Best Blather Poems
To forgive or not to forgive, that is the question.
When you are offended, whether real or imagined
by a loved one, a friend, or by someone esteemed,
do you confront the other, or resolve to be patient?
If by some stroke of luck, the offender apologized
but turns around, talking glib gobbledygook,
do you keep silent and still, looking cool as ice,
or do you tell it to his face, that he’s more than a crook?
At such time as this, or any time for that matter,
it is best to forgive whether he asks for it or not.
Do not poison your heart with cyanide blather;
bitterness can bother like a bat’s up your butt!
Forgiveness frees the offended from the devil’s deceit;
and makes you smile at the debtor, as his debt, you forfeit.
*First line draws on Hamlet's soliloquy, Act III, Scene 1; W. Shakespeare
A modern sonnet.
06 October 2015
Poem of the Week - October 11 to 17, 2015
Rodents can be loquacious
That includes your average gerbil
They love to prattle, chat and blather
They really are quite verbal
Hamsters are talkative too
Just as garrulous as can be
With running mouth and wheel to match
They are a sight to see
But I am loath to squander words
Sparing usage is my way
I gather them like so many acorns
Against a rainy day
Yes, word collecting is the passion
Of this precocious squirrel
I garner adjectives, verbs and nouns
Be they singular or plural
The park is fecund land
There a plethora may be found
Vociferous, vehement and vex
I lately scooped up off the ground
The verb tree is prolific
Its discovery quite a boon
The other day it bestowed upon me
Flaunt, foster and festoon
All along the sidewalks
Concrete nouns lie strewn about
How blithely I did snatch up
A lummox, a laggard and a lout
To command a better view
I nimbly scampered up a pole
From this lofty perch I spotted
Wheedle, coax and cajole
Away in the distance
I spied a tempting pile
Heaped up for the taking were
Enticing, alluring and beguile
What do I with so much verbiage?
You would be fair to ask
Squirreling away so vast a lexicon
Must prove a mammoth task
The answer lies in my arboreal abode
Where these many words I stash
In alphabetical order they are arrayed
From zealous to abash
In a capricious mood one day
I grouped them by part of speech
Such a cacophony arose from clustering
Banter, badger and beseech
No matter how I sort them
The wasting of words I spurn
Reserved for rarest use I keep
Reticent, laconic and taciturn!
_________________________________
by Brian McClain - Feb 17, 2016
Originally posted Feb 17, 2016
Accidentally deleted Feb 22, 2016
Reposted Feb 22, 2016
When Poetry Soup becomes infested with partisan rubbish,
It will be difficult for liberal, creative poets, like me to flourish
Who seek a safe place away from the maddening ignorance
Of those people who continually despise political difference
For those who are angry and want to say the nastiest things
Do you have any idea what hurt your insatiable blather brings?
For some who don’t consider me a red-blooded American patriot,
I fought for the U.S. of A. in uniform when you were still just a tot!
I would rather die on the altar of honor than continually be castigated
By followers of a “wannabe” dictator who every day prevaricated
And sought to drag our country down into the muck and mire
Continues, to this day, stoking his sycophants’ hatred with fire.
Selecting a political putdown of President Joseph Biden for Poem of the Day
Was surely inappropriate if Poetry Soup administrators wish to say
The site maintains neutrality when it comes to political discourse
It encouraged poets, in their remarks, to choose up sides, of course
Anger and vitriol hurled toward us who are of more left-leaning mind
Will likely now become commonplace for those who are not so inclined.
Frankly, I despise clicking on a poem I think will be worth reading
Only to find, instead, an anti-American tirade of invective leading
To put-downs against our president, the vice-president, and first lady
Half-truths and conspiracy theories that, for the most part, are shady
If you are unhappy with the free and fair election that turned out your man
Then, every chance you get, go vote and change the system, if you can!
Our country is not, I think we’d all agree, a perfect democracy
We have lots of problems and crises – that's plain to see, but,
We now have a leader who cares about doing what is right
A man, who in short-order, is ready, committed, and willing to fight.
I have travelled the world over, north and south, east and west
Freedom to flourish in America is head and shoulders above the rest!
Written: April 4, 2021 (edited)
Awarded Poem of the Day on Poetry Soup
April 5, 2021
#38 on Best New Poems on Poetry Soup
April 6, 2021
Seeking Redemption Beyond The Horizon
While my mind ventures to unravel the origins of human enmities
Craves to stumble upon a most sagacious and diplomatic solution,
We journey on even when decency is absent without good reason.
