Best Booing Poems
A storm is brewing.
Humanity is itself undoing.
No common good are men pursuing.
Anyone who stand for morals we're booing.
All focus on taking.
Every taboo we're breaking--
Self-control mankind is forsaking.
Godless science accelerating, never braking.
Media families so amusing!
Gender lines deliberately confusing.
Their hidden agendas subtly diffusing.
Enough is enough is enough. Start refusing!
2016-04-16
Categories:
booing, dark, religion, society, technology,
Form:
In a tossing and turning night, to wake up I forgot
Never slipping from a series of perpetual dream
A strange situation over and again, escape I could not
In the fabric of this woolgather, I couldn’t tear the seam
A speech in front of hundreds, I yearned to scream
Standing in my underwear, my shaking voice was caught
Closing my eyes tightly, trying to change the theme
In a tossing and turning night, to wake up I forgot
Skating across the ice, I wind up to take my shot
I miss the net completely, letting down the team
I’m stuck in a roar of booing heckles, an onslaught
Never slipping from a series of perpetual dream
Shut these lids again, restarting in a shallow stream
Running with aching legs amidst a forest, I am shot
A hunter hovers over me, to finish his prey I deem
A strange situation over and again, escape I could not
With the bang I take off again, sprinting on the spot
There is no ground below, I plummet from a height extreme
Anticipating the collision, pinching to change the plot
In the fabric of this woolgather, I couldn’t tear the seam
Is it over? Am I out of this self-induced figment regime
In a jolt and thud, I reach the cloth of bed that I’ve sought
A sigh of exhaustion and relief, I’m all out of steam
Bedding and pillows askew in the chaos that I brought
In a tossing and turning night.
June 6th, 2022
A RONDEAU REDOUBLE POEM Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: L MILTON HANKINS
Categories:
booing, dream, night,
Form:
Rondeau Redouble
An alien landed in my thoughts today in the form of a gnat,
Right on the paper, it happened like that.
Not bothersome, not a worry at all,
Not big or fat or two feet tall.
Which is sometimes what happens when I see
An alien from Planet X, Y, or Z,
My mind is ready to grab any idea coming to me.
I look down for an instant, and she is out of my sight.
I flip on my reading lamp,
Springing forth some good light.
There she is, what is she doing?
She is tormenting the dog,
Who is booing and hoo-ing.
Should have been the cat, then she would have met her match.
The cat would have eaten her in one quick tongue snatch.
I watch her in disbelief, as she flips around, alien from planet X.
She yawns, and she preens, and she stretched and she flexed.
Alien Sweetheart, come give me an ear,
Come over to the paper, you can sit right here!
But she giggles and wiggles and scurries away.
Tinkerbell? Already done.
Alien seemed like a bunch of fun.
Wait, inspiration,
Come back! Come back!
But she has gone, sneaking out a small door crack.
Categories:
booing, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Rhyme
Two opposing warring factions, meet upon the AstroTurf
Battlefield, in the sporting arena of Victory or agony’s defeated,
Warriors of the pigs skinned javelin, tackle each other at the
White lines of collisions honor, marked by the numbered banners
Of the fifty yard kick off point, yielding unto the pillars of the
Goal post of champions!
In the heat of battle these heroes of gladiatorial games, called
The NFL, thrill and chill their fans to the inner bones of the
True sportsman living within all us, born in this great nation,
Known as the U.S.A.
In this victorious field of dreams, no illusionary visions exist,
For these powerhouse gentlemen, gain each footings sacred
Ground by athletic skill and sheer raw brawn!
To the meek goes the booing of the fumble, to the strong
The million dollar playoff championship, cheered on by their
Ever loyal crowds of adoring fans, whom are enthroned by
This sport of endurance and strength of will!
In this modern coliseum of champions, no touch down goes
Without a standing ovation, or Styrofoam’s thumps up signal
Of approval, in these concrete surroundings this is truly a time
Honored sport of traditions, to be remembered in the
Historical records of the future as a classical game,
To challenge the strongest of athletes!
