Best Churlish Poems
Upon those who yield to anger, I should take pity
because words they spit are like sandpaper, gritty.
A loathsome temper causes them to fume and fret,
sometimes churlish ones spew what they will regret.
Restraining venom is an idea some are unable to grok.
Fury is the key to a door they have no right to unlock,
for they seek revenge when it is not theirs to take.
Hissing like the demon who was disguised as a snake.
It's amazing to what lengths their bitterness will go.
Look into their eyes and you'll see their malice grow.
A hostile fire-breathing dragon is an ignorant beast
who will spend all its time eating outrage at a feast.
They wear the weight of vitriol like a boa of albatross
when it should be thrown away. In the sea given a toss.
A temper makes foolish ones lose all sense of reason.
They may even betray themselves in an act of treason.
Rancour can be an anchor that drowns them in the sea
if they cannot cut the chain that would set them free.
It's evil to prick as a sharp thorn in someone else's side.
Irascible people are those most nice folks cannot abide.
If they continue to blow on smoldering embers of a fire
they will be burned by the contentiousness of their ire.
They should douse all glowing cinders within their soul,
to loosen shackles of angst and keep anger under control.
I could pound her head against a brick wall
or find some modicum of logic to install
but those would probably do no good at all
for she is filled with bitter anger and gall
Do these words portray someone you know
If I could change her attitude, I'd make it so
the world would have a much brighter glow
hold me back cuz I can't take much mo!
I've seen a few others who tried enlightening
but her mind is closed, her heart tightening
her audacity flashes like forked lightning
she's so churlish and stubborn, it's frightening
Sometimes I've stopped and wondered
As I write from day to day
To spread ones wings and fly
And let the anew have their say
There are so many horizons
In the distance of our lives
To spread ones wings and fly
Where new writing newly strives
Audiences abound our globe
Where fresh learning's can be found
To spread ones wings and fly
Maybe there's a common ground
Topics to capture young thoughts
Like fantasy and the dark
To spread ones wings and fly
It would be churlish not to be a part
To write and grow with tomorrows kind
Is to enjoy the enriching road
To spread ones wings and fly
And settle into a new abode
Writers and poets so
Are to be read, and to aim for print
To spread ones wings and fly
And capture the readers glint
Sometimes I've stopped and wondered
More so, very recently
To spread ones wings and fly
And to find where ones writings to be
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/writing.php
You Fall ...
the ground of your reality dissolves in this
stream of distraction, this inconvenient passion
the mawkish pop music you mock
is now singing your story, as
your thoughts, your breath, your blood
all consumed by his eyes, his voice, his words
all the moments of his notice of you
painting your gray paper with extrinsic purple
and lavish green, filling your thirsty cup
with intoxicating attention, until time
is measured only by your meetings
You Stall...
hitting the invisible, inimical wall
penalized and ostracized
for presuming the right to ask why
for waking from complicit worship
for retaking your will and your mind
for staining his golden idol
with faith of the atheist
You Call...
for all his proud proclamations
he is a needy, greedy child
your adoration is his sun
your life force he feasts on
disenchantment is your release
from the prison of submission
his hollow heart, his churlish charm
all merely a false alarm-
9/10/18
Trochaic Pentameter
My love's spirit's gentle like a breeze that
blows cool o'er this my brow, most hot, feverish.
I am made calm by her presence like at
times when discontent doth make one peevish.
She is children's mother never churlish,
meeting needs with day to day devotion.
Seen ne'er showing disposition surlish,
lady having no bad fractious notion.
She doth ease all banes with soothing lotion,
wipes away hurts life delights in bringing.
Problem solver, lessens my full portion.
Oh hark! Listen stranger! My heart's singing.
Gentle spirit, loving mother, my pearl.
These and more are seen in soul of my girl.
“Philosykos”
Coerced I was enticed to enter their incohesive world
my mind bleeds like black currents aross the water-colour page
forming strange language electric messages l’eau papier imprints uncompleted
sparks form and burn through the walls of churlish Eden to the outer existence
the inner world of freedom, naked and open, I’ve become Philosykos
I strip the bark down
love notes written
kisses tasting like Eden’s sweetest
hand-fed mindless figs with mercy
teasing juicy red apples
undressed like an envelope
naked and open
Candide Diderot. ‘25
“In Greek, "Philosykos" translates to "friend of the fig tree". This name is derived from the Greek words "philos", meaning friend, and "sykon", meaning fig.”
