Best Badgered Poems
Brassy Barry’s boastful bumbling Brana Bull
Badgered Billy’s bashful buffoonish Baboon
Into baking a boisterous Blackberry Bisque
Beyond bunking, Barry’s brave babysitter
boldly bellowed brashly.
Bonafide bamboozlement boasted Brana Bull’s bed buddies.
Beyond bothersome boneheads, Billy Baboon’s buzzards bawled
Baboon’s beautiful baked bonne bouch betwixed buddies and beasts
beautifully, bumping boastful Brassy Barry’s beliefs, which bumbled
on beyond the brink of believability boulder.
Growing Up Down South
The southern town where I grew up was just like all the rest.
Where cousins played and moms dismayed and dads knew what was best.
Where you were sometimes badgered for the color of your skin.
But no one could remember why it all began.
My school was once a residence. The bus ride took an hour.
The teachers always made us mind. They had parental given power.
My food was cooked by mom or dad, whoever was at home.
But we all sat down together. We had an eight party phone.
I always had a dog or two. We lived between towns.
People would drive out half the way to drop their puppies down.
We had a single bathroom, but there never was a line.
There were however disagreements during evening TV time.
I played outside most every day and fought in many battles.
I hunted snakes deep in the woods hoping for a rattle.
The woods had squirrel and rabbit that tasted great to me.
In summer we ran trot lines, a nighttime river mystery.
On Friday I would go help at my grandparents' store.
A little work and lots of fun with candy and ice cream galore.
Memories are all I have left, but I do not dismay.
For if you have a family, you make precious memories every day.
Slowly,
The air fills with blue, and the greens catch fire
The hammerlight of Summer
With little mouse-steps,
Steals off into apricity.
I divide my days
Between wine and responsibilities
As a child divides his
Between play and obedience.
The time itself, at its best,
Is wine to me,
Full of light and flavors
Vying for my attention.
The aptly named Sept/ember
Ignites itself against the skies;
Sets my soul asmolder
The inspiration I have begged and badgered
To arrive, does so at last
By its own rule, on its own clock
In the deep of the night
While I should be asleep.
I awake,
Dreams close behind my shoulder,
And find myself at this crossroads,
Inexorably older.
I once owned a uniform that shone in pride
The polished brass, creases and lines
An army of friends and civilian respect
I marched upon every street, placed every laureate
The glowing admiration, the tireless market
Of gazing faces that sung even to the heartless
Badgered by memories that I couldn’t forget
Now withered and worn the years of regret
My mental battle the suffering toll of silence
No words I could mouth about the raw entirety
Flashbacks of those wars supplying me
But I sit a cluster of before
My battlefield a daily occurrence of aimlessly wandering
In routine emergence
of seeking cigarette butts and borrowing more time and beer
To drown out the battle none but mine could hear
I clamber from bush broken sunlight, coughing up
The empty sobriety of reality
Just a used device a human resource
Hoodwinked and lead noose in ignorant obligation
A never-ending instigation from mind emancipation
From this dumb founded degree of humiliation
Drunken laughter upon this man once bold
Pissing on the soul, and soles of my ragged boots I couldn’t maintain or even hold
Completely neglected by all I did serve
Now served by a starvational solitude
A face that none could remember, a shadow of my youth
Just aloof, wandering every day until my feet give up from the holes in my boots
Until I drop dead like the rest of the ‘glorious dead’
Should have been left with my rifle on a battlefield proper
Something my mind could accept, something I would now offer.
And who would care and would begin to wonder
Who these men were and why in such slumber
After all I am just a homeless soldier.
Happy. Genial. Merry. Jolly
Blottoed, blasted, etched and blitzed
Mellow, foggy, hazy, squiffy
Tipsy. Tiddly. Brahms and Liszt
Dazed, zombied, tanked-up, trollied
Ganted, gubbed, guttered
Bladdered, blathered, leathered, plastered,
Sozzled, sloshed, scuttered
Hammered, battered, caned, mangled
Spannered, mullered. Half-cut, lashed
Twisted, warped, slammed, wasted
Wrecked, ruined. Munted, trashed
Liquified, marinated, juiced, sauced,
Steamed, pickled, fried
Cabbaged, mashed, cooked, baked
Boiled, stewed. Pie-eyed
Stinking. Howling. Pole-axed, floored
Under the influence. Off one's woo
Steampigged, badgered, ratted, goosed,
Clobbered. Lairy. Boogaloo
3 sheets to the wind. Away with the fairies
Under the table. Tight as a tick.
Ankled, wellied, trousered, legless,
Bevvied, swizzled, pot-sick.
One over the eight. Out nibbling the grape.
Rosy. Rummy. Poggled.
Jober as a sudge. Laughing at the carpet.
Seeing double. Boggled.
Lubricated, oiled, pixilated, ploughed
Intoxicated, inebriated. On the grog
Wobbly, jungled, off to the races
Lit up, shot down. Cocked as a log
As a lord, as a piper, as a fiddler, as a poet,
As a newt, as a monkey, as a skunk
As a sailor, as a mouse, as a pig, as a fart
Muddled. Fuddled. Or just plain drunk
Words and experiences, many of us share
And I'm sure there's a few that I've missed
But while some get "tired and emotional"
I just prefer to get…
You have been persecuted.