Vestiges of a dream imbedded in pages shred to miniscule pieces.
Where did the promises that we had sworn to and to abide by go?
Were eyes blinded by a debris of perverted lies creating paranoia?
Transgressions orchestrated for their politically motivated agenda,
Enact crimes against humanity inflating an already distended ego.
There is no end in sight only the sanctimonious blather of the vile
Or those egregious behavior of autocrats and anarchists seditious.
We must beg the Spirit of Justice to lead and champion our cause,
Liberating hearts from dank dungeons where love remain in exile.
Time is of the essence to end disparities for polarity still envelops,
Like the devil's claw suppressing every gasp of humanity's breath.
The indistinct laughter, a dire warning, heralds an ominous threat,
No escape route or fence to climb, just a row of hangman's ropes.
Optimism's visions blindfolded, subjugated by menacing shadows,
Yet slivers of ethereal light penetrates impregnable walls of doom.
Opportunity transcends hardship driving back the insidious gloom,
It is within our grasp to ignite joy and douse the flame of sorrows!
Penned: 02/10/2023
2:41 p.m.
Las Vegas
Nevada
It rained on and on.
the fire in the hearth
had long died out.
hunger grew,
frustration raged.
vultures swooped down
to feed on flesh in the night
half willing, half resenting,
surrendered, rather subdued,
desire spilled over,
bristles pricking
from organ to organ
thrusting and tearing
devouring in greedy gulp
waves surged past the log
passion spent,
hunger appeased,
purse strings loosened,
silver coins tinkled.
amply paid,
her wages of shame……!
the toil not wasted!
nights came one by one
creatures of the night frequented her more often
and the scenes were constantly replayed
though she abhorred them,
there was no other go, but yield
‘exploring hands encounter(ed) no defense’.
each night closed in smutty h(r) ut,
when the h(r)ut turned a prostitute,
she started to rot.
feeble she grew,
languid she became,
body thinned,
energy waned,
ailments plagued,
and
immunity lost!
now,
she lives an outcast.
a luscious fruit
blighted by the worms!
no more nocturnal invaders…..
no inebriated blather falls in her ears
only the hoot of owls !
___________________________
June.16.2022
Placed Fourth
Creatures of the Night Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Julia Ward
Hallelujah, born again
chapels scheming, mankind reeling
in holy water's baptism of wizardly elixir
postulating an all consuming reverence,
rejuvenated myths of deiform fears
as reinvented nature flows in
lickety split's Latin discombobulation
Aggrandizement randomly written
in santuary's intensly scripted blather
increasing histrionics' translations,
'pon bled origins' of original sin
Amen's passed the poison apple mid shrines'
overflowing baskets of coined redemption
Tilt, you go to that fantasy in the sky
Hallelujah, born again
wherefrom archangels' herald lightworks,
otherwise Beelzebub will gladly impose
his heated grasp in welcoming you warmly
to a dark side of the fried fray,
difference in ashes' revival supposedly
are prayer & the almighty dollar,
naught to do with compassion & good will towards men,
ailing old frail women nor starving children,
falling prey to greener hard currency's salivating salvation
priestly entitled behaviors' disconcertingly repugnance,
who knew...gospel's chapter & functional verse
could be so dastardly rendered in man's
higher power of accommodated perversions
when accused of blither-blather
seek shelter in the moment, rather
than plunge right in confrontationally
into a bottomless pit of calumny
remember to count to ten again and again
ramp it up to a thousand, don’t pretend
if you’re still hot, don’t plead that you’re not
or let bygones be bygones and all that rot
‘coz the chickens always come home to roost
when and if you’re still juiced
you just might slice that swollen face wide open, catsup-red
then hallucinate as into grinning spiders it is shhh-RED
*******
If the horror you've just read
fills you with naught but dread
Try not to lose it, jughead ~ pray hard
before you go to bed
~ Dr. Jack Ell
Momentous meteor shower of words
Plethora of metered color absurd
Rainbows falling to the ground
With syllable shakes and bobo refrains
Lamentable lemon sunsets of pain
Our God stuns with just one sound
Err not, for he certainly beautifies
Wing’d articulation of butterflies
Enchanting chanting with wings
Whilst poet’s tongue sticks to roof of mouth
Or bathes in blather of love toward spouse
God’s glory the angels King
Our word counts we treasure and lock up tight
Iambic or free we type up all night
Impactful the sun and moon
God’s trophy ascribed sans paper and ink
Multitude of stars show’d off on the brink
In sacred immaculate swoon
8/21/2021
Do not think me overly confident
Because I believe the obvious fact?
