Best Besmirching Poems
ANGEL IN THE RAIN
Last eve heard my prayer that I would awake to a rainbow
And only the mistiness would know how it would go
Oh and I awoke to see the colors that so blessed my eyes
While at the edge of that rainbow the rarity of an angel cries
I hear her loudly weeping from far above
Bemoaning the besmirching of yesterday’s love
Perhaps rainbows only appear to soothe an angel’s heart
Until a multi-tinted pallet and the sky are made to part
There then is left but a memory born by the blue
And only a hint of what the heavens can do
Rainbows can appear and disappear at will
Yet weeps that woe filled angel still
The sky turned blue a bit later on
Once that reverent and radiant rainbow was gone
Mine is cold comfort when a coal colored sky finally clears
Until another angel dries that weeping angel’s tears
© 2013 copyright PHREEPOETREE…..~free cee!~
Where the Osages' God almighty once reigned
The almighty dollar their proud life- blood drained
As man- made arteries pumped out the rich black oil
Making a mockery of their sacred soil
Their native American dream withered and died
A bounty built on bodies the thieves satisfied
Slick concords duped and dealt deceit
Gilt edged profit a one way street
Guilt hardened minds plundered their lands
Blood and oil both besmirching their sands
With their sacred lands profaned ,laid bare and dry
Vengeance is their spectral spirits' only cry
only by a fluke did I manage
to worm winning trust
among Christmas elves and reindeer
confident this generic guy,
would never breach scandalous
tidbits, into a an underground impregnable
air-raid shelter, the motley crue
tied blindfold over my eyes, didst steer
me hermetically sealed
sound (cloud) proof bunker
while ensconced (security detail munchkins,
who just so happened tubby *****
minded entrance portal)
only after getting the thumb up signal,
whereat nose pies planted
espionage surveillance devices
the chief head honcho and attendents,
Smoky and the bandits respectively,
magically, andhandily did ap pear
and despite one hundred percent bug free,
a whispered stance opted just to make sure
no unwanted eavesdropper could overhear
plus every participant swore an oath, cuz
any leaked real or “FAKE” information,
would spell imminent demise to be near
the upshot, sans grave emergency
d escribingclandestine arraignment
involving some rogue elf
(most likely at least two),
and a misbehaving reindeer
(names withheld to avoid any spoiler alert,
plus this entire kit and caboodle
necessary to help Saint Nick
got wind, (and subsequently reined in)
a rave party with orgiastic
sex, drugs and rock and roll
that a band aided elf(ves)
laced with Pepper Minstix
(anonymously hashtagged Sodom and Gomorrah)
sullied pure as the driven snow repute,
when alias Sugarplum Mary (“FAKE NAME”)
detected snorting cocaine
code named Alabaster Snowball,
while additionally
besmirching her virginity
via coital cavorting
amidst a Bushy Evergreen
shaking as if frenzied
with feverish boogie woogie flu
which seductive, prurient,
and master baiter friend zeed
(spunky gangnum style) Shinny Upatree
which could slay Wunorse Openslae reputation
as substance abusers,
and sex offenders if not worse.
The children went there once again
With food for those dismayed
They watched as love relieved their lot
And listened as they prayed
For these were simple country folk
Who raised the Bishop's ire
By spurning worship run amok
For hillside faith and fire.
Their preachers would not take the oath
No other shepherds matched
Now hunted by cruel men on horse
And to the wilds dispatched
The birds and sheep would share their psalms
And hear of faith hard tried
Now kirk-yard locked them up in shame
And starved them as they cried.
And hierarchy called the bunch
Crude radicals to tame
And strained at gnats while having lunch
Besmirching Jesus' name.