Golden are the rings given as victory’s insignias,
But in the hearts of the players and their loyal fans,
The price of the championship game is worth the cost
Of every single ounce of sweat and exaggeration, shown
On this epic field of battle!
As the crowds roar, with excitements thrilling kick offs
Point of the triumphant, field goal point scoring, their
Human wave of appreciation, is set at the release level
Of thousands!
In the homes of America the volume levels of the cheering
Is off the ratio scales charts, as chairs go flying backwards,
And Bowls of snacks explode everywhere, for the winning
Play has just been committed, and the championship team
Takes the final center field of the victorious!
Hurray for the great sport known as football,
The American sport of champions has again earned
Another season of splendor in the turf war of victories,
Behold our favorite pastime, may this pigskin colors never fade,
As our flag shall forever wave, for this is truly the great
American sport of athletic skill personified!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Categories:
booing, america, football, imagery, imagination,
Form:
Free verse
Movement up and down the ring
Story lines made for entertainment
Competing for golden belts to display with pride
Stunted choreography happens inside and outside the ring
Wrestler and divas favored by many fans
Fans cheering and booing for who they like or hate
Face or heel is what wrestlers are all about
Categories:
booing, character, hero, men, passion,
Form:
Free verse
IT WAS IN A RACE
FOR ACCOMPLISHMENT
AMONG , I WAS IN RACE
AMONG THE HEADS FOR SUCCESS
SOME SPECTATORS BOO
SOME SPECTATORS WOO
SOME ATHLETES FELL
ON THE TO SUCCESS
THEY DANCE TO THE TUNE
OF BOOING SPECTATORS
I DANCE TO THE TUNE
WOOING SPECTATORS
DESTINATION , WE ARRIVED
AND FORTUNE SMILE ON ME
Categories:
booing, courage, dedication, devotion, dream,
Form:
Concrete
an earlier draft of this barely satisfactory missive ex post facto, i chomped asper with upper dentures upon evincing a couple of typographical errors, in up rye or draft, and did not wanna dodge being a spell bound stickler for typing words correctly.
though no obligation to trot out this fixation sans zero misspelling tolerance, a compulsion with any concomitant obsession found me reposting before a repast of dessert - so there Ghost of Marie Antoinette, wherever you might be hiding - i can have my cake and eat it too!
Minus trimmings and over stuffed ego freezers,
but altruism, civility, Dharma bum ethnocentrism,
gratuitous homogeneous internationalism,
karma mosaic opportunism, quitessential righteousness,
unpretentious vivacious wide world yipping,
brouhaha dutifully emphasizing friendliness,
antithetically booing critical, popularly pugnacious
spoiled trump petting uber western yikyak,
zealous antipathy craving everything.
