Best Conniver Poems
Clean cut; people clean cut.! Well styled suits, groomed to impress we gel well
in success, success reads so well.. Glitz is the goal WOW the 'surface' the substance.'
Cut so clean.' free standing see you all & now; how i'll stand not bow..
Yet my whole truth? there's another side too, so today oyay.. Oyay.'
When I knew I'd been cut.! I felt the keen, clean cut after I saw blood
Felt its wet slick flow.' the air hit me cold then I felt the blades touch..!
I slipped into the gutter, feeling shock in the fog; a fog of de'je-vue
How was made that clean cut.! Cutting away my humanity; tearing up
the deal struck with me, going to a better source its just a buisness
of course.!
So back to the stage, to a new charge who'll be groomed.' To the clean
cut scene, and sin.. What then its purpose? & Is it always to subvert us?
I take note of its action, can I repel its attraction? it starts blunt as a weapon
that over time starts to sharpen, with indifference it hardens, reminds me
of bad times, of my ancestors whoredom; drudgery worldly serfdom' of
the chains I am wearing, the pain deeply tearing pushes me deep into drown
Become aware of the driver; satan the conniver who through this whole
gamut, is 'himself' just a marker a 'pawn' shades of darker, whom you will
use should it please you, if you want to show us who's who.' So when we
sop ourseleves deep in.. In the oceons of a worlds sin, we will be turned to
our insides? will we tire before we expire? fed up to our backteeth of sin & its
mis-chief.? become ready for redemption; Clean cut from the marle of the mire
Cut from the cords for the fire, when sin has outworn us before death 'is' to call us, of one thing be certain, Jesus rent that great curtain.. Faithful & True
He beat down deaths sting, so forget now your mis-givings to call on Jesus the mighty, call out now contritely.. From the the heart of the humble, from a soul that has stumbled, become 'in Him' to rightness one more spark in His brightness.'
Categories:
conniver, jesus,
Form:
Verse
He kept tabs on me at first, just like he was a stalker
then turned on his charm and became a sweet talker
I was too naïve to realize why he was being so nice,
and all the while his duplicitous heart was cold as ice.
He led others into his lair with all his trash talkin lies
and they fell for his garbage. They wouldn't criticize
anything he fed them. They continued to do his bidding
and I laughed at them thinking, You've got to be kidding!
Wise up to his disguised friendship, rubbish, and rubble.
I'd love to be the one to burst this charlatan's big bubble.
Forgive me if you think that I'm being harsh and too crass,
but this conniver needs a few good kicks in his deceitful ass!
If any of you reading this want to offer me a helping hand,
we could throw him in a dumpster by our popular demand!
If not I'll find a clever method to expose him on my own.
His crap needs to be flushed away as he sits upon his throne.
7/16/2016
Garbage Contest-Anthony Slausen
Categories:
conniver, character, truth,
Form:
Rhyme
Non descript hedge rows sculpted into ornamental animal
via botanical artist wielding pruning shears and chain saw
carved, limned and sculpted with wrist wrought voila uber
prestidigitatiously head turning botanical picturesque Sun
kist animals at an exhibition transformed miraculously via
Te Deum divine fist bumping, whence realistic fauna burst
alive with an explosion of colorful twist and shout of foliage,
where scalloped superfluous detritus manna for naturalist
deciduous detritus capacious carpet boar animation punk
chew waiting groundswell Liszt ghost would arise from the
grave to produce magnum opus without a beat missed such
shrubbery mimicking the likeness sans glistening fleshy sin
yew, and gist about ready to become bone a fide (green be
hind the ears) thriving vox populist, per species and genus
wrought thrashing into birth as delicate craftsman promised
to imbue life, liberty and pursuit of happiness whittling away
leavings, thus did exist the nascent then omnipresent visible
entity emerging from cocoon an herbalist metamorphosed
from the imagination of a skilled, practiced and mentalist
conniver viz extracting the initially obscure blessed beast,
where with august magic wielding tools of this specialty vis
a vis bringing breathing manifest destiny ala Pinocchio (trans
formed from wood to flesh), whereby finest dexterous
chiseling blistering hands baffle onlookers as coterie of
topiary harvest breaths mind bogglingly astoundingly
authentic rooted ready to frolic in the grass menagerie
a gamesome group of linkedin live progeny, the Michel
Angelo of dirtiest canvass, an earthen tabula rasa of sorts
where application threshing re: electric cool laid ahs hid
test brings out chlorophyll doppelganger green hued key luster.
Categories:
conniver, appreciation, art, beauty, creation,
Form:
helpful or harmful
MacGyver or conniver
~ spidey-sense tingling
7/15/2022
Senryu (for you)
Image by Mark Toney using canva.com
Categories:
conniver, confusion, trust, truth,
Form:
Senryu
Our golden retriever, is a golden conniver
Knows how to act all cuddly we've discovered
To get what she wants
Does her little dance
So appealing, really difficult to admonish her
Categories:
conniver, dog,
Form:
Limerick
I am the God you think you know
Conniver of creation
Maker of heaven on the ground
Accepting aggregation
I’m alone and I think you know
Consolation won’t survive
Creation nor destruction
Nor breaking of resolve
Nothing alters this equation
You’re the god that you don’t know
Master of creation
The stallion knowing not its strength
To gallop through salvation
©dbyrne sept 2013
Categories:
conniver, god,
Form:
Free verse
Many years ago, I was in a down-heartened funk, after deciding to get a little bit drunk.
Beer guzzling queens won’t tell you, but liquor tastes bad going down and coming back up is truly no joy.
