Human,
The lan.

Footprint,
In mint.

Graphs pie,
Grey dye.

Only;
Found eye.

Cosine,
No twine.

Sin blare,
We care.

Where Is Thy Sting

The hand, now cold as alabaster,
the one that stroked my fevered brow,
or applied the Germolene and plaster,
is old and withered and lifeless now.

Kind eyes, the first I ever saw,
watched over my formative years,
watched as I bawled and crawled and more,
but now they shed no tears.

Hair, once lustrous, that tickled my nose,
and shone in the sun like burnished gold,
framing a face that would shame a rose,
now looking lank and grey and old.

Full lips that kissed my scabby knees
and told me, "There, there, that's fine,"
that could charm the birds right out the trees,
now a rictus, no more than a line.

There is no dignity nor comfort in dying,
it robs us of all human trait
and those that say different are only lying,
to spare us contemplating our fate.

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