---------------------------------------------------------
a hypothetical, mental, rhetorical thought question
occurred to me just moments ago
sans, milk of human kindness bubbles frothily
upon major American holiday,
whereat figurative bro
thar and sisters exhibit philanthropic
good-samaritan charitable ambitions
especially, towards indigent that crow
for bare necessities
other than
when Thanksgiving rolls around, and dough
nuts to dollars even most frugal misanthropes
play feigned charitable card egoistically glow
with ambient benevolence, civility,
diligent energy, and friendly hello
and sundry pleasant greetings
hook hood be some
soon tubby rich entrepreneurial stranger
ready to make shares available vis a vis IPO
Categories:
booing, culture, food, house, joy,
Form:
Epic
A man unpresidentially known for the showerhead
Msholozi, the man in charge of singlehandedly running a nation into crisis
With him at the helm the public anxiously watches as the state of things degenerate
The rand has slumbered, corruption trivialised and unemployment popularised
Numeric’s play trickery on his unknowing tongue
And in his mind’s eye rules of grammar are easily ignored
Unpopular for his uninspiring speeches and refusal to obey protocol
A man who unapologetically lives above the constitution without fail
Without resolve he spends his term in office under the guise of ignorance
A generous man whose time is easily spend trying to resolve crises in countries outside our shores
He gets to lead a life of privilege without burning a sweat
He carries on blindly without taking any responsibility while the rest suffer the consequence
The unjust Msholozi hypocritically lives above the law but expects others to obey
The threat of prison bars didn’t hold him down because his connections served him right
A smart man with a dedicated entourage of followers to defend his malice
From the safety of his chambers he observes like Big Brother leading a nation to its downfall
As things spiral down he generously extents the rope to which the economy hangs itself
Cynically he laughs off his critics while the believers fan off the opposition
He doesn’t get his hands dirty since willing volunteers fight his battles
The booing and anger from a nation divided never unsettles this comrade
Without shame he takes merit from the achievements of others
He doesn’t worry about his endless failures since his inactions are blamed on the past
After all, he’s a diligent leader living in a utopian valley where all his citizens are satisfied
He sees no wrong, hears no concerns and does nothing to improve the nature of things
An unscrupulous man who dishonourably musk’s his failures by claiming what others have earned
At the sound of his voice the martyrs who selflessly fought for this freedom turn from their graves
Hi puppets continue to defend him like a messiah filling his silences with bombastic defences
He’s set in his questionable ways and is undeterred by motions of no confidence
Like the mafia his enemies are harshly eliminated from the face of politics but friends handsomely rewarded
Categories:
booing, anger, corruption, deep, freedom,
Form:
Free verse
4/1/17
Flowers blooming
Spaced out or in a tight-knit grouping
All around things looming
In space objects still or moving and zooming
Birds pluming
And other animals grooming
Downloads queueing
Electronics in need of a rebooting
Or powering off, to enable cooling
Below, on and above the roofing
Toxins spewing
And other particulates polluting
Some of which are made for fueling
All weeds were removed by uprooting
Trees and bushes getting a pruning
Especially any areas that are drooping
There's just no excusing
You'd better stop snooping
And assuming
As well as tooting your horn
Or ridiculing the poor
What the hell are you fooling for
When deep down, you know you could be doing more
Ocean life caught by fishing poles, harpooning
Or cage using
Die hard fans rooting
Or booing
Times of booming
And continual losing
Certain insects and people cocooning
Humans continually feuding
Suing
And fuming
As if there is something they want to be proving
Major scale jobs, including
A lot of or very specific tooling
Drugs and alcohol others may be using
And possibly abusing
In the right conditions, water pooling
Near and far from any rocks protruding
Live a life of your choosing
Continue pursuing
Knowledge, and ways of improving
With or without musing
By: Dalton Ogletree
Categories:
booing, poetry, rap, word play,
Form:
Rhyme
When I was still rising, from east to west
Little I got it, my old ones tough
They asked how much, the soil plus shelter
I thought but bit, all for my laugh
In the highest school on earth, where readers joke
Every color of wickedness, and integrity- mock
Amina he parks called, like a sheep tail I went
I thought I should laugh, and later I giggled
Shortly after orientation, the wads had waned
Some moons upwards, the title became little
I firmly be phoned, I loosely received
I thought I laughs, later a Beatle
I then began to scratch, to cough to sneeze
No just in the booing, holding a rock to cough
I drained out the starch, so squeezed the sneeze
I though was a laugh, but a thought wa' stuff
I thought shu'd think, to ask first what
The smile ever dodged, and the laugh feigned
The new pages sunk, for the doom wa' smart
I thought right I sighted, until it wrote red
A time I danced gone, a chance to laugh faint
A mirror to watch sad, a monster chews now
Before to rest at home, until in the taint
I thought was ma laugh, until I breathe last
To conclude my last, in a way so nasty
My way I rather say, brief brother tough
My last I see real, my I open in hasty
I thought am seeing, but to write and shut
Categories:
booing, death of a friend,
Form:
Didactic
In the Year two thousand and seventeen
athletics world certainly got a jolt
something they shouldn't have ever seen
defeated hero, the amazing Usain Bolt,
eight men over a short distanced battling
for a gold medal in the world championships
beaten by athletics villain, Justin Gatlin
jeering and booing from sad people's lips.