Do I come across as arrogant
Because I have thought processes you lack?
Do not yourself be as the ignorant are
Who buy into wild conspiracy theory
Or follow "leaders" who do not care,
Thinking only of themselves, so wearily
I find it sad you blather on unceasingly,
That you are convinced of dangerous lies
Which would undermine common decency
Destroy the values on which America relies.
Do you really think against all evidence
The 2020 election was riddled with fraud
Or are you searching for some confidence
In a thing greater than yourself to applaud.
Have you asked yourself recently how
You can make your country great again.
What is your motivation for acting so now
What can you hope in desperation to gain?
GOLD MEDAL WINNER
"Create a Theory" Poetry Contest
All Poetry - October 19, 2021
I think of my sexuality
The same way I think of chemistry class:
Pretty often,
And with a definite air
And complete and utter confusion.
I believe I had exactly one day
Of sexual conviction-
I came out to my boyfriend,
Sort of,
And I posted repeatedly on the Internet-
But it didn’t take long
For my questions to come back.
How do you label yourself
When you fall somewhere between the lines,
Somewhere murky
And perhaps a little scary?
The terms are all so complicated,
So unknown,
And all so very taboo.
We can barely get lesbians
On prime-time TV,
Let alone a bisexual
Or an asexual
Or, God forbid, a pansexual.
I’ve tried on sexualities
Like bell-bottom jeans:
They all sort of fit,
But none hug me the way I want them to.
I spent a few days as a pansexual.
A few weeks as a poly.
Now bisexuality is creeping up
Like a Peeping Tom in light-up Sketchers
And a singing Christmas sweater.
Sometimes, I’m convinced
That all of this questioning
Is just useless blather.
After all, a single label
Isn’t going to change my life.
I know who I’m not-
Isn’t that enough?
Sometimes, the desire to just know
Consumes my every thought
And I have to remind myself
That I think about kissing girls
Far too much to be straight.
1/7/18
"Radio"
Snippets of classic jingles ring diabolically in our brain
Converging good tunes for bad products
Their repetitive nature send shoots rattling and ringing
Over and over again, gee, have a little music with you commercials!
Morning shows ruled by the man/child
With bleeps and buzzers assisted by stupid honks
The horns that we hear on the road are secondary to this drivel
All good things must come to an end, but the bad things seem to live forever
Prattle comes to propose what they got is better
While their mothers actually cringe from embarrassment
Sensationalism is at its best as we hear it with frequency
Why can't they shut their damn clap traps!
Sipping our coffee, listening to the latest and greatest
Please hit me upside the head, yes, that's what I said
As DJ's can't play it enough, they are broken records
Or Disfunctional Jerks
The AM propagandists scrabble for words as well
Floundering for babble their mouths never go static
It's shameful to hear such political trash, too often recycled
Influential to the old folks who want to vote every day
I thought in many years of past, the radio was supposed to be harmonious
Giving choice singers the chance to put out euphonies
And pieces of dreamy pleasures in classical, operatic and such
Pianos in pianissimo, to revel in the somnorific sweets of Chopin
All I here nowadays is a bell
The one that tolls for them to stop
Because chatter and blather rule the air waves
I turn the radio off
I suspect in my feckless youth my folks thought me rather slovenly,
Obnoxious, averse to work and associated with dubious company,
But Air Force sergeants dealt discipline with lingo at times unsweet,
Convincing me that life is easier if things are regular and complete!
They taught me to hang my clothes on hangers all facing the same way,
With buttons buttoned and shoes shined which I observe to this very day.
I prefer button-down collars; my pants must have a crease and pleat,
Because you see, I insist on things being regular and complete!
The Caddie DTS must be washed and waxed to a perfect sheen,
And when dining out, woe to the chef who screws up my cuisine!
My lawn must at all times be the best manicured on the street,
Because you see, I insist on things being regular and complete!
My barber must see that my eyebrows and hair are neatly trimmed.
The barkeep must serve my beer ice cold with all the suds skimmed.
