Best Acid Test Poems
I might not be the perfect dream revealed or look anything close to my dream now but
dont judge me yet- am definitely it.
Why was I born a baby first and not an adult?
Please dont judge me too soon, time they say is the acid test for value.
Change is inevitable, the now might not give you much hope about me but-
Please dont judge me yet as the clock ticks know am also moving close to being revealed
It might seem impossible or too late my manifestation to you but dont write me off yet cos
am coming out,
Yes am down but the way up it's said is down, yes am out but greatness starts from inside
out, yes am weak but I have a greater strength -God is in me. Yes am poor but the gold and
silver are my Father's!
am just a todler with certain posiblity of maturing every passing day so, please dont judge
me yet because am definitely comming out!
Hush, my dear mother, say no more
(Shut up your criticizing, out the door)
I know you love me, want my best,
(You’re putting my temper to an acid test)
I’m trying Jenny Craig, I know I’ll win
(Your suggestions are tantamount to starvation sin!)
Hush, my dear mother, say no more.
Long for the tender tormenting touch of her slips, a vermillion vice of the abyssal depths that lay within the merest brush of her breath, a zephyr's caress that set aflame the parched arid landscapes of my wasteland as sighs hollow echoes whispered promises grew, the inferno of my longing raged, a maelstrom of need that threatened to consume all reason, all restraint in the swirling crimson vortex of those velvets, the boundaries of our recurrent reality grew tenuous, and the tyranny of the flesh held sway as the flexuous uncharted curves of your caress became the acid test of my resolve, dissolving the fragile, varnished veneer of self control, as the confinement of thy desires began to dissolve like gossamer under the scorching waxen sun of ardent, copious passion.
As we entwined, visceral privilege awoke, like hydras flourishing in some foresworn elixir, every casual respite yawned vacant, sucked into the vampiric vortices of intolerably testy discontent.
How provoking, this postponement of unbound reciprocity, tongue just grazing the tips of those plush velvet onyx lips, while catalyzing inveigling suspense
I am invisible but I extends through the corners of the world like smokes
Though, none can see me, but greatly me every one can feel
Like a burning fire I am, more
powerful than you can touch
Brighter than the luminous stars and the moon
Generating light like a sun in its
intensive radiation
Living in an extended chuppah of the living earth in perfection
I am the home of armour, sitting on a peg of swords
I give commands and I obey those
who command me in words
I give out joy, and also I give out acid test
I rise everyday in my glory from east to west
I speaks it out like a fire and I appears like a fire
More powerful and fierce beyond any barrier
My radiation is beyond what people can withstand
Once I appear everyday, darkness
cannot be found
I am the true mechanism for luxuries and pains
A beautiful tree everyone can climb for better rains
Appearing everywhere as I responds to all with my power
Giving the fruit for those that stand
upon my tower
Taking the hands of those that extend in the early morn
Hearing the voice of those that are in the pit and those that griefly mourn
No one can be like me; I am the true
superhuman being
Living at heaven, living on earth; surpassing every being
The powerful boulder on which
everyone can lean
I am the true God that everyone can
feel but can never be seen.
Get ready for a challenge. Why?
'cause poetry and dares make me high!
So—you think you’re the best?
I bet you think “I’m a poet and didn’t know it”
will pass my acid test.
I gotta pause right here and yell—
in your face—“L O L”!
Gimme your best sonnet.
I may slap a D-minus on it.
Wait’ll you see mine.
They’re smooth and oh-so-fine.
Toss me a triolet.
Think I’m gonna be wowed with your wit?
I’ll go on and betcha
mine’s gonna be bettah.
Gimme your most rousing rondeau.
I may be your worst foe,
'cause I already know
yours won’t come close
to mine. Think I’m verbose,
don’tcha? Well, I gotta admit
as in my rocker I sit
writin’ this invite to a poetry duel,
never thought I’d have the fuel
to be so crass and cruel
as to dis any fellow poet.
Still, I CHALLENGE YOU. Don’t blow it!
May 16, 2018, entered in Nick Trim's 8 Mile Style Rap Contest
Placed 8th (of 10)
April 8, 2019, entered in Anthony Slausin's Your Amphetamine Contest
Feelings of my heart, pouring like a foss
To the queen goddess of Pothos and Himeros
Before her alluring reflection I’m nak’d
My bones, flesh consum’d and spirit possess’d
With a fuddled heart fallen out of ease
Drunk of love like palm wine to the lees.
Omosi, pretty woman, daughter of Anwu
Me, none of the women of all climes do
Make sojourn ten seas and vales by heart
In one day and yet not a single step far,
The mystery of your nature to know
If beauty a mask worn and love a shadow.
