Best Accusatory Poems
POTD 2 July 2018
Humans are capable of ‘Changing their State’. At times, a stressful, negative fusillade can be encountered from an individual wishing to subvert a person for whatever reason.
Lady Gaga so aptly describes this in her video clip above - and she should know through experience.
Kindness is a sentiment no one can ultimately reject.
Hard to do you say? - It’s easy.
Firstly, refuse your alter ego permission to react immediately.
(Your alter ego is programmed to protect your from a ‘painful’ situation)
The brain is a Bio-computer and can easily be reset to ‘Default’ by breathing into your abdomen (not into your lungs), - hold and then exhale, each action performed slowly to the count of 6.
Accusatory fingers pointing ~ eyes glowing hate
Seeds of venom spewing forth slanderous lies
Jealousy in all its inglorious green eyed splendor
Wool clothed wolves with undetectable smiles
Any tick of the clock it creeps up upon you
Evil plays no favorite it’s any man’s game
Seeming to push you up that stairway of victory
Then perniciously denigrates ~ disavowing any blame
Damned if you do ~ Damned if you don’t
Kindness perceived as weakness gets cast out the door
Tendencies to vacillate creates chinks in your armour
Resolutely walk the tight rope ~ lest your knees hit the floor
Eyes wide shut to the Evil all around us
Detach from this Chaotic Web in which we dwell
Be the Peace that ceaselessly penetrates the darkness
YOUR prerogative is to choose either ~ Heaven or HellPOTD 2 July 2018
Categories:
accusatory, inspirational, uplifting,
Form:
Rhyme
Such promises you made when asking for our vote
But it’s been a year and your vows are now remote
What happened to removing troops from the Mideast
And finding the right recipe for economic relief
Hungry families still living in shabby tents
Unemployed fathers pounding streets as they vent
New foreclosure signs are erected every day
As in Washington with our dollars leaders play
That gleam in your eye once inspired us to have hope
But middle-class tax breaks were not enough to cope
With rising prices at the pumps and in food stores
The uninsured yet sit on emergency room floors
Though you still seem to feel you have us hoodwinked
Betrayal is sensed by those struggling on the brink
We now look to you with accusatory eyes
Wondering how we consumed your pack of lies
Perhaps your intentions were good but believe us
You are not our Savior; His name was Jesus
Although we remain “one (stressed) nation under God”
In your next campaign you won’t get our nod
We’ll just take our cause to a far higher Power
Because in politicians, our trust has been soured
Dedicated to ALL of the politicians who made promises that have not been fulfilled.
Categories:
accusatory, angst, political, social
Form:
Couplet
The Tangled Web
Lines on her face grew deeper when fabrications were conceived
When further contradictions came, she knew not what to believe
Caught in a lie I’d be sent to my room; there’d be no reprieve
Mom said, "A tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive”
My boyfriend had no license yet; we wanted to double date
To get my mom’s permission, a lie I had to perpetrate
Claimed the driver was my boyfriend’s brother to mom’s fears abate
This was the first strand in a tangled web I chose to create
When the invitation to his wedding came, mom was irate
The “driver” had another last name, more lies I did inflate
“They have the same mom, just different dads,” but this did not equate
She’d met his Catholic parents; divorce was against our mandate
“His older brother’s father died.” This made my mom a skeptic
I wish mom would have washed my mouth out with an antiseptic
For now the web that hovered above had grown so very thick
Mom was on to me for sure, so she devised a clever trick
At mass my mom asked his where her first husband had been buried
How quickly she responded, “I’ve never before been married.”
For two years these lies had grown, and so much guilt I had carried
This snowball led me to declare I’d never again mislead
Though the truth may bring results that are unsatisfactory
You won’t be covered by webs built of story upon story
And when the truth prevails, you won’t see eyes accusatory
Or spend your teen years in a room filled with falsehoods’ armory
*True story for Paula’s “My Parent” contest
Categories:
accusatory, confusion, mothermom, me, mom,
Form:
Rhyme
Tough skinned -strong, take it and dish it out.
Thin skinned - overly sensitive.
Skin of our teeth -
struggle for life, survival.