“As ink soaks into a sheet of white paper, shadows emerge. Worlds are invented. L'Eau Papier celebrates the power of the imagination – that moment, suspended in time, when ink, paper and the hand become one. In L'Eau Papier, white musks are delicately faceted by an accord of rice steam, evoking the grain of the paper. To these are added luminous notes of mimosa, while a backdrop of blonde wood tones grounds L'Eau Papier in the material itself.”
"Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden"
Wenzel Peter, (Karlsbad 1745 - Rome 1829), oil on canvas, Vatican Museums
"The Garden of Eden with the Fall of Man or The Earthly Paradise with the Fall of Adam and Eve"
Peter Paul Rubens, Jan Brueghel the Elder (1615), oil on panel,
Mauritshuis, The Hague
I looked up the word 'boor' in my Funk n' Wagnalls to verify the truth.
I found that, "A 'boor' is one who's ill-bred, crude and somewhat uncouth!"
I find boors obnoxious and inconsiderate jerks when they flaunt their gall!
Their disgusting, rude and churlish behavior nearly drives me up the wall!
I detest loud-mouthed youths (and adults) who I suppose vie for attention.
Their total lack of respect for anything is beyond my comprehension!
Their public display of putrid language is offensive to others' ears.
Free speech is fine but public vulgarity could be reined in, it appears!
My eyes glaze over when gasbags bore me with trivial conversation,
And don't get to the point and babble on and on without cessation!
In a fine cafe why don't boors stifle cell phones and let people dine in peace!
Their chattering is akin to a pair of magpies or a skein of honking geese!
Teenage boors practically make love in malls that is offensive to many others.
Aren't kiddies today taught be a bit more discreet by their pops and mothers?
They tote their boom boxes with 'music' blaring throughout the 'hood.
I'd like to tell them where they can shove those things if I legally could!
I loathe smart aleck boors who tailgate and impair my driving vision.
Don't they know this lack of common sense is apt to cause a collision?
I reckon I'd better wind this down and not bore with further dissertation,
But no doubt by now with boorish boors you can sense my frustration!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 5 in Linda's "I'm Bored With_____" Contest - May 2011
Punishes without any crime committed!
He makes individuals abye the amiss of others.
He could be a lifetime durance to one's soul
The victim walk flaneur like dead poles.
Their anguish cries only heard by them within their raptured souls.
Society turns deaf to them...
Scared in their own circumstances, hiding within the rolls of their hems.
He makes them scared, scared of their own shadows.
He is churlish... Yes! very despicable.
He makes them wear the same cloak day in day out!
In his world, they are Junoesque ready to be nursed by suicide
The monster sucks out life from them as if subscribed to a dementor!
A heart wrecking routine they go through every second.
Whoever created this barbarian should be a diet for maggots live!
Labels are plastered all over them by those dear to them,
Pretension is the only mask they possess...
As he makes them to dissimulate their true emotions from the rest of us.
He ensures they are belted on their unfriendly beds in a mental asylum
A wicked giant he is, making them lifeless and useless!
Wish they could be awarded with pure Horcruxes to memento about the dulceness of life again.
No one wants to taste that dementor kiss,
They did not choose to be in darkness!
He forced glorified mornings and bright days out of them.
Caliginosity took the limelight,
Like owls they live...
How cruel could you be?
Depression!
By LeboGFaith Samson
A rhetorical question finds me asking
(to no one in particular) why I recall
the names of grade school teachers
approximately fifty years ago (whose
names listed below), when the need
to retrieve necessary information due
ring examinations (less time ago)
often found me seized with sudden
inability to remember any vital ants
sirs (even including my name), thus
grudgingly handing over blank test paper
analogously surrendering a vital
document gracing terms of defeat
into the scaly claws (zen nay), sans
first to sixth grade Precambrian relic
(Missus Batson, Missus Rittenhouse,
Missus Wells, Mister Stout,
Missus Shaner, or Miss Rinderle).
Invariably majority of first thru
sixth grade accorded accredited
ancient authenticated creatures.
