Best Cheap Trick Poems
I want you to want me
.....you only want me when you get to decide
I need you to need me
.....you are independent and don't need anyone by your side
I love you to love me
.....you love me one day and not the next
I'm begging you to beg me
.....the concept of begging leaves you perplexed
**************************
You now want me
..... I found someone new who wants to be with me all the time
You now need me
.....my needs are now fully met, I'm now blissfully sublime
You now love me
.....I found someone that loves me truly every day
You now beg me
.....a little too late is all I have to sadly say
We had a garden gnome named Griselda
the bane of our small bungalow
she was nasty and mean, at times quite obscene
the worst that you ever could know!
Her garden mate, Gregor, had feared her
but one day he mustered the nerve
with all of our backing, to send the girl packing
with cleverness, cunning and verve.
But she was vindictive by nature
and wouldn't let 'bygones' be gone
if it took all her years, she would stir up our fears
her plans were all plotted and drawn.
She waited 'til we'd quite forgotten
her villainous, vile, evil reign
then with fierce aggression, she took bold possession
of our lovely, dear, docile domain.
She poisoned the pansies and lilies
and shredded the sweet climbing vines
she disturbed my repose, when she broke the windows
with a shriek that sent chills up my spine.
She tore down my front porch swing
shattering the flowerpots and planters
mad wreckage in her wake, as she sought all to break
taking off to the back at a canter.
I squared off to defend my back garden
grabbed whatever I thought I might wield
at first, on my guard, as I entered the yard
I found she was hardly concealed...
And 'though she seemed alone in the garden
I soon found that I was mistaken
for, succinctly put- I was bound head to foot
and carried off, unhurt but shaken.
Griselda had built quite an army
it seems, in her time far away
for gremlins and trolls, from the caves to the knolls
were under her terrible sway.
They answered her orders directly
and smugly, she smiled and she smirked
a gleam in her eyes as she planned my demise
as her minions continued to work...
Heaving in stones from the quarry
they were piling them higher and higher
and my strength gave away as to my dismay
I saw they were building a pyre!
But Gregor'd escaped all their notice
as he'd hid 'neath the back garden shed
and despite his wee size, he would prove her demise
at his bellow, her company fled.
He used a cheap trick, an enchantment
that he bought from an old witch named Rue
and it seemed there were thousands (as far as the eye scanned)
of Gregors that came into view!
Her face was distorted with terror
and she promised that she'd stay away
and off like a blip- she jumped on a ship
and sailed to somewhere near Bombay.
moved around so fast
outran traces of my past
contacts I'd amassed
with little hesitation
lost sight of situation
not stabilizing
life without compromising
'til next uprising
left holding tight to what was
searching out the next just cause
tangled up in lies
slim prospects can agonize
tear through the disguise
certainly no going back
when all planning goes off-track
some beliefs abide
because of truths which they hide
past acts they've denied
everything and nothing count
souls each taxed by right amount
my own mother's faith
premise easy to forsake
seemed too profit based
afterlife but a cheap trick
fake carrot attached to stick
relativity
defines things differently
with more symmetry
increasing agility
throughout the totality
time a state of mind
often used to try to find
nature's true design
of a mass always the same
yet constantly rearranged
where do we reside
in universe vast and wide
peer out from inside
closer to edge than center
current knowledge can't render
dark skies filled with voids
the cosmologist enjoys
and black hole destroys
this universe more or less
is chock full of nothingness
science lights the way
to where we headed these days
bits, bytes, down runways
send voyages toward Oort cloud
seeing how heavens are plowed
ride the bleeding edge
with data mining we dredge
what Einstein alleged
learning even photons bend
in order to reach their end
Penelope Alecknavage nee perskin whose death aye assay
to comprehend, this son of the late Harriet Harris -
November thirteenth 2016 marked her eighty first birthday
