Best Bang On Poems
Your reflection is a liar
It makes no confessions
The image reaches within
Cold fingers claw at your mind
A mirrored smile
Taunts you
Haunts you
No words spoken
Yet you hear screaming in your head
You reach out your hands
Palms joined on glass
No warmth transfers as you touch
You stare at the illusionary you
Looking back from his backward land
A place without air
Yet it is you who cannot breath
Together you bang on the glass
Cracks appear
You cut your right hand
Blood trickles down his left wrist
As he licks it off you taste it on your lips
There it is again
That smile
Perhaps it's a smirk
What does he know
Fear rises from within
You turn to walk away
Hair rises on your neck
The sound of shattered glass
As the pieces of you fall
You were never here
All these people you used to be
Shards of glass upon the floor
Nathan's Mirror Contest
Kind of freaky it matches one of your pictures, I wrote this a while ago.
Watery eyed thoughts came,
Zap! Pow! a short circuited brain.
Inward turned burned ocular pain,
too many thoughts to restrain
I’m a cheap sheep making my mistakes again.
Smell my seared wool going down the drain.
Ba, ba, blackishly wishing I was right as rain.
Words accessed by my fingertips
help to quicken my sheepish heartbeat
Yet I bang on my keyboard, DELETE, DELETE!
Ripping out digital scores, sheet by sheet.
Never once listening to what other sheep bleat.
Instead I feel my brain draining
as my barnyard thoughts are straining
I can’t translate what they’re saying.
It sounds to much like blah blah complaining.
I’m watching you fake shepherd boy,
black sheep never sleep
into the darkness we’re destined to creep.
Sad sadistic secrets you’ve burdened us to keep
So we push our charred thoughts way down deep,
as we travel paths dangerous and steep.
Within the silence of the lambs,
you devilishly relish hearing us weep.
While I admire fleece as white as snow.
I’m not inclined to go where those sheep go.
Their path leads to your fictional rainbow.
They’re not safe just because they travel slow.
The True Shepherd wouldn’t lead them to and fro
I listen to my uneasy queazy feeling
and exit your proverbial row.
I wish I could stop them too
but, ba ba ba, to the slaughter they go.
For Wow Me Poetry Contest entered August 26, 2019.
Written August 21, 2019
Re-entered in John Hamilton’s N/A contest
I’m a beautiful angel like you’ll see on a tree
My snow globe plays a carol it is so Christmasy
I’m trapped in this snow globe, I want to get out
I bang on the casing and I scream and I shout
Bobby picks the globe and he shakes it so hard
so the snow swirls inside like it does in the yard
He then casts me aside leaving me on the table
and the kitten stares at me, she is called Mable
Mable bats me around and I crash to the floor
she’s found a new toy, and bats me with her paw
My snow globe home slides across the front room
Then the father treads on it and seals my doom
The snow globe is smashed, water leaks everywhere
And all the snow’s disappeared, oh it just isn’t fair
Bobby’s mother says she’s got a clever idea
I’ll take pride of place on her cake every year
Written for contest .... then I discovered Bobby wanted Free verse!
11/22/19
My little boy on rainy days
The tin pots are out to stay
On those days very dry
Some hold vegetables; some meat fry
Bang on the unused pots, baby
Today's your day for fun ~maybe
My little boy; make some noise
Little one; use them for your toys
Oh! It is raining~ again
Listen to, all that den
Little one, get the spoon
Hit the side, to rain's tune
Sponsor: Eve Roper
Contest: Nursery Rhyme 2
Date written: 03/15/2021
I was remembering my mother used to tell me a rhyme that she said her boyfriend wrote to her for Valentine's day. My mother was born in 1901 and was a teenager around 1914 so a very long time ago.
Her friend wrote her this poem:
I love you a little
I love you a lot
I love you enough to fill ten pots
Eight wash tubs and 3 dishpans
So my thoughts for writing this comes from this little poem my mother told me when I was a teenager.
Ray Gridley has a possible diagnosis
Alas, rabbits do catch viral myxomatosis
Since Jan's is a famous banging bunny
Who stays far from field and ANY honey
Energizer Bunny will bang on till unconscious!
(c)Deo, 04152017
Charcoal Sheep
Watery eyed thoughts came,
Zap! Pow! a short circuited brain.
Inward turned burned ocular pain,
too many thoughts to restrain
I’m a cheap sheep making my mistakes again.
Smell my seared wool going down the drain.
Ba ba ba, sorta blackish, wishing I was right as rain.
Worlds accessed by my fingertips
help to quicken this sheepish heartbeat.
I bang on my keyboard, DELETE, DELETE!
Ripping out digital scores, sheet by sheet.
Never once listening to warnings.
All the while the other sheep bleat.
Instead I feel my brain drain
as my barnyard thoughts strain.
I can’t translate what they’re saying,
but I feel them point and complain.
My paradigm won’t shift though,
I have a glass ego to maintain.
So I download my brain
into my mainframe.