Gatlin may have won race and gold medal
spectators all over the world ready to revolt,
not willing to support an athletic rebel
especially denying hero, Usain Bolt.
Categories:
booing, anger, celebrity, world,
Form:
Rhyme
I uttered an authoritative groan as he let
go of my hand
This was it
Never ever was I again going to stroke his
cheeks or fondle any other art in his
glittery body
I wanted to run away as memories
spanked my mind
The pain was lethal furious,eating my
every part
Showing who was mightier
This man had spices,such that had no
names or shapes
His tongue was a troublemaker, tasting
norms only God knows
Enslaving me, making me obey,
Obey to his ruins and whimps all day,
See I worshipped this kind of beauty, this
fine-textured lust
His passion was a poison I gladly and
willingly took
Pain and sorrow playing at it best
But God knew better for this embedded
love or was it a fore-play and the rare bit
is here nah?
But I played in the pain thrill embracing
the warmth, the beauty of this drama
As he nicknamed me names but best was
BAby Ema
So I rode in this wilderness bowing at his
feet
Swimming in romance, teasing my king
It was fun, I was alive and it became clear
With this kind of heat is why men exists
To carve and scatter my intestines, his
every pinch was like nourishing in the
feets of heaven and dancing in the skies
of Mercury
But now I was here hot and steamy, my
nipples were dancing and whinning to the
sun rays
And the hiss of my steam was ramping to
a singing voice
And all I could do was to watch him
disappear
I was dying to throw away my multi-
billion stained dignity
Cause his body turned out to be the most
expensive at that moment for me
I was ready to marry the golden outfits of
sin and be a love freak
I was feeling buds of bliss and banners of
missing booing my knees
Questioning me, asking me to rip my
jeans insanely for a quickie
So I closed the easiest thing, but opening
and closing my eyes was the deadliest
thing,
He was gone in a sec
I watched myself melt away in the juicy
desire of wanting him
But it was over
He had said it yesterday, our last night
together
That was the last of our best.......
Categories:
booing, absence, addiction, adventure, body,
Form:
Romanticism
Ailments? Purim Cures 'Em!
Down 'N the Dumps?
Simcha smoothes most lumps,
What's Simcha? Briefly, Shared Joy,
As more 'tis shared, less there is to annoy!
Trade a warm feeling, return a smile,
Rids everyone of at least some bile.
Together, we overcome trouble,
Synergy! Life expanded, unconfined by the bubble!
Purim practices include:
Mishloach Manos; Friendly giving gifts of food,
Booing Haman; Rejoicing in justice coming to a bad dude,
Related in reading aloud the Megillah, a group "Thrillah",
Purim Seuda; a common meal festively "Imbues Yah",
Matanos Leveyonim; gifts to the needy do truly cure,
Giving does more to the giver as to the poor!
Adar, name of the month, a "Roller Coaster" journey,
When Spring, time of green health inspires, "Arise from your gurney! "
Assuming Disguises; In Adar, nothing is what it seems,
7th Adar, Moses born & died, joy & grief in reams,
Even in Persia, Esther becomes Queen, a saving surprise,
Ailments? In Purim lies a cure! Mirth & birth reprise!
Categories:
booing, friendship, fun, happiness, health,
Form:
Rhyme
A tale of two twins ...
Kit: That sure was a mean swing, Dottie. You knocked it out of the park. You’re the Sultana of Swat. I love the way you ‘round the bases doing your cute duckie trot. I love how you stand on home plate, kissing off the booing fans with your sour whispering asinine talk. You sho’ can swat high nonsense spitballs a lot.