You have been oppressed and depressed,
Wronged and aggrieved, even violated,
And for what?
Because of gender,
Because your body lacks a certain appendage,
Your chest is more pronounced, or your voice more pleasant?
You have been slighted.
You have been affronted and blasphemed against,
Insulted and abused, your rights neglected
And why?
Because of your orientation,
Because you chose to love another man,
You’re not attracted to the same thing that men like me are?
I know you hear me,
Because we all have been disregarded.
Why have you been dismissed?
Punished and censored,
Rebuked and cast aside, sometimes battered,
Ask the world why?
Because of the color of your skin,
Because your tan does not match that of another,
Your lips are fuller and your hair has more texture.
You have been shunned.
You have been ostracized and badgered daily,
Bullyragged and junked, even tainted,
And for what?
Because of your religion,
Because you have faith in God,
You say grace or pray five times each day?
Hear me NOW!
You have been besmirched and blemished
Shackled and shattered
Crucified and cursed
But why?
Why?
Because you must persevere
You must triumph and persist
You must overcome and conquer, even rejoice
And for what?
So that the next man who loves another man
Or the next woman who feels unequal
Child that feels different
Or for the next man’s whose faith becomes fragile
For them.
For these people we suffer
We take their burden
So tomorrow they can walk with their heads high above adversity.
For their children.
So their children will know not of the experiences of these hardships.
Today we brave the senseless hatred,
Tomorrow we smile
As the next generation finds a love we were able to receive.
Today we must not judge so that tomorrow they will not judge us.
We will not be angry at those who cannot understand us,
Instead we show pity.
PITY!
We pity them,
Their incapacity to open their minds and welcome anyone who differs from them.
Today we live this day
Today we wear the garbs of misfortune
Today we live so tomorrow will not live today over
Today
TODAY!!
Annoyances
One of the first things to go is that
never appreciated tactile proficiency.
The ability to find the car keys in an
overstuffed bag. Close your eyes. Tell
me if it’s a raisin or a kumquat.
Tying my shoes is not so troublesome
as is the re-tying of them. I’m back to
being the kid whose shoe laces untie
themselves. Decaffeinated coffee sets
me on edge. So does going to a steak
house and ordering chicken. The worm
in the Tequila bottle. The have a
nice day sign at the entrance to the
rehab. People with “Bluetooth”
thingies stuck in their ears trouble
me. Time was the guy waving his
arms and talking to himself was
a sign you should cross the street
and not make eye contact. Texting,
if you want to send me a letter please
put it in the mail and let the nice
Post Office people deliver it. If you
wish to talk to me please call or
stop by for coffee. Directions annoy
the hell out of me. They are usually
written by someone who never tried
to put the damn thing together using
their directions. The GPS lady really
bugs me. I’d rather get lost than
badgered by her recalculating tone.
Kayakers who paddle over and ask
me how the fishing is today make me
want to torpedo their boat. Popcorn
really bugs me. Ice cream head rushes,
forks touching that filling, small toys in
my shoes, and being old annoy me.
So I get even. My mantra is simple.
Places to go. People to annoy.
John G. Lawless
2/10/2013
Submitted to
Things that Annoy Me contest
She wanted a big production wedding,
badgered her fiancee into going along
with the bad idea
Get the marriage started off wrong
Money that needed to be saved, not squandered
on some reality TV thrill
She was used to getting her way,
had the right chemistry skill set to maudlinly operate
Mix insincere tears with theatrical screams;
shake the anger beaker and her gaseous speech start bubbling,
gasping for air ... ready to explode
Fake fainting and pitiful groveling:
She’s the best supporting actress at causing a scene
Don’t get her started, she’s a drama queen
The day before the rock star nuptials,
she’s not feeling good about the Bridezilla dress
Says it makes her look like a garage bargain mess —
gives her a mannequin big waist, small chest
and a bottom flatter than a desk
This thespian woman got other mad skills too
that she can bring
Skull Island drama queen,
who can Judy Garland sultry siren sing,
and get Baby Jane King Kong mean
Bugged out on the unpolished chandeliers
and the late arriving catering
It’s bringing out the worst side of the drama queen,
and everybody knows:
She’s the best supporting actress at causing a scene
But her girlfriend is the best actress in the hood,
a genuine, Hollywood Hall of Fame drama queen —
She can delivery every kind
of emotional line
with perfect timing
Little late Lady
(Tongue Twister/ Alliteration )
Little late Lady lingered likewise long at the Lodge.
Made mean man Maney more than merely mad.
Silly Sam Sheriff sadly seized a solemn summons.
Little late Lady legally lip lied lost legation law.
Big bad bully badgered beauty by a big ball bat.
Little late Lady lynched large lunatic large late lad.
Lugubrious little late Lady had a large larynx lump.
God give grace going gangster on gamin gall!
Little late Lady lingered likewise long at the lodge.
Written by: Judy Ann Riley
Revised : June 1, 2009
There was never any controlling it?