So let the children break the rules
With mercy in their bread
And learn from martyrs tried like gold
The Hope of Spirit-led.
https://issuu.com/deedub51/docs/looking_to_the_shepherd
...exhortations against Ole Saint Nick
(alternately titled untold treasured shenanigans of Santa)
his elves and reindeer discovered only
by colluding via "FAKE" fluke
did I manage to worm winning the trust
among Christmas elves and reindeer
confident this generic guy,
would never breach scandalous
tidbits, into an underground impregnable
air-raid shelter, the Motley Crue
tied blindfold over my eyes, didst steer
me hermetically sealed,
which crawl space required me to hunker
sound (cloud) proof bunker
while ensconced (security detail munchkins,
who just so happened tubby *****
minded entrance portal)
only after getting the thumb up signal,
whereat nose pies planted
espionage surveillance devices
the chief head honcho and attendants,
Smoky and the bandits respectively,
magically, and handily did appear
and despite one hundred percent bug-free,
a whispered stance opted just to make sure
no unwanted eavesdropper could overhear
plus every participant swore an oath, cuz
any leaked real or “FAKE” information,
would spell imminent demise to be near
the upshot, sans grave emergency
describing clandestine arraignment
involving some rogue elf
(most likely at least two),
and a misbehaving reindeer
(names withheld to avoid any spoiler alert),
plus this entire kit and caboodle
necessary to help Saint Nick
got wind, (and subsequently reined in)
a rave party with orgiastic
sex, drugs and rock and roll
that a band-aided elf(ves) hest
laced with Pepper Minstix
(anonymously hashtagged Sodom and Gomorrah)
sullied pure as the driven snow repute,
when aliasing Sugarplum Mary (“FAKE NAME”)
detected snorting cocaine
codenamed Alabaster Snowball,
while additionally besmirching her virginity
via coital cavorting amidst a Bushy Evergreen
shaking as if frenzied with feverish boogie woogie flu
which seductive, prurient,
and master baiter friend zeed
(spunky Gangnam style) Shinny Upatree
which could slay Wunorse Openslae reputation
as substance abusers,
and sex offenders if not worse.
Police lines,
Flashing lights,
its a crime scene.
That is our beloved mother earth,
criminals cremated her morals,
her beauty they tarnished with their evil deeds,
turning her into a crime scene.
Lo! The heroes of yesterday are today's criminals,
criminals of today are heroes,
in this fallen land of ours.
Lies are carrying the crown,
ruling over the fading truth,
besmirching all it stands for,
turning honesty into fallacy,
all in the name of greed.
Indeed, our land is a crime scene.
Hear you our lamentations,
let our tears cleans our land,
let our loud resonating cries shush inhumanity,
Lo! hear you our cries.
'Dirty Laundry!'
Tell me why hearts compose when all poems are born
in a world full of wastrels (where weakest get slain?)
There are bloodstains besmirching blank sheets we would use
for bleached pulp comes from trees that won't filter man's air
till seed's twigs grow again to tall trees like forebears
and engender soft rains that won't wash soil away
from diversity found when Man's goals stray from greed.
Were the Indians much wiser (less strident in need?)
that they lived more a balance of work mixed with play
with no castle walls screaming "Look fool! Mine has stairs!"
So few ways to hide plunder, who'd steal? Would you dare?
If most folks learn same skill sets, why overproduce?
If the weak aren't slave labor strong use where's the gain?
If life's chores find division that's fair, who's to scorn?
Dirty laundry explodes when one must wash my clothes
for the meat one would eat (that one can't watch me find!)
Truth! Some days the hunt's easy, on others its tough!
But one's belly feels rumbles though fresh clothes can wait!
Most don't live in the tropics where fruit grows on trees
and earth's seasons wax milder than climes near its poles.
Love's light binges on grace while pride flounders in wealth!
We all crave, hope for sense of belonging but oaths
to most tribes fail to satisfy man's dreams, eyes blind
to what's real. [God! Man's truth's sad!] We lack the right stuff,
overlook our worst faults, feel it's better to hate
sin in others than work on our own. We would please
those who flatter (who bribe and cajole us). Most souls
love delights of the flesh, disregard true faith's health.