if she still lived these last eleven years - instead met crossway
where grim reaper awaited - though my mum sought to delay
futility to accept Pyrrhic outcome - homage pep rally
thru poetry n essay
writing, and finding cadence of words
helps me (with powder milk biscuits)
gather courageous foray
and means to grapple with demise
of a loved one, and hence my gray
matter sifts thru childhoods' end,
where remembrance of hooray
amidst claque of chattering aunts, cousins, and uncles
the fuzzy interplay
of Penny racing at dog speed across lawn of family home
cordoned off via a jackstay
looms in forefront of my mind,
vulnerable to grief most people sad - me, oh kay,
reckons cessation of life = equalizer of sorts
when significant person without breath doth lay
Tom foolery deft hands of motley crue prestidigitation
playing game versus sobbing as corpse
driven to graveside viz motorway,
where belief at such stark catastrophe - nay
numbness pervades next of kin survivors
especially when passing occurs pre-holiday,
yet no matter whence one departs
bobbing along River Styx to unreachable quay
mourning iz broken with nary sunny and Cher full ray
to warm earth, wind and fire - seeking soul asylum,
trying to blink away ill logic cheap trick re: acceptance,
but inxs of tears for fears begs scene 2b screenplay
not hard rocking coldplay accursed reality
terminal illness ushers helplessness cuz part of ourselves
agonizingly rent asunder, which psychic tearaway
far exceeds any physical pain, and will underlay
the immediate future, which bodes hollow
with the sounds of silence
despite informing musicians or veejay
to lighten moody blue -
boot invariably bono fide, green day,
Lady gaga emitting beat,
per the human league (plus the culture club
of heart felt village people affiliated with goo goo doll
traversing into nirvana)
creates clangorous discordant ringing
increasing nostalgia for loved one lost before yesterday!
when on a lark, this primate shut his eyes
until sight formed slits doubling up as a wink
this earthling stared hard and scrunched brow
unintentionally mimicking,
the familiar Auguste Rodin statue
likened to a pose when one doth think
perhaps said captive pose pondering
(similar to me) about life on other planets
while I stared at lunar surface
akin to a disc or dime sized skating rink
awash with luminescence
and imaging himself whisked away
by an alien, synonymous
to the peculiar millions miles distant pastische
manifested entity than didst slink
a non hue man feline looking cat in the hat
comical creatures decked out entirely in pink
soft halos conjured up saintly mink
or...a far fetched thought suddenly
came to form in my mind,
that this har creature a found missing link
whose nocturnal glowing facade exploding charade
possibly a message
or motion nothing more
than routine smoothing out an anatomical kink
on front and back oh head resembling
a Doctor Zeus characterization,
viz a harmless rat fink
hm...maybe a vestigial progenitor
of former birth by Gaia now extinct
though from afar, the b52 shaped being
aye espied as fur ball affixed
with a long elephant like snout to drink
and appeared to lack occipital orbs,
yet evinced possible mode to see via a chink
impossible to restrain me noggin
appearing to nod and blink,
--------------------------------
hence entranced my attention fixed
from faint (perhaps a feint)
flickr ring meant as playful faux
role playing lunatic humorous acting wry
impossible to decode explicit antics
(of spacial cosmic guest),
no matter eyes nearly shut tight visual
wondering if non verbal communication
of mine correctly interpreted
meant to kibitz and vie
despite impossibility to validate,
a continuous effort yours truly did try
fixing thy gaze, nee straining
with alm aye might to esse spy
if cheap trick concocted entire visage,
which might not constitute life form
(admitting this chap to prevaricate,
and be full of baloney),
himself prone to confabulate
(dropped one to many times on the head)
when this rocky lunar image,
a moon scape comprising nothing
boot ham and cheese on rye.
Variations On A Theme...
Ach'n (ache Ken) Existential Struggle...
(NOT by Bellini, Paganini, Rossini...
Eeny Meany Miney Moe - si,
nor the three stooges tee hee hee)
twill never end till...this oft writ trend
of mine will never end,
only when...mortality
ike'n no longer defend!