No dodging it. Unloading it?
It stuck us both together and held us tightly in its grip
We tried our hand at moulding it
?Healing it. Holding it?
It wanted us together; head, heart and thrusting hip
Once, we nearly cornered it?
We threatened it. We warned it?
But it came once more and sheltered us, ‘till we fought with it again.
Black bruised we gently eased it
?We blew on it and teased it?
We rescued and revived it, till it burst back into flame
Then life drove us and we dashed it?
Thrashed it. Trashed it?
Tested every fibre, every ounce of strength it had?
We badgered it and blagged it,?
My word! How we have shagged it!
?It flared again and gave us, all the pleasure that it had
We disrespected and abused it.
?Never soothed it. Smoothed it?
Caressed or contemplated, its very gentle deeds We hounded it. Confounded it.?
In drink, we’ve damn near drowned it
?But still, it softened life for us and satisfied our needs
This love, it lays between us
?Binding us. Bleeding us?
The tether and the freedom that only it can give Searing us. Endearing us?
Together, there is no fear in us
?This 'It'? Well, that's simple. 'Tis the reason that we live
How can it be he is no longer here?
How can it be I do not hear that voice
His presence haunts me from his battered chair
Though I have money and no needs to bare
I feel the grief, the affect of his choice.
How can it be that he has vanished here?
What is the world when loss turns to despair.
When every sheet by weeping is made moist?
His presence haunts from his beloved chair
Now we learn the symbol of the hare
Unpeaceful, hunted, jugged or humdrum roast
How can it be when love should counter fear?
Into the real, we stand and longtime stare
We’re begging, blaming, badgered, shamed and gassed
Some presence feints with ours in death’s own lairs
Now the world of man has long surpassed
The time we could blame God for what we ‘ve missed
How can it be that He is never here?
His absence haunts: symbolic, suffered, real.
Badgered In Baltimore
Dear Blabby,
My bride of forty-five years has a cow whenever she suspects me of catting around. She calls me a little weasel and a snake in the grass. I try to answer, but I'm ordered to clam up. She's such a pest, asking me all the time about my sheepish grin.
Blabby, it hurts when she calls me a leach and a sloth just because I choose not to work. She complains that while she’s a busy as a bee all day long, I’m just a degenerate wolf, hitting on dumb bunnies every night. She says I’m an ape and am as dumb as an ox. She accuses me of treating our marriage like it was a lark. She screams at me, calling me an ass and a cheating rat.
Yesterday I really lost it. I told her that I was not some dirty, mangy dog. I called her a shrew and that I was a scapegoat in her kangaroo court.
Blabby, why must she be so catty? She’s a prying old bloodhound. Should I simply tell her to bug off?
Just now my wife called me a slimy worm. She says my behavior lately seems very fishy. She accuses me of having a whale of a time while we’ve become as poor as church mice. The worst part is that, in order to pay our rent, we’re forced to look for a loan shark.
Blabby, I’m afraid my goose is cooked. She’s threatening to stone me to death! What am I to do?
Badgered in Baltimore
Dear Badgered,
When the rocks start flying—Duck!
7/26/22
How can it be he is no longer here?
How can it be I do not hear that voice
His presence haunts me from his battered chair
Though I have money and no needs to bare
I feel the grief, the affect of his choice.
How can it be that he has vanished here?
What is the world when loss turns to despair.
When every sheet by weeping is made moist?
His presence haunts from his beloved chair
Now we learn the symbol of the hare
Unpeaceful, hunted, jugged or humdrum roast
How can it be when love should counter fear?
Into the real, we stand and longtime stare
We’re begging, blaming, badgered, shamed and gassed
Some presence feints with ours in death’s own lairs
Now the world of man has long surpassed
The time we could blame God for what we ‘ve missed
How can it be that He is never here?
His absence haunts: symbolic, suffered, real.
so someone badgered you
threw their words at you
they splintered like sticks
they broke the skin like stones
you swallowed your heart
you lost the movement of your watch
i'm sorry they attacked you
unprovoked
later i'll remind you bruises heal
but for now
show me where it hurts
think of my sincere concern
as that kiss your mom use to place there
later i'll remind you some people are unfair
because they are and that's that
block them out
there are others who are kind
who have words that penetrate the thickest of skulls
who inject love like a vaccine
who prevent the black plague hate from spreading
but for now it’s about you
you feel alone
you feel no one understands
you feel abandoned
and you feel just plain bad
really bad
i understand the puncture
a rhinos horn leaves
unaware of the harm they left
because their hide is thick
there are those of us
who are like you
sensitive
we've read your tears
we've watched you all these years
and we are pleased to be in your company
so take the time you need to heal
and don't forget
we are here
A lovely face with a gorgeous height,
Nibbles the straw with its bemused delight,
Chafed palpitation in bewilderment,
Ticks disaster reeking of harassment;
Look away and miss those voluptuous joints,
Fine lingerie upsets the veiled data points,
Tattoo figures in barbarian flanks,
Badgered innocence and I muse for ranks.
In her feline moves watch for the gait;
Never burn fingers when you see her bait.