I like folks who keep their word, show up on time and are discreet,
Because you see, I insist on things being regular and complete!
I detest cell phones and the 'magpies' who on them endlessly blather,
Especially when driving or dining; they work me into a seething lather!
I reckon some folks think me an old curmudgeon and rather off-beat,
But dad gum it, I insist on things being regular and complete!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2015 All Rights Reserved
Inside My Head, My Muse Too Often Rages
Muse, please stop that raking inside my old head
and those stomping feet keep me awake too late.
I love other nights and your words I am often fed
even the scary ones about my coming tragic fate.
Know that this is not a raging and silly complaint
there is far more to me than madness and glue.
Yet too often your words, good words, they ain't
Set me to curse some of the wicked things you do!
How about that night you twisted my deepest love
added in words about my secret lustful thought.
Then the time you cried out, kill that damn dove!
Yes, tis' true my heart and soul you have bought.
And why can not I write one without your blather
are not my own brain birthed words fine and great.
No thanks, kiss you send is rejected, for I'd rather
you took long vacations and did not keep me up late!
Before you fly FAR away mad as a bat out of Hell
please help me with that dark poem, I am stuck.
Did I mention that I truly think you are so swell
No my friend, I'll not lay down in front of a truck!
Yes, you did toss into this write some sharp words
a strong positive you sometimes so generously add.
No, my aching head tis not full of old and lazy birds
I command that you now be sweeter and not so bad!
Hear me again, stop chattering and you just listen.
I want big stars, deeper love and words that glisten!
Muse, please stop that raking inside my old head
and those stomping feet keep me awake too late.
I love other nights and your words I am often fed
even the scary ones about my coming tragic fate.
Robert J. Lindley, 09-10-2015
Sponsor Name-- Broken Wings
Contest Name --Trashed #2
What to Submit?
Any poem entered in a contest in the month of SEPTEMBER that did not place. Please remove all other contest information from the poem.
Requirements:
Poem must have been for a contest judged in September (yes, I check)
Date written and posted
Your name
This contest noted , example, Trashed #2, sponsor, Broken Wings
No Honorable Mentions, although painful that is a placement
No poems entered in any of my previous contest (yes I have a list)
No poems written in - I Do No Know, that is not a form
No poems sexually explicit
I wander down a cobbled street,
sodden from rain, heckled by whispers
revealing secrets on this blustery night.
They bewilder me in a surge of confusion
far beyond the juncture of cursory fright.
If this is collusion to drive me insane,
I beg deliverence from their echoing disdain;
Are these callous voices reality or delusion,
taunting me to plunge into depths of despair?
There is no hope of suturing my wounds,
or to eviscerate my harrowed heart.
If I could expunge them from my mind
would that ease the grief caused by the thief
who's bent on ripping my life apart?
Whispers are spilling from invisible lips.
How they tantalize me with false accusation.
My emotions are bereaved by the goading quips.
It's a conceived conspiracy of fallacious blather,
repeatedly mocking me in condemnation.
They've branded me with hot tongues they wield,
burning scars in my ears. Chars that will not heal.
If only I could douse memory's flames. I'm curious
to know if doing so would eliminate this torment.
My body is beaten, slashed by blades of driving rain.
Like shards of glass each raindrop cuts
my skin until blood seeps from the crux of my soul
and life drips away in scarlet flux.
I am wracked with sobs, prostrate with weeping.
And still the hissing voices berate me.
My head is pounding from their petition of jeers.
but I've no confession to give, nor act of contrition.
"Not guilty," I scream, but they won't let me be.
A vortex eddies around my bare feet
and my breathing grows shallow as whispers fade.
Dawn's warm fingers reach out to comfort me,
breaching the darkness on a cobble stone street.
June 25, 2018
8 word challenge-1.Fallacious 2.Eviscerate 3. Curious
4. Bewilder 5. Plunge 6. Tantalize 7. Vortex 8. Scarlet
John Hamilton~host
~~~~~~
genes swapped
stirred by unbounded love
family is born
bound by filial bonds
maternal and paternal
relations emerge
love, caring, support
joy and sorrow shared alike
life's music composed
echoing through ages
increasing genetic pool
Malthus' theory
you, me, and Genghis
bound by familial ties
family tree thrives
culture, colors, race
babble, blather, and blubber
siblings world-over
~ 04 May 2016 ~