Skin defines and designs us,
the skin we’re in, through pain, color issues, death and life.
Skin-If skin could talk.
Fascinating story.
Not just color of skin but skin which is our body fabric, the material that wraps our
soul and our innermost parts silky, splashed with water, warmth, cologne, love
and labor-skin.
yes john heck this is prose but...the skin I'm in Part One
Touch comes through skin and touch informs us of so much. The way people
touch us tells us if they are comfortable with us and with themselves.
It can be hostile, strident touch; rough, accusatory, disciplining, invasive or it can
be sensual, exciting, invigorating, accepting, encouraging, loving, comforting.
Skin Talk
too frequent breakouts, rashes, allergies, sores, impetigo, suffered
embarrassment, pain and shame. Scars! Coco butter for every nick and scrape.
But my black knees and those scars embarrassing in
swimsuits or shorts
legs were scarred with black spots.
Marvin Taylor called me leopard legs in fifth grade and fifty years later,
I remember the sting, shame and pain of it.
Campaigned against my scarred legs with scrubs and other potions until the
spots began to fade and a sense of perspective...
skin challenges, burns, rapid tissue growth that should disfigure -yet the
elephant man walks with dignity and grace in his could be monster face
severe acne in the face, severe psoriasis and yet their character and ways of
dealing with these problems determine their real image, reflection and persona
life is a gift that can not be determined by black spots on legs.
Categories:
accusatory, black african american, health,
Form:
Narrative
A hiding place, a warm and darkened room,
A lit doorway, bright against the dark,
Cold against the warmth, a frame for odd
Assorted stranger-forms whose faces loom
As quarrels over (what?) convulse and rend them,
Leering laughter giving in to vicious
Sneers, bared fangs, silent snarls
Of wretched, clutching, atavistic mayhem,
A terror once removed. Inside that hole
Distant from the proximal horrid window
Where twisted evil shadow-puppets fight
Peculiar faint amusement seems to roll
Like waves around the cave, detached and born
Of safety via distance, of certainty
That out would never be in, that warmth was safe,
That war above, so far away, forlorn,
Could be watched as from a languid seat
Far recessed in a darkened empty theater,
Nestled snugly, listening to the voice
Which comments on the raging battle heat.
From somewhere up, behind, not left nor right,
But from the center, voice and fight both
Directly sensed, as if they each occurred
In a vacuum, touch and smell, sound and sight
Being interchangeable and void.
The fighters jab and poke, madly gouge,
And neither gains advantage, being justly
Matched, as both are faceless, the man
At left pitted fair against the shrewish
Plot of his opponent, evil woman.
Both in turn appeal for judgment, turning
Away from fighting to glare and wave and hiss
Silently for a verdict on the ghastly driven
Feud which now has stopped, as it began,
Abruptly, and receiving none, for in
The silence no answer can be given
(Besides which, being taken by surprise
And overcome by sudden fear, aware
Of change in circumstance) the watcher is mute,
The murderous woman lunges at his very eyes
In deadly assault, bent on maiming, killing,
Groping fiercely at his open throat
For no apparent reason; and the comfort
Of the soothing voice utterly halts.
Words without sound fly like spears between them
Accusatory fingers gesture madly
And spittle from their half-crazed livid mouths
Wings through air in visual acid anthem
To this grisly deadly tandem fight
That seems the worse being set in relief
By the rectangular hole that serves as both
Window and door, divider of dark and light,
No protection, as threshold battle threatens
Him within, as blind hatred rages
In deft slashes of lengthy fingernails
While foe from foe extracts macabre debt.
Categories:
accusatory, dream, imagery, psychological,
Form:
Iambic Pentameter
Romancing The Turtle
A second or third party of unknown origin
Fragmented theories, partially substantiated as of this hour
Fully disclosed an encounter
Between a man and a tortoise or turtle
They told a tale to a friend of a friend
Regarding an unnatural act as a fact
Between a turtle and man caught in the act
With a bottle of wine to seal the deal
A relationship not condoned by the church
As the man had no cloths on
And whose name will remain undisclosed
For the moment
Due to the sensitive nature of the accusatory story
We will take a snack break now. I need energy to continue
There is no reason to doubt this account
Since we can’t discount the sources
Scores of sources from all over town
Maybe one but who knows….maybe less
And the tortoise or turtle for his defense
Speaks no English and therefore it makes no sense
To take this to trial
In Florida as a matter of legal fact and consequence
It is still illegal to sleep with alligators or porcupines
Peculiar I guess in anyone’s mind
Well that’s just fine and justice from behind
But what about the poor other species?