Dot: Aw shucks, Kit, you Putin a smile on my face. But it ain’t me really. I just do what you coached me to do. Follow your lead like a good sibling pup pet is suppose to. I can’t help but wag the pig tale. Everybody knows that bare bosom greed sells. Now sis, you know I never vote swing and miss. I just love lip-crushing abetted ayes. Sending those lying spitball kisses flying high. But half-truthfully, girl I love the wet way you dry hurl. Such vomit velocity ... sending that propaganda puke spinning thru the air with such speed. You’re so lassie Vladdie bad amazing.
Kit: Yeah, twin ... we in a beleagued of our own. We don’t never do no wrong, at least none that we personally have to disown. And the Lady Bolshevik tag-team pocket profits are gonna stay kompromat strong. As long as the I-scream flag vendors keep selling the popular patriotic yellow snow cones. I love hearing the synthesized, trumpy anthem blaring sound, when the seventh-inning ruble donation rally hats are being passed around. It jacks me up, to the Nth lobby Molotov degree. My oligarch strong arm do a Siberian burn meddle poll vault sales pitch; delivered decibel stealth low, and so slow curve icily.
Dot: Serve ‘em up good, twin. Twist the grin like Papa Lenin said: “Never let a capitalist sucker get a free lick. Always snatch the purse from a paper chasing hick. Always foxy scoop the golden laid eggs from a sleeping, loose-liberty chick.” All bad things come in good corrupt Communist time. This czar fate injustice demands. I love the smell of democracy peanuts roasting in the ballot stands. I love hot, dog day debate fry cries doing the mustard squirt dance. So beleaguered and bland. I love the pretzel, fixed victory feel of cash register chance. I love being the pink champagne torch lady wearing no morality pants. Slyly, safely sliding home, skirt up ... silver tongue tush fanning kicked diamond sand. Giving a darkside-of-the-moon kiss to the loser Americans.
Categories:
booing, baseball, political, satire, word
Form:
Prose Poetry
I lay in this mess bored
Like I’m half torn
Before I was born
I had to press forward.
Live deceives you
And think,
What’s in between blinks?
It’s not a manner of speech
It’s what deceives you to think.
What makes people meet
the people they want to be,
or friends under sheets
It's fate honestly.
Regardless how long,
the same people can see
that something bigger than them
created this recipe.
This is meant to teach
the reader,
it should,
every person who breathes
Lives to feel good.
You're young and you're free
and you hang out with me
but you have this disease
I'd take away if i could.
Hang onto to family
and I'm not gonna preach
but your destiny
is with who always stood-
up for your story
I know it's corney,
maybe boring.
but my intuition speaks
wisdom to rhythm
so it catches you for me.
And think on this;
can you afford to eat
if you were left on your lonely?
if not
follow those
who can feed more than their own feet.
You're a growing diamond,
ready for polish
but step back,
and take advice,
this isn't just knowledge.
It's what I've seen change brains
from the hustle to college.
you think I'm speaking from success
but i'm speaking from falling.
I'm speaking from the mess
people cleaned up the best.
You're not finished yet,
you have a soul that you kept
So search the depth...
and find yourself at the bottom amongst a ship wreck.
And with that
swim untill you get breathe
win untill you get checked
come back a little smarter
take their queen on your fifth step.
I don't know tommorrow
I barley know today
I kept you awake,
to save yourself from the pain.
A hard lesson learned,
but it initiates the change.
Don't follow dragging footsteps
better face away
take a break from walking behind
zombies putting hate in their veins.
If you pray
just pray,
you can face the stage
and tell the audience booing you
that you were meant to stay.
It's creates a strain
on the mind,
well what I mean to say.
Is life
can be confusing
when you keep it the same.
It’s what makes your brain rotten
Why we stay forgotten,
I’m running out of options
It’ll kill us if they spot you.
You're a hostage I’m pretty positive.
But here’s something better;
We can build where we lost it.
You’re a rose that grows from concrete,
Tupac’s on to it.
Categories:
booing, addiction, beauty, corruption, i
Form:
Rhyme