They freely exercised diabolical
churlish beastial animalistic zeal
us yakking, wickedly unprintable
upon (unprincipled urchin) at
receiving end of fiendishly grue
some hellish instructions. Assign
ments buttressed with ultimatums
harkening back to Jurassic period
earlier in dawning primate con
sciousness. Lesson material kindled
with justifiable license in league
with garnered insignia. Heft
to bring pupils to heal predicated
via warp and weft woven wonder
fully. Wrought writs welcomed
whips with warranty whenever
recalcitrant ruffian refused
respecting reptilian rubric repre
sentative rattling (The Idler Wheel
Is Wiser Than the Driver of
the Screw and Whipping Cords
Will Serve You More Than Ropes
Will Ever Do), which loosely
rendered regularly warbled
wishy washy verse curmudgeons
freedom granted to interpret
as one decrepit, hawkish insignia
certified one beaming Eve and/
or stud deed brute soffit. Education
often relied on the weekly reader,
and letters to and/or from Aunt
Emma. Nefarious mean linkedin
kickstarter jawboning torturous
treatment tolerated, asper imps
of the pervert, mutant Ninja
Turtles duty bound antsy
youthful yokel yodelers
weathering ululating sing-song
and quintessential precepts.
Alien Messiah
A recital of miserly contastrophists
led by a figure of churlish meanness
speaking rhetoric of the pacifist
maniacal god complex of fierceness
chorus
pledge allegiance to the alien messiah
like Caligula, a self proclaimed living god
power hungry deviant like Allah
with grandiose gestures mollifies the crowd
no iniquity into his spoken words
His hellish plans he now boldly avowed
the mad man in the house has sole control
chorus
Total disregard for black letter law
driven double speak of the deceitful
Iron fist tyrant We should of foresaw
Orwellian society now pitiful
Chorus
Perversely satisfied with global order
mask comes off in this toxic atmosphere
like black death from an exploding mortar
a menstrual rainbow society is here
chorus(2)
Out of the pot of Nature's Heritage we were created.
The taste of originality to savor, such novelty to behold.
Fearfully and wonderfully adorned with a spirit nurtured as a replica of our being.
A magnificent culture of beauty who have under-taken as a task,
In the misconception of thousand ways to keep such aesthetics alight.
Rather than lived out the beauty of our souls,
Focusing on the weightier matters, are fastened on outward frivolities.
Baked earth marked with easy simplicity and freedom from artificiality.
Rather left a congenital appearance to be remarked, remodeled and redesigned with embellishments.
Who can find a virtuous woman, for her price is far above rubies.
Consider the great beauty in the heart of the Queen of many Queens.
One of Esther, a fair and beautiful maid of whom the royal crown was placed upon her head.
Bore and carried upon her shoulder the pains and burdens of her people, travailed much but overcame.
Abigail, a woman of good understanding and a beautiful countenance with graciousness,
Averted the mischief wrought by Nabal her churlish husband.
Reflect on the beauty of the courage Deborah seised, serving as a judge to the Lord's people.
Fought in the face of danger as Sisera was sold into her hands.
Contemplate the amount of love Tabitha a woman full of good works and alms-deed possessed,
That even at death her folks would rather she lived again than lay helpless to death.
Ex-cogitate the excellency of the fulfillment of everlasting covenant,
The lord established through a seed from the barren womb of Sarah.
Ruminate over the determination of a virtuous Ruth,
From a low estate Mary, blessed among all women of whose seed is the king of kings.
A chew-over ambit an acquisition of a quintessential perspective.
With just a swirl, she flirts with you-
brash churlish curves in surly sway.
At morning’s blush with mist infused;
her dress unfurls in rose tinged gray.
She flirts with you in surly sway.
In midday sun, her tresses – teal,
slyly tossed from bend to bend.
She wakes in you, a puerile zeal,
with every wink her cascades lend.
A puerile zeal, from bend to bend.
A pas de deux, to you she bids,
in undulating moonlit swells.
Pied pirouettes - charmed hearts amid;
immerse your soul to feel the spell…
To you she bids, to feel the spell.