Who will protect them from naked men?
And what if PETA finds out?
As for me, I’m teaching my turtles English
And keeping them safe in the house for good reason
Categories:
accusatory, adventure, fun, humorous, judgement,
Form:
Free verse
They held an election and
nobody voted
Politicians complained they
were grossly misquoted
Atlas shrugged
The world unplugged
Slipped violently way out of
kilter.
Tea cups tipped
Newscasters quipped
Walk don't run but please get
to the shelter.
Strategists tasked to come up
with a plan
Went back to the time when
the country began
Senators grumbled
Sarcastic mumbles
Accusatory fingers were
pointed
Who's to blame
What a shame
Blame the system, its alright
we're disjointed.
But another campaign will be
meticulously planned
Based in part on the sweat of
the poor working man
Campaign promise
Faith jaundiced
A silent prayer for a magical
elixir
Tradition rules
A ship of fools
Looks like spoils still belong to
the victor.
Categories:
accusatory, allegory
Form:
Couplet
You say you’ve always tried
to reach out to me,
even to the outer limits of your patience —
That lofty trust atmosphere
But, just how far
did you try to reach within
the deep, shadow spaces of your heart
And grab a shovel hold
of the buried fears darkly hidden —
Rarified confidence shaken
Unconditional love in need of complete certainty
is starry-eye missing
Rock solid trust has vanished into thin-air
Now our joyous stratosphere
has plummeted into the depths of despair
A little daily dawn, pillow pep talk,
and a lot of depressing, twilight tears
Sent me sky searching
on a caffeine yawn abstinence walk
Cloudy doubts
of a split mind
are asunder trying to blow in my ear —
A gloomy scent, whispering affair ...
pulse telling me of your new, nicotine needs
Suspicions sucked out of thin air,
giving you inadequacy thoughts of infidelity
A stranger friend knocking at my door,
puffing unkindly of me rude
when I’m not here
Poisonous breath cancerous to the core,
makes your loving attitude
vapor disappear
Anger shrouded in a mist veil of phantom promiscuity;
I gotta climb up the interrogation stairs,
thru the lip curse downpour of more accusatory weeps
Something has to whether change ...
should I fallen leave or sturdy remain?
Emotional peace is mountain altitude rare
It’s so hard to keep loving someone
who really don’t think you honestly care
Having plea feelings strapped to an electric chair;
zapped by constant jolts of distrust,
got this brokenhearted man grasping at thin air
Free-falling cry thru the storm clouds,
seems your rescue reach
shrinks a bit more with each dry smile
Categories:
accusatory, allusion, heartbroken, imagery, sad
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
narrative
Precious novelties, rare and unimpaired
reminder of events I'd love to share.
Recalling special trinkets in a hutch
for display only, labeled "Do Not Touch".
Awaiting finding of a misplaced key,
a new piece tempted curiosity.
Too precious to ignore, my small grandson
maneuvered carefully, warned by his mum.
Rejecting caution, which kids oft ignore
forgetful child just left it on the floor.
The next day, sister found it with her foot.
One piece, now three pieces, ruined, kaput.
Comes precious moment, happ'ning on my watch.
The brother faults his sister for the botch
who then returns accusatory blame.
Routine occurrence, 'companied by shame.
The moment builds, we search the house for glue.
Some chips still gone? Hurrah! we find a few.
Together, we three, talking as we work,
accountable, not acting like a jerk.
A precious moment in our history
when that collectible met surgery.
Four years later, standing tall, gath'ring dust
a priceless symbol, joint endeavor, plus.
written Jan. 2, 2013, revised June 29, 2017
Categories:
accusatory, brother, grandmother, hope, sister,
Form:
Narrative
Sometimes people manipulate circumstances point fingers;
And paint accusatory renderings of destruction;
Muted with the colors of intention to misdirect and discredit.