Long Tooth
February 1 in 2023
I see the world and I see the light,
And what I see you shall see,
The world is changing as time goes on,
I hear the exertion and twinge of the leaders,
I smell the invigorate and besmirching of the outside world
My heart melted like ice at the changing cosmos,
Born into this terrain- feeling trapped in a cage
Though I beam, I see the glaze of green grass,
Just one fiber, situated in the relic grim,
Behold, It shall and will advance,
Throughout the extinguishing mural,
I see what I have seen,
Generation upon generation, Oh how we arise,
Life seems to be irresolute ,
It takes just one fiber,
One filament to advance and beget new things,
You can remodel the inevitable,
You can originate the route,
Life is all about distinct beginnings,
Don't let the light fade away,
The darkness will keep devouring all in its passage,
You can recover what's been disintegrated
Be not becalmed, but busy, buzzy, bustling;
bedazzling but not bedraggled;
beloved, bewitched but be not besotted.
Be bewitching, but not belittling nor besmirching.
Begin to be -
become, belong, befriend, beseech, beget
Bewilder, befuddle, bedazzle,
Make bequests - beguile, beseech, bestow, bequeath,
to belay fate bedeviled with
what is not to be.
Beyond the buzzing, hustle and bumbling
be businesslike, but not belligerent nor bossy
Be bespattered with pollen begotten in harvest.
Flakes as silent satin
Sail down salubriously
Dissipating into stupefaction
Hitherto ramming clay
They were the forlorn harbingers
Before a cataclysm of sposh
Burst through the firmament
Like a derailed locomotive
Besmirching any implement in ambit
The innocuous sniff of sposh
Vilifying my cranium
As with a burst of gore
Revivifying to the hub
After an interlude of rhythmic diminution and distend
A rapturous ardor of splendor
Garnering me into a frosty sphere
Of flakes and satin
Methinks it snows.
when i think of you
i think of your needs
or is it my needs?
... if you are alone or fulfilled
or is it my fulfillment i'm after?
your river of life,
turbulent ... as they are
yet waterfalls
of hope and promise
yet with banks of hardness
knots to unravel
mysteries to uncover
but are challenges
not suppose to be fun?
can i have fun?
tributaries with red herrings
little white lies
benign
yet swimming waves of beguile
besmirching the surface, veil
yet what can i do ... but smile, too
can i swim with you?
its the other tributary i yearn
you should see me ...
yet...
its your depository that snakes the river
or is it me wanting to make a deposit?
this is all alien to me
the irony here i roll my eyes ...
not the two peas in the pod
connie pachecho
3/24/17
the (better late than never)
free admission confession, exhortations against Ole Saint Nick
treasured untold shenanigans of Santa,
his elves and reindeer discovered only
by colluding via "FAKE" fluke
did I manage to worm winning the trust
among Christmas elves and reindeer
confident this generic guy,
would never breach scandalous
tidbits, into an underground impregnable
air-raid shelter, the Motley Crue
tied blindfold over my eyes, didst steer
me hermetically sealed,
which crawl space required me to hunker
sound (cloud) proof bunker
while ensconced (security detail munchkins,
who just so happened tubby *****
minded entrance portal)
only after getting the thumb up signal,
whereat nose pies planted
espionage surveillance devices
the chief head honcho and attendants,
Smoky and the bandits respectively,
magically, and handily did appear
and despite one hundred percent bug-free,
a whispered stance opted just to make sure
no unwanted eavesdropper could overhear
plus every participant swore an oath, cuz
any leaked real or “FAKE” information,
would spell imminent demise to be near
the upshot, sans grave emergency
describing clandestine arraignment
involving some rogue elf
(most likely at least two),
and a misbehaving reindeer
(names withheld to avoid any spoiler alert),
plus this entire kit and caboodle
necessary to help Saint Nick
got wind, (and subsequently reined in)
a rave party with orgiastic
sex, drugs and rock and roll
that a band-aided elf(ves)
laced with Pepper Minstix
(anonymously hashtagged Sodom and Gomorrah)
sullied pure as the driven snow repute,
when aliasing Sugarplum Mary (“FAKE NAME”)
detected snorting cocaine
codenamed Alabaster Snowball, while additionally
besmirching her virginity via coital cavorting
amidst a Bushy Evergreen
shaking as if frenzied
with feverish boogie woogie flu
which seductive, prurient,
and master baiter friend zeed
(spunky Gangnam style) Shinny Upatree
which could slay Wunorse Openslae reputation
as substance abusers,
and sex offenders if not worse.
