Best Buffoonery Poems
Bloom Road
Wherefore be this heavenly place?
Untouched by the metropolis'
inhumane demands?
Tis in your heart, dear friend, such
a place be.
Free of political buffoonery.
One must be a bold discoverer of
the heart.
For if not, Bloom Road is naught!
In the sweetest dwelling of your wishes,
Lies Bloom Road, and warm, delicious,
awaiting kisses.
Life is not an accident for those
with drreams.
It's an actuality that's both planned
and deftly carved and schemed.
Be off now, and the hunter be....
Bloom Road and thy keenest lover,
Are at the ready, just for thee.
August 17, 2020
Have you seen a better fool like me?
A dimwitted dreary buffoon like me?
Buffoonery has its limits, ridiculous,
But for me it's monotonous.
I never change,
I'm always the same, It's such a shallow shame!
Yes, I am the one to blame.
I see politeness wearing
A fancy pair of friendship earrings.
Who does that? An acrobat, a bubbly brat!
Who thinks that a polite chat
Is a friendship, this and that.
Then when people change
And they cut me out of their range,
I feel sadly strange.
When am I going to learn
And stop feeling the burn,
Stop making politeness turn
Into a glib friendship that's not even worth an earn.
Buffoon's bubbly balloon
Should be popped,
Buffoon should be stopped.
I am an open book,
Oops, a buffoon brook,
It's time for a new look,
And get myself off the hook.
The Internet or cyberspace needs you to trust it, even though embarrassing vulnerabilities will reveal your lack of wit.
Tech savvy users, ciphered chatting and risk calculus, reading the terms of service, as it could be the catalyst...
To consented digital surveillance, data-mining and analytical buffoonery, who can you choose to be if you are truly not free?
Cameras are everywhere, in the sky and in our pocket, accessed through transmission control protocol sockets.
The clear net is the internet minus the deep and the dark monikers, you can get high off your own supply of virtual encrypted liquors.
Download an app from any store and your identity may be stolen, by pirates with bad intentions, a wolf in sheeps’ clothing.
A sheep in wolves clothing, is software maliciously exploited, with he intent of hurting developers, hoping everyone will avoid it.
Now here comes the patches, updates and recommended use, just like substance abuse, addictive qualities will be produced.
Living among dead corpses
My creativity becomes stagnate
As I surround myself with
Dreamless adults never realizing
Their full potential in life
Witnessing generational leeches
Attacking the mind, soul and legacy
Of an unsuspecting youth
Instead of experiencing daily
Burst of DMT in his pineal gland
He is subjected to
Buffoonery, treachery
Tricked into selling his birthright
In Africa you were born
In deep serenity
To the sounds of mighty drums
And rhythm’s authenticity.
Stole you from your righteous land
Cut it up like a birthday cake
Gave it back to Anglo hands
But your birth was no mistake.
Hot sun baked your deep skin
In their souls your people knew
Down in the delta the cotton moved
By the ***** spiritual, you grew.
The teachings of gospel embraced you
When Abe’s 13th had you lost
When the choir called you responded
Learned you could share your talent, but at a cost
A burnt cork mask for the audience
Buffoonery and minstrelsy, Jim Crow and Daddy Rice
Exploitation in a racist Nation
Theatrical vice.
You got the blues
Had a melancholy mood
Broke down walls with the drowsy tunes
That free and rootless attitude
On the shoulder of Scott Joplin
Mesmerized with how his fingers played
Ragtime floats on running notes
In New Orleans your future lay.
The melting pot, jazz hotspot
Black people, white people, blue, and green
Creole heritage swirling all it meets
Street smart, fine art, everything in between.
Jazz is about freedom
You have to improvise
The band prides the electric ride
Sharing music with each other’s eyes
A jazz baby was born in the USA
Dare I say the American way
Day by Day by Day
A growing Jazz Baby played.
Visual 1
Earth does ballet to stay in shape
dancing before the rubbernecking moon
that chases us around the sun
making waves in oceans like our emotions
…for an obnoxious pet.
Mars and Venus are anxious lovers
who can’t cuddle in their king sized bed
because restless Earth sprawls wide between them
constantly turning, warm and feverish.
...but not like Mercury.
Mercury has cancer and a great tan from all the sun.
Puerile asteroids caper about the solar system
giggling and sharing jokes with the big galoot--
Jupiter is stupid, but loves a hearty laugh.