Manassian Quintain - Poetry Contest
11 Jan 2015
Nutty grandpa president
is talking crazy uncle Donald again
His little Chucky thumbs
is tapping epithet tweet nonsense
Batty grandpa’s been
grumpily sucking
on the hate hot sauce bottle
stashed in his KKK closet
Now he’s sporting a Commander-in-Chief cap,
dressed in a wrinkled birthday suit
Churlish grandpa wanna blow the nuclear candles out
in his Oval padded room
He’s trying to smear his coconut-frosted
pejorative German chocolate cake
on every African looking face
Calling Doctor Strangelove and nurse Annie Wilkes Misery,
bad Grandpa is verbally pooping all over the place
His anti-social, mood swing meds
is scattered everywhere on the bed
Nutty grandpa prez
is a stable genius he says
But his schizophrenia behavior
is open and shut caged rage ... Jekyll and Hyde
Hannibal Lecter ... American Gothic suicide
Old Grandpa says
young women love him like Frankenstein’s bride
His paranoid soul
got a misogynist itch
in it’s nether parts
Curmudgeon grandpa claims he’s really rich,
and has an Ebenezer Scrooge heart
Nutty grandpa prez don’t like no immigrants
who came from where he ain’t
Straight jacket truth wraps him wrong,
he loves to swear that he’s no saint
Crazy grandpa just wanna roam the West Wing halls at night,
cursing at everybody left and right
His angry autocrat ticker just wanna be dictator loved
with family suck-up sniveling loyalty
Cuckoo grandpa flew his nest egg eyes over someone in the staff,
whose nurse Ratched mirror image greedy
Nutty grandpa president just got another person fired
for improper cleansing backside kissing
And the raucous din,
rising from the voter base-ment,
means it’s electoral shock therapy time again
So lock the border doors —
keep it dissent quiet, dum-dum
Czar grandpa prez don’t like all that democratic noise
Silence of the lambs,
that soothing lullaby hum
Is the sweet sound
that calms his Joker tweeting thumbs
Rest your rage, nutty grandpa prez:
Uneasily snore deeply,
wearing your Mad Hatter MAGA brim
(keep having more troubled, neo-Nazi policy dreams
of Making America Great Again)
As the White House hospice staff is issuing
M.A.S.H unpatriotic greetings
to Parallel reality refugees
seeking insane asylum ...
Welcome, to the Oval Sanatorium
I wonder how it whips the zephyrs that flee
In a churlish yet blissful den
Throttling though the gushing of glee
And seized a million mirth like a wee ben?
I wonder how the flowers bloom
In a precise moment of a single day
Glaring it's beauty to the groom
Whom she pleased all the way?
I wonder how a tyke titillating
In a shallow way of enjoyment
As nobody could cling
Even for just a moment?
And how I wonder to a damsel in distress
Who trapped into peril
But a knight in shinin' armour caress
Rescuing decisively with a thrill?
I feel the zippy breeze of cold December
Creeping up to my veins the sensation
Why thee to remember,
Yuletide season with applause fascination?
Aristocrat, oh my dearly!
Amending my appetite of love
Trampled my primitive sanctuary
And animate me like a dove?
My glistening eyes on you
Gnawing the fear deep within
My coy heart sough,
You're my inspiration in this domain.
Amid the abyss that divides us
With your finicky type,
And vile manner you showed
I grope but a love without gyp.
As a college student I'm old enough
To spill out one word as I vow
You build me authentically tough
Tossing the allurements that sow.
Murmur of my voice you listen!
Come to my dale words of word
In my studies you are my inspiration
The Romeo that dispense my world.
It is a wondrous thing how fleet-
was he on those heavy steel shod feet.
With what a beautiful flowing grace
he oft would gallop and race,
then stay, then run again, and stay,
and call to me to chase and play.
He was agile more than wild hinds,
and ran as if on four winds.
He had a meadow all his own,
but now with weeds so overgrown,
that one certainly must guess
it to be a patch of wilderness.
And all the spring-time of the year
he used to love to frolic there-
among the clover leaves that spread,
but they now too are gone to bed.
And these churlish days that give aid
to dull loneliness have made,
this place an object of neglect,
walled about in disrespect
with false portals of light-
that bring more sadness than delight-
contributing their hurtful share
to the season of my despair.
But this too shall pass somehow-
and this place again allow-
a day that will spring gladness,
from the very gall of sadness.