What’s this desire for her that’s prisoned me
That bitter herbs turned sweet honey?
Her whisper is music divine that diminishes
A host of Angels echoing Gloria in Excelsis;
Her embrace’s elixir for life’s incubuses
And I’d forget my worries in her embraces.
Sweet love, sweet sweet love making
The body swings, the heart ever longing
To eat of her forbidden fruit and so
Be drown in sensation as deep as the Congo
That ever more takes freedom and innocence
From me and leaves a heavy heart thence.
Is’t by fate my heart be ever restless
For her? Or predestined to be I guess.
Though beauty fleets, love an illusion pass
And the acid test of time makes her carcass
She’ll rouse my heart and my manhood too
To refute the norm that makes a taboo.
She’s my heart made to be ever forlorn
To our love that’s worn a crown of thorn
By them who never know or can tell
That the pangs of being denied love is hell
With consuming regret, desire and endless sigh
And that’s all there’s, nothing else beside!
Genuine love is loveless
Whereof the heart is beclouded
With mystic, monastic and metaphysical aura
Only minds as deep as the Congo river can contain.
'Tis when fair love subsist
That spiritual, ethical and philosophical
Transcend all mundane forms and allures
That are subject to the acid test of time and change.
'Tis to disdain honeycombs
To find relish in bitter herbs is rare
And have wants and longings lay in catacombs
Beside the sweet amusing bed of roses it is but to dare.
'Tis to know what it is
Love dwells in spirit and not physique
And its form is literal but not imaginative
And its essence not naive but rather philosophical!
when another (anointed as lady lucky)
resident renter bequeathed her bed
prior to that good samaritan deed thyself and spouse
slept on the floor like dogs dead
tired from another day acclimatizing ourselves,
especially when tummies got well fed
and grudging adjustment per lying supine upon the carpet
did upon arising found aches and pains from head
to toes, yet financial shortcomings disallowed this Jed
eye wannabe to defer attending domestic chores,
cuz ma whole body felt like a Led
Zeppelin, and matter of fact oft times,
thy body electric,
though lacked no evidence of disease NED
for short, I near felt a need to relearn basic motor skills,
gingerly, and eagerly reached for
performance enhancing drug i.e. PED
which coded identification
exemplified the a rich color of red
this (and other) prescription medication
(about a half dozen total found me to sleep akin to a Ted
dee bear, many instances of snoring
thine wife claimed emanated –
probably no more than when we wed
if memory serves me correctly
twenty plus years a husband aye attest
and find peace of body, mind and spirit
most exuberant and best
cherished, when hen pecking wife (yup, this husband
got pecking, pock, puck size marks
to vouchsafe his sworn statement)
some visible on my slightly flabby and hairless chest
and if traced with a ball point pen,
the shape loosely resembles mount Everest
with evidence of what appears to be erosion,
but actually evidence of wifely cannibalism –
viz zit on par as with an unwanted guest
which at first found this pop (sic) hull
averse to share the same firm mattress lest
she arise like a flesh eating zombie
during the wee hours of the morning and taking nest
ling to another level, whereby teeth
and scratch marks sure testament asper a pest
stiff ferrous mate, this husband would sooner bid adieu,
letting fate guide terrestrial quest
that might incorporate undergoing
the electric kool aid acid test
perhaps buffeting this corporeal essence north west
or maybe the unforeseen sojourn
would spirit thyself to a distant alien nation
one where each day of soundness of mental, physical
and spiritual growth will be reason enough
to celebrate with élan and zest.
pioneer esprit de corps front tier brisk.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Open arms and clenched raised fists raise
masquerade diametrically opposed to rodomontade sways
spewing threatening sacred constitution
expounding vaunted values déclassé 1968 degreed phase
Wharton alumni now on warpath to raze
via his bull dozing wreaks havoc on coven daze
ruining complex edifice
usurped storied super power craze
thru humiliation, liquidation of dredging bays
* * * * * * * * * * * *
and justification (viewed thru his warped vision)
scotching inalienable rights reducing to rubble bedrock division
with remainder of flinty stones,
and unlovely bones a wasteland fission
absent without a trace any evidence of Halcyon days,
which abomination, decimation, and gangrenous lesion
joie de vivre, when martial law decree deep incision
heil come rolled up (frightfully with egregious decision.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
the venomous, tenebrous, and rancorous white house
Head honcho viz prez) inside checkered hookahs lighting
one end per slow burn as hoary smoke emanates
in shape of Taj Mahal, then harmless as Mickey mouse
he iz well singed, seared, and scalded like a cook grouse
(yet of course still alive) sent to further douse
him into initiation righting tis basic human coup laid louse.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Acid test whereby he will be sold to Vladimir Putin for bunk
her hilled feather bedding rubles on the dollar, where clunk
key interim held up by cadre of well comb pence dunk
key Kong sated marionettes, which will carry fleshy lunk
dirty deeds done dirt cheap of this unmentionable monk
key villainous uber trumpeter, scabrous, recalcitrant querulous punk!