Poop and fart jokes are favorites
…Jupiter is always gassy.
Saturn is too discerning for such unrefined buffoonery.
She’s the hula hoop queen
…4.5 billion years and counting.
Loved by all, but secretly engaged.
Mopey, woebegone Uranus wears the other ring.
On their first date Saturn was pretty in pink and
Uranus smelled awful
…Jupiter loves that joke.
Still, nobody stirs up trouble like Neptune who
takes a three-pronged approach to everything
and made Pluto cry with news of adoption.
Since then, Pluto has grown
…quite distant.
All the while, the sun smiles a contented smile...
...and looks on.
05/28/15
Submission for Lexi's Art Contest
Hosted by: Mystic Rose
Bedeviled by those pleading eyes
deep as the secrets they chasm
captive as the questions one must surmise
and I, for your deliverance the ransom
"never leave me, my love, my friend"
spoken feebly as a prayer of little faith
In angst your heart once more bereaved
for true love remains impossible to erase
Traveling the road of never-knowns
your world abhorring to let go
granting time - that your soul not die
reflecting back an impatience you see in mine
There bewitched I stand in awe
nay, bend my knees at the epiphany of thy need
Persuaded to ignore once more the flaws
like every detailed dimension of a dream
Dare I surrender my disbelief, and wholly succumb your divination
hold tightly to your second sight
your prophetic inclinations?
for already by your augury - given you my life
Why hold back unwavering faith
as if now it's loss could be greater?
Perhaps my fate is better weighed
if our odds remain in your favor
My luck in love a chain-mail buffoonery
made of broken links and sparse longevity
Like a devil mocks hypocrisies charity
he so crushed my heart with stealth dexterity
So let it be said... you need me more
and that your love surpasses
For the art of love wears a mask of war
camouflaged in the art of stanzas
Whatever the spell enchantment cast
It began with one look in your eyes
has withstood the storms of assurances dashed
and neared forever with another guy
You were my present, then past, full circle and back
voodoo allure, a loves black magic
Bedeviled I say, held by your craft
your sorcerer's smile is a cold damp draft.
Is eureka the end or beginning
Of the epiphany, visionary
Astute eyes see past gullible spinning
To capture vistas extraordinary
The buffoonery of closed minds will scorn
Threats upon ubiquitous rigid views
Creation of the idea, unborn
May not attract empathy or reviews
Find your light in the night of depression
Unique patterns only yourself can weave
Chisel open the walls of oppression
Unveil your worth, be true and believe
Rise over the narrow vernacular
Let inspiration be spectacular!
Required words: eureka, buffoonery, gullible, extraordinary, empathy, depression, ubiquitous, spectacular-
5/15/18
joined poetrysoup on 2/25/18
first posted poem "Graduation."
His nostalgic wealth still stinks strongly on him:
The rusted gold on his neck and fingers,
Sliver cap he wears, they vouch for his past;
Lord Gaga was once a fabulous man.
In his fall ,Gaga becomes a dead gaint
And many call him a fallen angel ;
He now has followership in jestry,
They come to laugh at his buffoonery.
His calamity started that same day ,
The very day he raped his two sisters
Who later went to their father's graveyard
And asked the dead to judge accordingly.
First he lost his strenght and his memory
Then fire razed down his farms and his estates
The dead put hate between him and his wives
Who now with their children abandon him.
Today lord Gaga sleeps by the goat side
So everybody comes to learn from him
And when one has the trait of pride they warn :
Lord Gaga was once a fabulous man.
Kayod5
Iambic Pentameter
A fictitious character 2
Dec 20th,2014.
He, the almighty, is ubiquitous, an omnipresent force
Lilith, the first woman – made from Earth - defied him.
He, the almighty, held no empathy for beings like her.
Lilith, the first wife of the first man – despised him.
He, the Almighty, came to know fear –
The extraordinary virility of her witchcraft troubled him.
Lilith, the martyr – deserted the splendors of Eden
Her buffoonery - her egotism disgusted him
He cursed her, “One hundred of her children would die every day.”
Her agony - her depression thrilled him
Lilith – the first wife, the first woman – lost in history
He, the Almighty – deceived the gullible into idolizing the spectacular him
Lilith, the queen, infamously a demon, covertly a Queen.
Eureka! She is the woman of all women and the enemy of him!