Thus...once again, (or...as per usual),
this poem iz a boot
ruminations about bout,
who else except this ole coot
at das receiving end damned
lifetime role, and goot
raw end of deal, sans docks side of
moon efficient intervention
(teachers never gave a hoot)
as they appeared oblivious,
how moost all classmates did loot
mine emotional account, viz
cheap trick super tramp ping coot
tees reviled, renounced,
and wreaked havoc as root
of all misfortunate previous
to mine existence,
as iced (sic culled) hood
reaper remained mute
and scythe lent,
while (cue in dolorous)
melody issued from
Mose Arts magic flute,
whereat serpent (also known
in political circles as
Sally Salamander Newt
Gingrich) charmed goaded,
and relentlessly needled
Eve with snake hushed snoot,
thenceforth viper got ramrod
rigid taut as jute
of course this a fallacy as
just smore hove my fruit
fully "FAKE" pre fabric hated
discombobulated trumpeting ill suit
head prevarications – more
offal than glute
tee us expulsion, donned
as invisible faux poetic
apparel clothing with astute
cheeky effects, thus allowing,
enabling, and providing
adapt tub bull usage as zoot suit,
or as space age jumpsuit,
when I travel (with my cute Malamute
outsize prairie dog like fine home
companion) to the outer limits
of the twilight zone,
which groovy farout signals
detected by vodafone
and desperate plea made
to aliens to abduct me
(receiving an affirmative
digital binary tone)
courtesy of publishers,
unlike the negative responses,
predictably forecast, no complex koan
but clear as day -
inducing a slight inward moan,
which figurative slap in face
finding yours figuratively prone,
hence...a recurring well known
fantasy regarding plucking
this chicken (198920) heart lee
moss see rolling stone.
Noble Macbeth! Perverted by a scheming wife, Oh sorry fate!
So write the critics ,mainly men, but you, Macbeth, and I know better.
She was the fourth witch who brought home the message of the spectral three.
She was the helpmeet of your choosing who spoke out what you dared but think.
Yet noble you were, like Lucifer, lord of the false dawning light,
And proud you were as he who scorned Creation for being not his.
While they who love continue creation, grow fruitful as the vine,
They who hate are barren, must hate the seeds of life and wish their death.
So with you, the vanquished of Banquo’s seed, whose death was life.
You have one weapon yet, to mock what you cannot beget,
To declare all vain, an illusion, a cheap trick, an idiot’s tale
Though you named “King” do wear the gilt-rimmed crown, I hear your end’s approach.
I hear the rustling of leaves, and though you hang the herald of truth
On the gnarled trunk of a dying tree, green leaves and fresh wood advance.
To the hill they come to close you up and cross your vain ambition.
Where died a seed a plant shall grow whose leaves shall heal the nations
It was the second morning of “daylight savings time,” and the change was noticeable.
My BF Peter has a doctorate in applied physics, he's an expert, so I asked him, “How do they move the sun?”
He gave me one of his patented, blank looks, “What, who moves the sun?” He answered.
“Well, yes,” I said, “I suppose the “who” is important, but HOW do they move the sun? Peter can be dense sometimes.
“What are you TALKING about?” Peter asked, his head tilted in confusion.
I explained, “It’s daylight savings, ya? The sun is different, SO - how do they move the sun?”
“They don’t MOVE the sun,” he said, in a smug "I've got a PhD" way, “people set their clocks ahead an hour.”
I was stunned - Could it all be a cheap trick?
How, (I snorted in my mind) could they get everyone on earth to do THAT?
I didn’t argue, but I didn’t set my Apple Watch ahead or my laptop, or my desktop, or my iPad or Alexa - his “apotheosis” was obviously wrong.
He’s a new PhD, they just haven’t told him how they do it yet. I can wait. I patted his hand for support.
Peter also says that, out there in the “multiverse,” there may be an earth where I don’t have homework. First of all, isn’t it just like a guy to believe all of that “marvel comic” stuff?
“So, Superman’s real then?” I asked. He just lowered his head - burn: I had him there.
Secondly, can he get me/us to this planet “No homework?” NO.
Applied physics may very well be useless.
.
.