* * * * * * * * * * * *
keep your finger and toes crossed for the next four years
aware that such laughable ruse and superstitious scares
not one impish bot of fate, but more so gives false cheers.
Only time will tell the outcome of this rhyme,
Whether it will succeed in the nick of time.
So better safe than sorry, as they say,
A good beginning makes a good ending, I pray.
I’ll write a little bit of this and a little bit of that,
All fingers and thumbs as I lay down my hat,
Better safe than sorry - the acid test,
I’m as busy as a bee and I’ll give it my best.
If the poems voted up I’ll be as pleased as punch,
Or back to basics because there’s no free lunch.
Between you, me and the bedpost I’m hoping for the best,
That it proves head and shoulders above the rest.
With luck it reaches the four corners of the Earth,
For I’ll give my right arm for some literacy worth.
I dream that the votes might go through the roof,
That I’m not hung out to dry as a poetic spoof.
I’m not asking the Earth and it could just be pot luck,
Whether this is a raving success or as dead as a duck.
Will this win an award? Yeah, in your dreams!
This could be the end of the line, it seems.
Writing this poem’s not all sweetness and light!
It’s a long shot trying to get this right.
Just have to keep my pants on, cross my fingers and all,
That it takes the world by storm and I’m not in free fall.
I can only hope I knock it out of the park,
That it’s not just a stab in the dark.
Last be not least let me bend your ear,
For this opportunity doesn’t knock twice I fear.
I’ll leave you with something to chew on my friend,
It isn’t rocket science, we all get there in the end.
It might be a white knuckle ride at times,
But you can leave your mark with a poetic rhyme.
Have we had an experience?
Definitely while there’s life
We are prone to something,
To someone anywhere
Something vulnerable and unforgettable
The most delicate time
Is when we are young, full of energy
And beauty exudes like diamond.
Though not ready as yet
We are really a prawn at prone
It does not matter even age
Extinction stops the chance
At every dawn, falling in love is just one
It is vulnerable as an open pore
Oh, getting passionately in love
Carries the burden of risk to gamble.
However, we tend to make it an excuse
Offer a solution, a medicine
An ultimate remedy maybe a marriage
But the vow is an acid test
And goes with the time
If we can make a turn around to endure
Vulnerability is sweet, the way to live!
Acid Test
Each step of mine for me is an acid test
One step I take forward they come and ask my caste
Two steps backward I run
And reach to the skirt of a beautiful village
With all the curiosities in their eyes men and women
Like a platoon of army they surround me
And inquire the sect along with my religion
Disheartened I walk
And unintentionally cross into a district
There I meet on a down town street
A wave of crowd, a pack of wolves
A gang of touts and a hive of bees
Before I take my breath in
I am grilled and asked quite fast the place of my origin
Bitterly I tell them what sweet sound holds my real name
They suspect and I have no doubt
The colour of my eye balls gives them goose bums
So I quietly tell them the root of my clan
They appear and I see clearly
The hint they give is clear that they are not glad
Disgusted I feel and before I decide to move
I yell I shout
And tell you to tell them
I am also from the same race of you, man!
Anchors Aweigh...Destination Unknown
Weather beaten cap'n,
and watertight bewitched craft
time tested since maiden voyage
(circumnavigating the globe
back in the day
of my youth),
I ranked tough as a pitbull,
when severely pitted
against raw elements
of swiftly tailored,
harried stylish nature
against leathery faced
reptilian skin, hard drinking
(actually as corked
poetic convenience - vermouth
arbitrary bottle of choice
if for no other reason,
than to rhyme
with the above line),
and tobacco spitting, while
colorfully swearing as an uncouth
Furies (of Agamemnon) fighting (tooth
and nail) Pirate,
where rickets, scurvy,
and thrice unconscious,
currently ample proof
could not forsooth
bring me to
Davy Jones's locker,
cuz I never wanna
get relegated to an underwater
whale schooled booth,
this raconteur can nonchalantly,
glibly, and blithely attest,
with braggadocio, despite
no warm welcome will
ever greet mine tinnitus
pained ears, I can plainly
imagine acrimonious retort
upon me behest
his far more'n lifetime
bobbing (like a sponge)
buoyed atop crest
longing e'en for
(carping, caviling, hen pecking,
or shrewish) wife,
and loving family
forsaken, sans living
antisocial upon briny deep divest
many opportunities to
experience wedded, webbed
and whirled bliss,
and hence for everest
as bachelor, especially
at present junction
of twilight years,
my crude manners
makes foreign (for
an) ill suited guest
boot e'en if yours truly
became inured to life on land,
(as a "FAKE" father figure
feathering his nest
my coarse behavior, as basic
electric koolaid acid test
would force even
the most tolerant proprietor,
perhaps a bank
manager at Univest
would utter VAMOOSE,
e'en if eye covered up
my heavily pierced,
and tattooed breast.
