Best Baddies Poems
Groot Limericks
Groot is an alien tree being
So tall you just cannot miss him
He obsorbed a bomb blast
Protecting friends from fall fast
And regrown in a pot from one limb
Groot would only say one word
Racoon understood what he heard
Best friends they did stay
Kept baddies at bay
Together both stood undeterred
Groot the loveable tree cutie
Likes to dance in the movie
His moves are so smooth
A dance partner to choose
King of the space disco boogie
09.10.20
Categories:
baddies, character,
Form:
Limerick
Wonder Woman, Wolverine,
fight the baddies, make a scene.
Superman can fly up high,
saves us from a falling sky.
Aquaman swims under water
where he rescued someone’s daughter.
Batman has the best high tech
and leaves the villains in a wreck.
The Hulk is all about the smash;
when he’s done they look like trash.
The web that Spiderman can sling,
catches thieves and helps him swing.
Fantastic Four can do a lot,
it makes for an exciting plot.
Catwoman has a vengeful side,
that causes prey to run and hide.
but all these heroes carry on,
even when their luck is gone,
not because they like the fun;
it is their passion to get things done.
Categories:
baddies, inspirational,
Form:
Rhyme
Buck was a tough man
very fast with his gun
always just one step
ahead of the law
He rode from town to town
never staying all that long
because as soon as word got out
the young gunslingers would come
Now Buck was not a man
to go looking for trouble
but it seemed that some how
it was his middle name
Really all he wanted to do
was marry his sweetheart
and raise a fine family
to live peacefully with them
He had a small hideaway
high up in the Rockies
a simple log cabin
where he could hole up
Not the place to take a bride
far too isolated and bare
talking to Betty he asked her
to purchase some land
Make it down in lush valley
he told her, we can raise cattle
a few horses to start a herd
maybe some hens and geese for eggs
Betty found a prime piece of land
with a cool bubbling spring
trees to shelter and give shade
sweet green grass to feed them all
Buck and Betty got married at last
soon built a fine house and barn
with a corral and stables
yet all too soon their bliss shattered
Young gunslingers heard where he was
dropping by to chance their luck
ending up in wooden coffins
because Buck was real fast
Until one day the townspeople
rode out to see Buck
they wanted him to be their sheriff
to protect them from the bandits
Buck agreed to wear the badge
and rid the town of the bad guys
each day he patrolled the territory
many baddies he lay to rest
Yet he felt he had no real peace
that his life was on borrowed time
he wanted to live his life quietly
tending to family and his ranch
This seemed a wistful thought
as still yet more gunslingers came
one day he knew he'd meet a faster gun
and end his life face down in dirt
One day while build a nursery he got
Betty to chop while he held the logs
well Betty missed and got his fingers
cutting them clean off only stumps left
It was his gun hand that was hurt
soon the word went around
the young guns stopped coming
no sport for them now
Buck finally got his dream
and lived to a ripe old age
siring five fine children
and many grandchildren
Against all the odds
he died quietly in bed
his last words to Betty were
"That was the best miss you ever made"
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Categories:
baddies,
Form:
Epic
"50 Words for Poe: Posthumous"
Moody dark man haunted mind
Lovecraft sleeps awake eyes open wide
while he writes Her, she possesses he, his lovely succubus Monster merrily
a deep embrace into his dreams spectral posthumous bride becomes her
Lovecraft sleeps awake eyes open wide
wild raging fever in his blood is She
a deep embrace into his dreams spectral posthumous bride becomes her
Dark Danvers dances naked laughing deliciously in the fire with he
Wild raging fever in his blood is She
his very own black-hearted soul sucking Calypso Nightmare Queen
Dark Danvers dances naked laughing deliciously in the fire with he
Beelzebub plays the fiddle burns it up so devilishly
His very own black-hearted soul sucking Calypso Nightmare Queen
penetrates his Lovecraft Church 'N Steeple mercilessly
Beelzebub plays the black organ inside he, burns it up so devilishly
Lovecraft is no Poe is he, now possessed by spectral posthumous bride
She becomes his poetry
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bf00KI2MEGg "The Ubiquitous Mr. Lovegrove"
The Dead Can Dance, Album:Into the Labyrinth
“In his house at R'lyeh, dead Cthulu waits dreaming” H.P. Lovecraft
"Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again." Du Maurier
1.
Lovecraft
https://www.biography.com/people/hp-lovecraft-40102
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/H._P._Lovecraft
2.
Du Maurier
“Rebecca”
https://www.theguardian.com/books/2014/oct/31/mrs-danvers-rebecca-daphne-du-maurier-baddies-books
Categories:
baddies, dark, gothic, imagery, lust,
Form:
Pantoum
Make a noise!
What?