I’m watching you fake shepherd boy,
black sheep never sleep.
Into the darkness
we’re destined to creep.
We have those sad sadistic secrets
you’ve burdened us to keep.
So I smudge charcoal thoughts
dangerously deep.
I prefer paths, dangerous and steep.
Within the silence of the lambs,
you devilishly relish hearing me weep.
You defile fleece as white as snow.
I resist going where those sheep go.
Their path leads to your fictional rainbow.
They’re not safe even though
they travel slow.
The True Shepherd
wouldn’t lead them to and fro.
I listen to my uneasy queasy feeling
and exit your proverbial row.
I wish I could stop them too
but, ba ba ba,
off to the slaughter they go.
Oh, my…oh…my sad heart’s bang on broke,
Bidding adieu, to my lover, a sweet bloke.
A tall, brunette sailor, going back to the sea.
In duress, I moaned, what’s to become of me?
Without his eyes, the deep color of the sea.
And his tanned ,muscular arms to encircle me.
I rested my arms on the railing, as his ship pulled away,
Knowing, I’d recall this moment forever and a day.
Come back, come back, dearest sailor of mine.
To love me once again and stroll in God’s sunshine!
4/24/2023
Look, Spoken & Served
I myself with Oneness, sorting through this mess and disaster,
With truthfulness, bringing faster, craftier, eternal factors,
Smells like hell departing with ignorant laughter,
Through the storms of days after,
Into the good news, from the one who knew darkness to outlast ya,
With a staunch persona, don’t compare,
To any man’s power, its conscious power shared,
The brains awake, causing good and evil to circulate,
Like internal relations, neglect their sight in this earthquake,
Swords of wisdom to the hater, in another verse,
Seeking wise knowledge through this hell for what it’s worth,
Look, spoken and served,
Clutch another word fighter putting steps to the word,
These are the seeds, Skater styled proverbs,
The unrighteous pay a ransom to get what they deserve,
Bang on about a lord, confined to a cell,
Subatomic waves sell by wearing a pleasant array real well,
The exterior can be the teacher, but distortion can spray,
Like featured deep riddles badly retreat and reach ya,
Indestructible feature, I’m the narrator you select,
In company with the Upper Deck, I don’t neglect or disrespect,
The heavens and earth combined, the ultimate divine line,
The one percenters, promotions of evil grandeur in the airtime,
Bear in mind my rhymes, the tools of my trade,
Aid my veins, insane in this game I came, this is a raid,
Played out conscious praise in the day, when dues will all be paid.
Quincy Mac
date written: 4.12.2015
I know it's not funny
What it is rather in fact
It's criminally sad
That someone in the first place
Could become or ever be
So full of their own self importance
Or so selfish and totally unaware
Let alone give a damn or care
To think so highly of themselves
That they didn't even realize
What they were or are
A spare of a spare
And yet after all of that
And having been caught out
And exposed as both
A cold hearted charlatan, grifter and fraud
Still keep up the farcical pretence
Of acting like and pretend playing the victim
No or is it any wonder then or why
Apart from themselves
Even their own supposed family
But not according to them
No longer even want
Anything to do with the pair of them
Let alone them
Or anyone else
For that matter either
Couldn't happen to 2 nicer people
They truly seem to be soul mates
And deserve
One another
Because in the end
It's their own children
Who I genuinely feel sorry for
Since you endlessly bang on about
Your problematic childhood
Because I hazard a guess
You have never given a single moments
To stop and
Spare
A thought for them
As it's only and always evet been about
Ladies and Gentlemen
One and All
I hereby and present to you
Royal Pince Spare
&
Dutchess Entitlement Sparsely
Liberty Hall
The halls are packed with Liberty,
She cries FREEDOM on the streets.
The halls are packed with Liberty,
The children forgo their sweets.
Let's have a Ball
Smash and grab, fire asunder
Take what you can, who cares!
Come on people, lets' plunder,
Don't worry about the stares.
It's your Call
Hey coppers, we're over here,
What are you going to do in blue?
Like Goliath you have the spear
But we have our stones too.
England's Fall
Forever England, forever scarred,
A scared community up in arms,
Houses burnt, vehicles charred,
Come citizens, sound the alarm.
Murdered All
Standing up for justice,
Protecting innocent blood,
"That's when the motorist
Ran them over m'lud".
England's Rise
To arms people of England
And bring your brooms to sweep
Up those in the gutter and
Take them off to the Keep
It's Our Call
We'll clear our streets of chard
Of glass and wash away the blood.
We know that recession hits you hard
And poverty's doors opened the flood.
The PM's Call
To those of you who caused this pain
I say to you again and again;
"We shall seek you out, bang on your door
To prison you'll go and join the score."
The Rioters Ball.
To the party the hoodies went
Headline news and infamy gained,
Lusted and busted, their energy spent
Their futures ordained and chained.
Whitehall
The doors of power convened in suit
And Judgement Day sprang to life.
Murmurings and guffaws of repute
Resonated like Churchillian days of rife.