But when the dust settles the flags of honor can still be seen flying
And even though a house of love may be under siege;
There may be some still looking to acquire entrance;
Because there is often kindness;
And encouragement to believe in one’s self;
Even though the finger painters have told everyone they shouldn’t.
And some defenders may grow weary but continue on for reasons unknown
Yet dare to stress the importance of;
Never defecating where you eat;
Keep your friends close and your enemies even closer;
Because life can be a distorted reflection;
Of what seems larger than it really is.
Categories:
accusatory, socialmay,
Form:
Accusatory in your victory and contemplated insecurity, held down by your chains of the inconsistency of reality...after the walk and before the run you brought me darkness and took away my sun. No more fun and I'm undone picking up the pieces from your chivalry, no clarity and high strung, I always thought you, my love, would be the one.
Catching a train to flee from my pain, while you're perfectly insane, obviously the same....
No more holding hands or walks on the beach, you so far out of reach, and me constrained,
after hearing your speech, you have no right to complain or sit down continue to preach.
Inside my soul, that used to be whole, is out of control from your weakness..
my heart you stole, and I'm left sleepless and so tired I'm tearless, as my life unfolds incompleteness...
My misery is taking a toll, your sanity is full of black and my mouth is suddenly speechless.
I will no longer beg, and when you're full of regret, I will never forget your ability to avoid..Now I do hope to be less paranoid...your choice to neglect and you think you're smarter than Freud. Throw away our polaroids, now I'm selectively annoyed, I won't let you destroy my peace or reject and collect my willingness to find joy. You are just a little boy with no intellect.
Written By: Laura Loo
Date Written: December 2, 2015
Categories:
accusatory, abuse, break up, hurt,
Form:
Verse
Wow a party having a discourse. Now that's a very proud time isn't it? When passing a glass don't wave at a passing wavelength as hair can often disguise a taste. So be careful on the floor then. A lunatic with a rhombus shaped torso. Spinning shouting singing sailing ship shout. Boom. And all moves around and around. And waves wiring waking watching wreaths. And bowl. Idiosyncracies of oxen with beer. Playing marbles on the B508. Lincolnshire perhaps? Hmmmm. Vagrants don't gargle so don't spit in a bag. And when and if a triangular barge passes it is merely a sleeping bag for a tidal wave. Want not a favour from a mystic pie? That would be rather fantastic said a stone. Talismanic traditions taking trade trailers terrifically. Wow. The breathing of a potato plant portrayed in a custard sauce can be felt by even the smallest of the mice particularly when chewing cheese has bright red lipstick. Like a tyre surround. No greasy mud guard then. Cleanliness. Good. Wow. The semi multi layered auric field is most accustomed to working in a shroud. Whilst the peel of lemon spins and spins and spins. Accusatory atomic atoms atomize around areas. And now to peel a grape in a gown not a graph. Good. For tonight's egress is a plain which carries 890 buffalo jiggling to a nineteen sixty picture disc. Label not a lamb then. Query no question mark in a silky kimono. Broom broom broom. Sputter spat sitting situations. And now to post a lot of cutlery sets. Great. Xxxxx deviant deviation device xxxxx insectivorous Z g y r t q p Z
Categories:
accusatory, basketball,
Form:
Who will cry for the little boy,
Whose wails are heard resounding inside the man.
The man whose ever unhealing wounds are clothed in pride,
These mortal scars he wears beneath his flesh
To him are medals of honour
testimonies to his character
Though his visage is a prominent countenance of pride
He is ailed by a phantom of a little whelp
a wailing boy who stands at the threshold of time
ever hurling his lamentations to the man
with accusatory tones in little grievous voices
accursed day the mother's nipple he purged
with tiny bites and little nibbles his mute protests understood
and from his suckling lips his nourishment rid of with haste,
& left after the mother's guttural wails, a glutinous white trail of sweet aliment.
in persuit of new tastes, urged to crawl away from those who knew him
needing to quench his dry life with spirits and to lick his wounds in solitude
the boy's mistake his haste attitude to become a man
Ever and forever more so, suckling from a bottle's tip the said spirits, the malignant acids,
remedies to calm his demons, heart hardened and his will to live humbled, now with each sip he impugns his need to exist, sipping these pernicious aliments to tenderly nourish his grave and coax his days shorter.