Something, anything that's going to get them movin'.
What?
The mouths.
Mouthe's huh?
The story is told with the mouth.
So is the ******.
Not really, well anything can tell you anything more than that! But this is starting in a tiny village next to Wimbly's Cafe where they serve Italian food Ala carte.
They didn't want to be fancy, these where in-breeders.
No such thing...
They didn't like action unless it was uncensored and back wood.
So?
It was all a dream man!
So.
So be outspoken and move on! Those are baddies! They are bridgeable gaps! Something from an invisible makeshift mah!
Categories:
baddies, analogy, autumn, cheer up,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Before I'm another day older,
I'm gonna get shot in the shoulder.
In movies and shows,
the protagonist knows,
it's how to get Hilda and hold her.
From Gene Autry to Scully and Mulder,
the good guys aren't turned on by gold, or
political power:
come the end of the hour,
they want to get shot in the shoulder.
In Buffalo, Boise or Boulder,
each player, or stacker or folder
will promise you flat
if you wear a white hat,
you're gonna get shot in the shoulder.
The girl may be Gertrude or Golda:
you're ready to melt her and mold her?
The best thing to do
when the baddies ride through,
is get yourself shot in the shoulder.
There's no formula stricter or colder:
the eye of the movie beholder
requires of the star,
when he enters that bar,
that he has to get shot in the shoulder.
When I met Grace Kelly, I told her
(or let's say I gently cajoled her):
"if you're leaving at noon,
then I don't need a wound!"
But I bled. That's right, lead. In the shoulder!
Categories:
baddies, humorous,
Form:
Rhyme
Contrary to what I've been recently spouting
You can sometimes actually see this guy frowning
No one's always happy
Sometimes I can be ratty
Keep the baddies at bay by constantly clowning
© Jack Ellison 2015
Categories:
baddies, happiness,
Form:
Limerick
There was a laser beam reflection
Of the sun upon his shield.
The central silver star was blinding!
To see, the enemies had to yield.
Then he stood before them.
He was mighty. He was strong!
His fellow Marvel Heroes joined
To help him right the wrong.
With all the baddies locked up tight,
His shield hung on the wall.
It had striking rings of red and silver
And was surprisingly quite small.
What made his shield unique,
And impressive to any boy,
Was it's threefold combination
Of Vibranium Metal Alloy.
This shield is indestructible!
A protection and a weapon.
It's the key to Captain America's success
When the villains start to threaten.
Captain America's shield
Though target-like it appears,
Will feature on in marvelous Marvel's
And will amaze for years and years!
Written 11th July 2022
For the "Captain America's Shield" contest
Sponsor: Robert James Liguori
Categories:
baddies, hero,
Form:
Rhyme
Years ago when the kids were young
A plan of action in my mind began
They ran around playing children's games
Peace of mine was never the same
When the boys dressed up they looked real cute
Fighting baddies they were in hot pursuit
Many months I put up with this
The noise, the screaming, tearing at my bliss
Then came the day all hell broke loose
No more their father could be a woose
Leonardo, Michelangelo were the first to be shelled
Raphael and Donatello were next to be felled
Once simmered with herbs and beautiful leek hoops
Teenage Ninjas, turned into Turtle Soup
Many hours of quietness in tranquillity followed
Whilst bowls of Manhattan Soup were delightfully swallowed
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/humour-2.php
Categories:
baddies, childhood, father, funny
Form:
Couplet
This is a fictional conversation between a fictional young Nazi and a fictional young Jew (I made them up entirely, they are not characters from one of the holocaust books I've read); both of whom share the same sentiments to the point of the following lines being interchangeable. That is, either of them could have said any of it, because they both felt it, stuck in the concentration camp. I know this would probably not describe most Nazis, but I just wondered if perhaps there were some who felt like prisoners pushed into their roles, who didn't want to be the baddies, and who didn't want to be there any more than their victims did. I wondered, what would it sound like if they could relate to each other? This is what I came up with.
____________________________________________________
"What in the hell are we doing here?"
"I don't know!" He replied with a tear.
"I'm here against my will, but I follow orders still."
"God help me! I obey out of fear."
~~~
"Back at home, Mom wanted me to stay,
but this awful place tore me away."
"Working fills me with dread; sometimes wish I were dead."
"Will me make it out alive one day?"
~~~
As a human, he looked in my eye.
Our mutual pain caused us to cry.
"When times get real bad, I miss my Mom and Dad."
Trying to smile, he said-- "So do I."
~~~
He's set up to be my enemy,
but we both really long to be free.
Through it all, in the end: I considered him-- Friend.
That'd stop wars-- if everyone would be.