Webster: Apotheosis: a perfect example of something
**I used this incorrectly on purpose (crossing heart) I swear.
the moon commences its' illusion
it rides the crest fully
survivor of Roche's Limit
survivor of human prediction
filling the night with shadow
my early morning walks
the light in the distance
calls thru canopied jungle path
the setting moon
stepping on the soft white beach
where a silver highway plays
in the rippling water, i am
the human past who long ago
beheld such a sight
without the shaman's cheap trick
nor the cold touch of science
have accepted the moon just is
beautiful to behold
we let each other be
we are one and the same
dancing thru the universe
and when this is no more
we will be lip to lip
i do not know what God is
and have no such need
yet whatever it is
it is magnificent
the heavens live to die
and in that death
life finds itself again
my wishes, mere mortal longing
that so might i
even Rimbaud capitulated
the reprobates' fear of reprobation
and i have but one question
before the empyreal throne
is there in heaven, a moon
Norma's roof Santa Cruz 95
spoke kin like
a true non establishmentarian.
Wily wordsmith wields wisdom and wit
renders requiem welcoming thee to visit,
no matter foisting poetic riffraff (mine)
necessitates applying figurative tourniquet
to staunch potential
life threatening hemorrhage
oozing out fifty shades of
your gray cerebral moon unit,
thus best be extremely cautious
heed warning to preserve
self interest and quit
while ahead, i.e. stop reading
and surreptitiously exit,
now lest noggin contents
rendered into pureed blivit
causing irrevocable damage,
now just for fun grab
amusement park ride ticket,
and picture yourself
in a boat on a river
squarely bobbing along...
barely staying afloat
courtesy soaked sponge square pants
within skeletal ricket
tee skiff analogous to
time warped white picket
fence forever lost and seasick
out of desperation imploring malefic
powers that be while moored thick
within (think) Scylla and Charybdis
not caring a lick
despite super tramping cheap trick
worse fate than death,
where metaphorical flick
finds one human flotsam and jetsam (ye)
violently sucked into realm wick
head witch, which
in toto along metaphorical yellow brick
road nsync cues soundcloud
faintly reminiscent of Herman's hermit
mid nineteen sixties approximate
time Beatles made mop top headlines
both bands selling
one after another smash hit,
where half crazed lasses frenziedly
screamed and threw maniacal fit
activating advent of groupies
they made nun sense sickle habit
to shadow many rock and roll band
initially majority identifying as Brit
nowadays global musical hodgepodge
synthesized linkedin with fitbit.
A quick and easy (makeshift, albeit very temporary)
Cheap Trick would suffice in the interim
(which might entail many generations)
to rock a Super Tramp off The Farm.
Lo and behold a panacea arrived
in form of Jethro Tull. Beastie Boys
(more or less marauding hooligan gangs
comprised of Arctic Monkeys)
possessed an uncanny verve zeroing
in on the challenge to enable Crowd
source sing. They designed, hand
crafted, and linkedin all known know
ledge about mathematics and physics. One
contrivance edged out other equally
farcical gizmo. Via some lack of clarification
Badfinger referred both to the longer
of two needles pointers plus included
the entire mechanism. Individuals
would no longer find themselves
in Dire Straits getting someplace
with markedly greater accuracy.
Sooner or later a confluence of
beginners dumb luck witnessed
a Motley Crue, whereat brainstorm
(of course in tandem with consciousness
expanding material) yielded a great
burst of inventiveness within The
Human League, though after end
less modifications credit for
the handy dandy blues clues
pocket watch allotted
to a plethora of anonymous minds.