bear not amiss the abhorant, dreaded days ere
when harsh lines marked the path he progressed,
in the keeping of a world with vile intentions this lone boy
with no loving hand to stroke a tender flame on his fragile emotions
accursed day when ignorancy ailed one such as he, to hate blindly
pride and arrogance his eventual downfall ever stirring him to ignorancy.
hate he suckled as nourishment from the nipples of a mother whose bosom coursed with old hate.
robbed of her maidenhood, violated absent care, then the spawn to disdain and loathe unfurl out of the desecrated womb, a gift from nemesis
woe ye the day he bid his own counsil unworthy to heed
ignorant of benevolence his creeping demise unfurl
heart unchanging ever frozen in the frame of the babe
Categories:
accusatory, childhood, depression, day, day,
Form:
Free verse
She was an Indian Barbie, long curly lash
And brown complexion. The hair was
Perfect, shiny black and she had on a small
Pink gown to cover her 36-24-36 body.
Last seen, she still had on her high heeled shoes.
Oh how my daughter cried, “Dolly, Dolly,
Where are you?” when she found out she left,
It on the basketball court’s grounds. She took
It along, against her mom’s frequent reminders,
When grandpa brought her with him for a walk.
She cried horribly, my wife mailed me. Tears
Rolling down her cheeks even as her mother
Scolds, tears not for the accusatory words
But for her Dolly who is gone. Gone away,
Lost and probably in another child’s hands.
My wife, with a guilt ridden grandpa’s idea,
Told her Dolly wasn’t lost after all. In fact
She was on her dolly way to dad now who
Works onboard a ship, sailing far, far away
So he can buy milk and nappies for small kids.
“Punta sya dun kasi lungkot si Daddy di ba?”
(She went there because Dad is lonely right?)
She asks in between sobs of her mom, who
Can only nod and kiss her on the forehead
And whisper a “Yes,” the whitest of white
Lies meant to comfort a grieving, sad child.
Fast forward to the time I talked to my child
On a long distance call, from a very public booth.
She asked me if Dolly was with me, forewarned,
I can only sigh a cheerful aye. “Talaga? tignan ko nga!”
(Oh yeah? Let me see her then!)
Of course she must have meant to talk to her.
I didn’t hesitate, all so suddenly I knew what to do,
Then and there I belted a falsetto, uncaring
Of the Island people around me, for in that one
Sparkling moment, I was talking to my child not as
A father but as a long lost friend who misses her.
“HAH! Helloooo Dolly, andyan ka sa barko ni Daddy?”
(Hello Dolly, are you there on Daddy’s ship?)
She asks me after my high pitched hello, asking
with such gasped longing, with such breathless relief,
with such childlike delight and innocence. Even as
Eavesdroppers wonder what harm befell my balls!
The rest of that dreamy conversation is lost to me now.
The wonder of her tone, her concern, her yearning for
Her doll is all that remains, of the father and daughter
Transcending bounds of love, blasting colors and
Rainbows to a gray span of reality, even for a while.
---Part 2 on my poem list please read too long to post
Categories:
accusatory, father, dad, me, lost,
Form:
Free verse
Excreted from the void and lost,
At last his consciousness clocked in,
While at a window licked with frost,
Which coyly seemed to beckon him.
The wagging of the front door bell’s
Accusatory silver tongue
Could not reverse the potent spell
Of splendors he’d been dropped among.
The faint pastels of rainbows and
the flattened hues of flowers
were no rivals to this fairyland’s
kaleidoscopic powers.
Red ropes of licorice dangled down,
impending like stalactites.
Swirled lollys looked like grinning clowns.
The bins poured out prismatic lights.
Clenching quarters in his mittens,
He walked between his private giants,
Impressed they knew a world so hidden,
Affirming thus his shrewd alliance.
Filling his hands to overflowing,
he grandly at the front unfurled
his swag. The bell salutes his going,
a king into a smiling world.
Categories:
accusatory, child, childhood, happiness, son,
Form:
Rhyme