What is Truth?
2/1/2018
Of late, many use the media to establish a claim,
After retroactive years, I question, is revenge their game?
On harassment claims, some that happened years ago,
Is it publicity, a book deal, or settlement dough?
Some have flaunted assets to reach the ladders top,
And once successful determine, it’s time to stop.
While we never know for sure of the specific act,
The more times it’s repeated it’s often accepted as fact.
Some go through life hustling others as they go,
And besmirching another doesn’t always make it so.
You Don’t Have to Tell the Truth,
You Only Need to Convince The Media That You Are,
And many lives are being ruined
After being tried and found guilty in the court of public opinion.
Tom
Season's decay paints the sky with autumn’s glow,
Etches each leaf with hues of red, yellow and gold.
Pastel shades of summer warmth are withdrawn from the show,
The tones of night are blackened blue, turned chilly and cold.
Ensnared by fate to fade to gray, the flowers do yield.
Murmuring their colors to leaves now dead and spent.
Belatedly, the leaves tumble to the ground, their past concealed.
Enwrapping the earth's lament in a patchwork quilt so resplendent.
Reflections dance upon the lake’s calm still face,
Fleeting mists loom in and settle, besmirching views once clear.
As life's pace slows, nature is content with autumn's lace,
Lulled to stall and beget another fall, in yet another year.
Life is expelled to pause as September withers away,
Surrendering its tapestry to the aberrant beauty of decay.
If Trump wins...rest in peace - Mother of Freedom
Post mortem courtesy
Doctor Demento yielded
Lady Liberty lies slain...
videre licet knocked senseless
from brutal blows upon her crown
simultaneously shouldering existential crisis
triggered nervous breakdown
though rendered mute
sound of silence doth expound.
Forsooth impeachment hearings
rendered him immune
to chastisement, insurrection
he did foment, blithely
skirting impairment appertain
blood on hands of
self important president,
though alcohol he doth abstain,
nonetheless permanent drunken stupor
doth wax and wain
finger of guilt
damaging democracy points
to him as chief villain
groomed since... time immemorial
atavistic primate brain
bathed (courtesy Frederick Christ Trump)
buzzfeeding chosen favored heir
go for broke – as a red badge of courage
bankrupt countless times
and pulled out all stops,
viz unbridled thundering,
espousing philosophy gain
amass wealth, unscrupulous
if necessary where,
might equals right cold play'n
deadly serious game (Life) train
sight squarely and/or roundly
scattered lovely bones
amidst tombstones testimony
incidental secondary fallout main
part and parcel, where legerdemain,
plus art of the deal linkedin
with immeasurable gloating
ego necessary to gain
con fetter writ oligarchy plain
successfully cheating, hocking,
milking, quaffing, and trending,
yielding dynastic rule
trumpeting eternal and carnal
stormy Daniels reign
vaping with wealthy
zealotry (think vain)
at electorate expense
tampering koolaid acid test
courtesy illegals sown GMO grain
colluding when/where possible,
never losing sight regarding
selfish mission to attain
obligatory ideal tyranny
rampantly running roughshod,
no need to explain
writing sleight underhanded profane
antithetical, critical, heretical quatrain
badgering, belittling, besmirching,
bilking, boasting, bragging with disdain
flagrantly flaunting, fleecing,
regarding purported B.S. degree
in economics he did attain
matriculating Wharton School of law,
hmm... methinks he paid
hireling from Ukraine
forever flirting, flouting, and flunking
even basic geography questions
case in point being
where is Drury Lane
additionally, he ain't
no literati familiar
storied quasi fiction Citizen Kane.