IS IT HOT IN HERE?
I`m a physical, mental wreck, waiting for a beard
I have no sense of time, I`m definitely weird.
I`m peri-menopausal, go from blazing hot to cold,
I have wrinkles, bags, am fat, and very very old.
I sometimes find my my car keys in obscure places
I often forget names, while remembering certain faces.
I`m 50 shades of madness, go from saint to sinner,
I eat chocolate for my breakfast, lunch, and sometimes dinner.
I often lie in bed with my heart and mind both racing
bang on red alert when it`s just my pillow I`m facing
I have a yen for change, I want a tie dye dress in blue.
I want to get naked in a field under a snuggly at midnight, true.
I`d rather have a hob nob than a quickie with a stranger
I`ve forgotten all the words to "Away in a manger".
I often google questions, that apparently nobody asks,
The naughtiest I get, is putting whites with colourfast.
I wander round my place with a million good intentions
to complete the jobs at hand, then start dreaming of inventions.
I get time warped, tongue tied, and prickly
I lose my direction and the plot quite quickly.
I`m managing not to pee when I sneeze
I`m doing pelvic exercises would you please.
My sex is definitely not "on fire"
I don`t even fancy Danny Dyer!
Is it Monday today? I`ve forgotten what I was saying..........
Form:
A ring on the doorbell, a bang on the door
They both rush past me, coats on the floor!
“Hi-ya Granddad” and “Nanny” they shout
The books and the toys now have to come out.
The T.V goes on and some music to gel
They start to argue and things don’t go well
So Nanny starts baking and Carys is there
After only five minutes the biscuit tins bare!
But Will stays with Granddad, just kicking a ball
He’s really growing he’s getting quite tall
We all stop for tea now, some quiet at last
The cake’s really lovely, we’ve all had a blast!
Can we sleep here tonight Nan? –“You know we’ll be good”
“We’re not really naughty just misunderstood!”
So to keep everyone happy we both agree
But, in your own beds mind and not in with me!
So in your pyjamas and off up to bed
The love of our lives now let it be said
We reflect on our day with much love and much joy
We love you so much, our girl and our boy!
Grandma's Pets
My granda went away to sea
For many months on end
He'd travel on a fishing boat
With his brother and a friend
He used to write home regularly
And tell some quite tall tales
About being in a far-away place
When he was actually in Wales
Once they actually went to Africa
He wrote he was bringing Gran a pet
When he came home with a small cage
He'd brought her a marmoset
He opened up the cage
And up the curtains it did run
The curtains tore, granda laughed,
Grandma didn't think it fun
She said it had to go
So to the pet shop Granda went
He returned without the Monkey
And to ‘Coventry’ he was sent
Granda apologised and said
that he would compensate
Next day he bought Gran Tip,a cat
Bimbo, the budgie, feared its fate
He'd run up and down his ladder
And his cuttlefish he would gnaw
He took one look at Tip and thought
'I've not seen you before'
One day he pecked his bell so hard
The clapper fell out onto the floor
No matter how much he pecked it
That bell would ring no more
Bimbo, I’d known since a little girl
He lived to a good age
I still remember that fateful day
I found him lifeless in his cage
Tip lived till he was seven
Many kittens he would father
Mrs Thomas would bang on the door
And get in a right lather
“Your Tip's been paying visits
To my precious tabby Pip.
If you don't keep him in
I'll see to it he has ‘the snip'”
After Tip came Ruff the dog
A cairn terrier with his papers
We would laugh so many times
At his little doggie capers
There were two unbuttered teacakes
Sitting on a plate
Mum went to fetch the butter
She came back to an empty plate
Ruff was looking sheepish
Crumbs all around his chin
The cute expression on his furry face
I could swear it was a grin
We lost Ruff when he was eight
Poison in his canned dog food
If that had happened now
The manufacturer we'd have sued
Grandma put her foot down
And told Granda “No more pets”
She missed them all
Well most of them
But not the marmoset
I can't sleep
Around me
Are quiet sounds
Of the night
Ticking of a clock
Creaking of the floor
Bored
I look out from my apartment
There is no one on the streets.
Hearing a scratching sound
I carefully tiptoe across the room
So no one will see or hear me
Placing my ear against the wall
I hear voices
Angry voices
Hysterical voices
Muffled voices
Someone is upset
They take turns yelling
I want to bang on the walls
And tell them for Christ sakes
It's two am in the morning
Why don't you take it outside
Or better yet go out and fly a kite.
My idea is ridiculous
The voices will not go outside
In the night
And fly a kite
They continue arguing
Over what I don't know
And I wonder
Does a loud angry voice
Make a quiet voice wrong?
That fashion style's come round again
for everywhere one sees
the young 'uns in their denim jeans
with rips across the knees.
Some sporting just a single slash,
others have two or more,
it must help ventilate their gait
don't know what else they're for.
If having holy clothing means
they wear a look that rocks,
it means that I am bang-on trend
with my pants, my shoes and socks.