Eldest daughter – I Praise
Twenty two years ago
December twenty second,
two thousand eighteen
"star student" born
this papa (and most
likely thee birth mother)
initially felt ecstatic,
dramatic (yes frenetic),
and careworn
as freshly minted parents,
but gifted with a daughter,
whose existence far
more precious
than any Earthborn
rare widgets, gewgaws,
gems, et cetera, despite
evoking unsolicited,
unpleasant, and
unmanageable forlorn
communication "dirt poor"
living (at least ten years
of wretchedness at 1148
Greentree Lane) unable
to toot your horn,
cuz unbearable, undesirable,
unforgettable, et cetera,
and manifold challenged ,
when beloved Shana
Punim evinced inborn
developmental delay,
(which severe electric
koolaid acid test
patience of this father),
much more difficult
than playing krummhorn,
now after tendering the trials
and tribulations, an
amalgamation of
poignant affects,
whereat your
permanent presence...
(must never NOT precede mine),
cuz..., I would definitely mourn,
your absence, thus felt the timely
opportunity to dash off
a birthday poem to you
in tandem with sharing,
(while comfortably numb
and figuratively licking war
torn psychological wombs) - torn
and ripped, queued,
peppered natty psyche
pockmarked with scorn
from self, (and those lives,
this dada immediately
impacted) particularly
your person roar'n
with cumulative anger toward
this insightful fellow,
(who claims to know
what thee feel toward me),
especially when ****
hours of valuable
time, now caught
(say, eh...approximately, fraught
upon the half life of rare Earth
element Eden), not
just strictly naught
heard thru the grapevine,
but forcing Math (hew)
analysis, via meditation, poetry
writing therapy, et cetera.
Hence...I apologize,
asper unasked for pain wrought
thee, sans being unemployed,
demeaning "mother Abby,"
bumbling, horrid house
keeper (Hagrid himself,
would turn down invitation),
plus Facebook fiasco,
imbroglio, and locomotive -
complicit in behavior
comparable to pedophile,
yet please let me conclude
by admitting total lack
of wherewithal.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR DAUGHTER!
Limerick crochetes : Once a Bull-Frog of a French Syndic
Part One
Once a Bull-Frog of a French Syndic
Croaked Janitress Porc-U-Pine music
She found much in common
With Janitress-Husband
They sucked Co-Proprietors' Council sick
Now Janitress had much lard to spare
Front back cheeks belly thighs but spare hair
So Bull-Frog humped her back
To keep her hair intact
Bull-Frog ate Porc-U-Pine falling hair
Now Co-Proprietors' presidents
Saved lots of hair-wilting rodents
Pipes stuffed with hairs pubic
Made proprietors sick
Porc-U-Pine made pubic wig from rodents
Yet Porc-U-Pine wailed all day and night
" How am I to keep flying my kite ?
Flying saucers see nought
On my scalp lives no thought ! "
Appealed to Town Hall Caïd for more might
" Porc-U-Pine, Dear, your sting I like best !
Can you this Injun now put to rest ? "
" Yes, Sir ! You know how well
Your words make my lard swell !
I'll put this Ol' Bum on acid test ! "
" I'll ask Syndic Bull-Frog to puff hard
Through his WC pipe under board
I'll stuff hoards of pubic hair
Plus more from rodents' lair
To force Ol' Bum to swim in building's turd ! "
" Now, My Darling Porc-U-Pine ! How nice
To know you and I share the same vice
Ask Mason Brother Police
To salute you, as-you-please
Kiss your cheeks up or under likewise ! "
Bull-Frog croaked : " She's under my orders !
No way I'll be made to suckle udders !
Tell the Lord President
I'm thick as she's cement
Nothing less than top Republic's honours ! "
© T. Wignesan - Paris, December 18, 2018