Categories:
baddies, emotions, friend, holocaust, horror,
Form:
Limerick
Born in a perennial sand storm
Baddies tweet humble extremism
The dove of peace shot down
The white flag glowing crimson
The sand blinds red eyes to the truth
Chronically digging for the anointed oil beneath
To evoke spirituality atop a sharp spear
To mimic the men in drench coats we fear
Compassion as desolate as their desert home
As black and volatile as crude oil aflame
Void of love, confusion like blank dice
Bitter as coarse salt in the Dead sea
Thirsty for knowledge in the sandy ice
Zigzagging targets like tearful bull’s eye
Wink on a weaponised Quran
Chaos high on a flipped brain
An agenda dripping bloody ink
Advancing like an armoured tank
The landscape flattened to Arabia
The exorcist resurrected Hitler
And his offspring seek to avenge
Father and farther into the stone age
Categories:
baddies, fear,
Form:
Rhyme
THE PUNISHER
Caught in a war
His miss duty
A Marine serving his country
A husband and father first
Yes he fought over seas for this AMERICA
Frank Cashtiglione
Also known as now
A tour of duty in Vietnam
One time off, off duty
When home to visit
The wife and children
While on a picnic in the park
They witness a mob killing
The mob came after, and killed Frank's wife and children
Frank Castle now a vigilante
sort of a negative hero
Only killing the baddies...
Captain in the Marines
A one man killing machine
Also a member of CIA
Now stationed as a citizen
A private ordinary citizen
Now out to git REVENGE
So every mobster, gangster, bad politician, evil doer
Killer or just a Bad person
No mercy, no gain
just a whole lotta pain
Better watch out and if you think you wanna do wrong and your unsure
Repenting won't help cause your under the cross hairs of .......
the
PUNISHER
11/17/17
by James Edward Lee Sr.
Categories:
baddies, anti bullying, caregiving, endurance,
Form:
Heroic Couplet
The Mare and I
Georgia on my mind, I remember a song the sweetness of America,
I have never been there but once I was in Huston, Texas, my ship
was there for repairs. I rented a car and drove deep into
the countryside which was hot and dry Just like in a western movie,
I stopped at a dud farm and they gave an old mare to ride.
When tired of riding the mare and I walked side by side along dusty
tracks and tumbleweeds and I thought of Indians who lived here
and left no history behind other than baddies in western movies.
Both the mare and I knew while there might be historic changes and
upheaval, human nature remains the same; it is about war and peace,
love, hate and jealousy...and finally death. But not quite that, above
all there is dignity and respect for life. Texas has a big sun and it was
setting. “Home on the ranch” a song remembered. Time to get back
to the ocean and admire the dolphins and listen to their song.
Categories:
baddies, autumn, farewell, friendship, ,
Form:
Sonnet
I wonder if God had a Facebook account
what sort of things that he might post,
some selfies, maybe of him and his son,
and his other old friend, Holy Ghost.
His favourite music he'd put there to share
such as Handel's 'Messiah' or 'Te Deum',
While he lolls about sat in his favourite throne
and gets all of his Angels to play 'em.
His followers, there would be millions of them
but all the same none of them he would miss,
though it is safe to say he's unfriended Old Nick
and crossed him off his Christmas card list.
His family videos would be thin on the ground,
for the first billion years at least,
till his son came along and fed crowds thousands strong
now, that guy, he sure puts on a feast.
His life was cut short and they all must have thought
that was it, but he proved them all wrong,
three days dead with the baddies but was rescued by daddy
which was cool, 'coz he knew all along.
And being all knowing, his I.T skills showing,
Facebook he would easily master,
but Millennia pass, he stares at the hourglass
and wishes that his Broadband was faster.
Categories:
baddies, god, technology,
Form:
Rhyme
Mary Six Pack Pistols staggers through time portals drunk
Pretending to be a priest but she is not a mister or a sister
To the old west saloon through double doors she glides
Drunker than a nun on steroids swinging rosaries from her side
Into a smoke filled room in rusty spurs and fake mustache
Presenting herself as a monsignor from another time and place
Cowboy boots caked in mud with love she blesses them
Introducing her two guns from underneath a long black dress
It is a curtain, a robe, a nun inside a habit for blasting baddies
There must be a shower outside which indicates a storm
The spittoon in the corner of the room needs emptying
She feels the weight of outlaws in her midst
From here to there the crowd looks innocent
But Padre knows better so shoots them all to death
To kingdom come and back again through the chest
Through time corridors we suspect they must be dust
Mary Six Pack says a prayer and drinks some holy water
From a whiskey bottle in another time dimension soaking wet
Then returns from there to here less sober and less blessed
Charged with a misdemeanor for impersonating a monsignor
Categories:
baddies, conflict, death, murder, sin,
Form:
Cowboy Poetry