Aye haint gonna mention anyone by name,
and git myself poisoned
with deadly tocsin, a most wick
kid demise act of vengeance cheap trick
boot Mayan tent to write this poem,
a message came tummy mind rather quick,
and fuel a contrived rumor hoop fully
spreading like wild fire
from this nada so sainted Nick
juiced for pure sport and to kick
start and spellbind denunciatory, deprecatory,
and derogatory unfounded slander
toward one country bumpkin,
who lives in the sticks of Hick
ville, and unfortunately
shares the same body as me,
an old curmudgeon full of (lix) spittle,
with lovely bones that crick,
thus, while spur of the moment whim arose
(take bull by the horns
asthma late grammar used to say), aye chose
to hash out matter of fact playful verse,
while ma doppelganger doth doze
and trump scathing "FAKE" news expose
zing ambivalent (nee loathsome)
punishing sentiments
ach'n ma heart
with daggers of icy sin tax
directed as rhetorical linguistic floes
vicariously experiencing euphoria,
red hot poker glows
within the scabrous, tenebrous,
and villainous haughty yahoo
an unprepossessing, quite,
and nattering kooky human
immune to voodoo
he coon sitters himself smug,
throughout every single sinew
of his (and mine) corporeal essence
directly descended
from storied Machu Picchu of Peru
yet his (ah, and mine)
suppressed genealogy branch
also includes, an a meow
zing small percentage of Neanderthal Jew
evidenced by genetic test 23andme,
which helps explain primate characteristic
dragging (sic) hairy knuckles,
where thick callouses grew
thus aye conclude
(just in the nick of time
as he who must not be mention) drew
a breath upon awakening
from a nap bright tailed,
and bushy eyed anew.
Heard them preaching from their pews
As you glanced up at the clock
That there’s safety found in numbers
So you’re following the flock
Into clubs and bars and bedrooms
Gone by morning, leave no trace
Work the night shift nine to five
Got to keep up with the pace
Body swinging like a pocket watch
It’s amateur hypnosis
Every cheap trick in the book
For a positive prognosis
The dancefloor throws a pulse
Creeps up stems through marching feet
Propaganda screaming lose yourself
But don’t get in too deep
A creed of contradictions
Heard you chant it in your sleep
Feel your body lose momentum
Trade your soul to feel complete
Electric halflight, static darkness
Sticky glasses, sticky hands
The struggle for debauchery
That etiquette demands
Smoke and mirrors, dull reflection
Face is blurred, your skin is wet
No time for introspection
What you see is what you get
Less is more and more is less
I see London, I see France
Forced invitation, insincere declination
Thanks, but I’m just here to dance
A creed of contradictions
Heard you chant it in your sleep
Propaganda screaming lose yourself
But don’t get in too deep
Well tell me how it feels
Things you held sacred sold so cheap
Baby, time to grow a backbone
Lose the crawl and find your feet
Yeah so find yourself spine
Before you find you’re in too deep
It seems highly unlikely that Snyder had time to do reshoots after the fan backlash against spoiler-laden trailers. And yet, after virtually giving away the ending of the movie (that Batman and Superman eventually make up and fight Doomsday with Wonder Woman), the film-maker clearly needed a big final plot twist to ensure fans don’t leave the cinema feeling cheated.
That the film pretends to kill off Superman, when we all know Henry Cavill has been cast in both Justice League movies, feels like a really cheap trick. Showing General Zod’s dead body in trailers, by the way, also made it pretty easy to predict that the genetically enhanced monstrosity Doomsday would be based on the dead Kryptonian. OK, the creature also has some DNA taken from a few drops of Lex Luthor’s blood, but really, who cares?
http://copernicusmarketing.com/copernican-news/service/batvsupanfree-batman-v-superman-dawn-justice-online-free-putlocker/
Circa April 17th, 2120, or 1820 military time,
yours truly attempted crafting id est feeble rhyme
far from madding crowd, nevertheless yet lovely
bones and flesh quite spry, still considered prime
(moost procreative, prodigious, and progressive)
stage, since (case ye didn't know) approximately
eight score orbitz round Earth's sun still noontime
chronologically analogous to protracted lunchtime
whereat the average offspring jetson or (daughter)
Born twenty years into twenty second century alive
and well (still hashtagged as precocious) with drive
to safely, sidestep, and surmount establishmentarian
archaic, formulaic, and mosaic Judaic/Christian give
wry master of words (me) take poetic license to jive
reasonably rhyming nope heart tickle early misthrive
moost definitely dirty deeds done dirt cheap (trick)
super tramping space cowboy lobbing power-drive
re: frequently innocent prelapsarian double entendre
(Jean Jacques Rousseau) Noble Savage he doth strive
even though hanky panky tinged entire his/her story,
Homo sapiens animal husbandry hastily did wive.