DATE OF POEM - 05/29/2018
FIRST POEM - Never End 05-01-2018
Poems from the heart I encounter with blissful delight
Offering vicarious insights in this welcoming global poetry site
Exposing myriad realities expressed in artistic might
Taking my empathy prowess to the next level of sensitivity-height
Reviving my poetic soul to express what’s right in the light
Yes, I’m thankful to God for PS ad the privilege to write!
Seeing my poems published is indeed an extraordinary blessing
Opportunities for faith-growth drives poetic accelerator increasing
Up I mount toward poem-contribution with mentor-poets’ appraising
Pursuit for craft-honing, along word-skill harnessing
Endeavoring to learn in this community, I keep on pressing
Refreshed with fellow-soupers' posts, delightfully pleasing.
Elated am I every time my entry poem garners a place
X-rays of judges keep me poetically fit in the race
Propelled to prevail along N/A (nice always) cheerful days
Enlivened by words, penned with life’s breath-grace
Ready for corrections I regard as worthy praise.
In Poetry Soup, I’m nourished with good comments’ bounty
Empowered likewise to assert truth upheld by biblical certainty
Nursed readily by prayer against attacking distress and anxiety
Cheered up to enjoy life amidst buffoonery masks’ dainty
Enriched to share poems’ wisdom, precious throughout eternity!
Acrostic with rhyme
*Deuteronomy 27:3 And thou shalt write upon them all the words of this law, ...which the LORD thy God giveth thee, a land that floweth with milk and honey; as the LORD God of thy fathers hath promised thee.
May 15, 2018
3rd place, "New Poets Only" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Emile Pinet; judged on 6/12/2018.
Twisters unlike Supercala-fragilistic-expealidocious
Imagining dreams he was socialistically-unrealistic
Can you imagine an imaginary menagerie manager
Or try imagining managing an imaginary menagerie
Ev'rything can be satisfactch’ll for Zip-a-Dee-Doodah
Of course some make a hoo-hah over tiddly-boo-yah
Reggie’s chilly cheap chip shop sells Daryl a freak dip
Frightfully silly of her for, he flamboyantly let it rip
Her croaking Frog cost truly a princely sum of snobbery
Forgotten hopes, forlorn, besotted froglips of buffoonery
When the bleak breeze blights the bright blighted blossom
Betty beat a bit of butter to make a batter better awesome
Such a floozy to improperly expect a decent cup of coffee
I made it in a proper copper coffee pot, served with toffee
Later I saw Esau kissing Kate; at least me’ thinks I saw
The sorriest saw I saw was rustic on sawdust in Arkansas
Was it so extraordinary?
I fell for your buffoonery
You reach for me again and yet
I seem to lack the empathy
The one who brought me joy
Became the bane of my depression
The days when I was gullible
Spectacular to mention
Thinking of you now
Makes our time seem so iniquitous
Eureka how I feared you!
So uncouth and so ubiquitous
The time has passed somehow
And now we’re only stronger for it
5/13/18
joined PoetrySoup:5/11/18
first poem: Back and forth nonsensical
Eureka, a thought, a pause, a word unwritten, floats above him
A sign to this gullible soul, a warning, depression may soon strike
The poet smiles inside, no buffoonery here, his fingers tensed, ready
Brain alert, hands freed to strike the keys, to make language appear
He is not just a putter down of words, he lives inside an extraordinary world
Empathy, his spectacular gift, phrases shared to bare the wounds and pleasures of Mankind
Ubiquitous, should be the poet's middle name, his verse is truth, found everywhere
In mountain village, towering cityscape or humble home, the poet's lines are read and spoken
In them, his expression of love, of life, of folly is understood, passed from one to the other
Groups will gather to discuss, to share his thoughts, his written word
Black letters placed on paper, his inner songs spread to open ears and willing hearts
Imagination fired in others by the fingers of a solitary person, depression defeated again today
Admitted Poetry Soup 5/18 poem submitted 5/31/18
Well! That's a tall order I thought
perusing your extraordinary list
of words to include,
in poetry new.
Not, that I'm a stranger to
the odd eureka moment
I do freely admit.
Perhaps, you will be gullible
and kind
to excuse my writing buffoonery.
Just finished another rhyme
recalling childhood traumas
has triggered the old depression.
Please utilise your empathy
for I know this poem
is not spectacular
but hoping also
not ubiquitous.
13th May 2018
Joined Poetry Soup 2nd May 2018
First poem posted: DAUGHTER
Placed 1st