Some will tell you how great drinking liquor makes them feel, happy, and wonderful. But they’re full of bunk
Being wasted, angry, crying, and a bit mean is no way to meet any kind of a man or dating boy
And if you are completely silly, to hug, or touch or god forbid fore take in a sloppy drunk kiss
I must tell you the story of a naïve woman who got herself in a real pickle in St. Croix
If you are already completely wasted, and angry, and mean, this warning you will probably dismiss
This sordid tale of a girl, a boy, a golden pony, a red flute that laughed, and a shiny green Shamrock
The way this tale was told to me, by my gram, it entered my ears totally unbiased and Faultless
There was a pipe, and a honey bee, and a well-intentioned, prettied up edible pink and plump Ham hock
I do remember someone laughing, and a foot being broken, and a yellow three cent postage stamp.
There was a nickel’s worth of lead, and an angry man, and a princess in a lavender and pink Frock
The men crowded around to watch Trixie Lou dance, for she was a well-known, conniving, trickster of a Vamp
In my inebriated state, I can recall but one bit of the story that has any bearing now.
Grandpa’s dream girl was a devious witch of a woman according to Big Ma, a hard-hearted Tramp
Told by Big Ma, Trixie was a flaunter, a floozy, a conniver, a flute-playing nasty old cow,
She had pink cheeks, sky blue eyes, and she wore her red curls pinned with green shamrocks; she was all kinds of pretty.
This information was slipped to me in whispers by Grandpa, who considered Trixie a giant wow.
Categories:
conniver, 11th grade, 12th grade,
Form:
Terza Rima
I can still smell the disease,
and feel the starvation that brought me to my knees,
I didn't know where my family went,
In every direction us Jews were sent,
I still remeber the feeling of the shaver against my head,
And hoping everyday it wasn't my turn to be dead,
There was always the smell of death in the air,
And lonely cries at night claiming "this isn't fair",
The Nazis were sons of the devil,
They wanted everyone at their thinking level,
You could never go against them or ask them why?,
Or it would be your turn next to die,
We had to fufill their every demands,
Because our lives were in Hitlers' hands,
I remeber when I got off the crowded train,
I had terrifying thought bleeding through out my brain,
They sent me to the right,
I was so scared that I didn't fight,
To the left my family was sent,
I watched as Jewish bodies hit the cement,
I could not believe my eyes,
I didn't have time to let out any cries,
Because I was already getting lead and shoved,
But I could only think of the ones i loved,
Every camp was full of dying Jews,
They took everything, even our shoes,
I later found out right meant life and left ment death,
I'll always miss my mother father, and brother Seth,
I still wonder why I was chosen to live,
When my family had so much more to give,
How could one person do this to a whole race,
But in the end he's the disgrace,
In the camps we hardly got any water or food,
And the guards to us were beyond rude,
They beat us with clubs and whips,
It was actually worse than the movie clips,
We were a bunch of animals in one big cage,
Most of us filled with vengeance, fear or rage,
As you probably guess I am a holocaust survivor,
I witnessed first hand that Hitler was a manipulator and conniver,
This is a situation no one should go through,
And that's why I shared my story with you.
Categories:
conniver, historyfamily, family, me,
Form:
Rhyme
So what are we reduced to?
This dust in the atmosphere
Abandoned by all we're used to
We're no longer welcome here.
The pressure's building like always
10 feet under a sea of lies
Lurking in dark, murky hallways
Conniving till one soul complies.
This is what he is reduced to
And yet his kingdom somehow thrives
A nagging devil, by now I'm used to
Destroying angels and innocent lives
Temptations as prevalent as ever
But I'm on the rock - firm and sincere
No matter how cunning or clever,
He's no longer welcome here.
Categories:
conniver, desire, god, heaven, strength,
Form:
Quatrain
Thank you
Keith, Ernesto, Kristin and Diane
Thank you christopher and beyond
I love this soup
Richer than St Elizabeth cow peas
Mannish water or pepperpot
Poetry.com was a bubble in my history
Burst now
I love this family,
O Deborah what a gift
What a Caleb in your tongue
Carolyn sweet as a Irish violin
The little Japanese tea
Served in chinese cup
Thank you
Stacey, Denis, Lena
Karena
Children of a sweeter God
Muse of the okra tongue
Slippery as oil where inspirations run
Under the green sheet of the sun
Laurie, Karen, Brian, Sue
Stacy you too
Orishas of the river woman
Giver to the Shango
Brides, brethren, warrior crew
I am the twister, conniver
The rattle of the drum
You played me
And gentle too,
Lovers are givers and sweet water flows in sweet rivers
Thank you
God for these people, the candles
Of your fireflies
Thank you all for you.
Categories:
conniver, peoplesweet, water, love, sweet,
Form:
Free verse
Midst our covenant of trust and fidelity
I succumbed to luring temptation’s delight
As a faith-traitor, flirting with world’s enmity
Oblivious of my vow to love GOD fully right.
Guilty was I of betraying my Redeemer
Grieving Him, I confessed as an evil conniver…
Faithful*, He pardoned, drawing me to Him closer.
Meanwhile, in the trial court I stood as scam-victim
Facing the culprits, my trusted friends, in pain’s grim
Since they fooled our contract by their deceitful whim.
Struggling hard to accept their “sorry” with pity
I agonized bearing load of my justice-plight
Thus, I prayed to be a true “forgiveness-giver”
Grateful to God that I received His grace to the brim!
*1John 1:9 If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.
November 21, 2018
Edited on June 26, 2022
2nd place, "Forgiveness" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Anoucheka Gangabissoon; judged on 7/18/2022.
Categories:
conniver, angst, betrayal, christian, faith,
Form:
Rhyme
How Much of Trump
If a conniver
Can we be a survivor
From Trump and tall tales.
Jim Horn
Categories:
conniver, anxiety,
Form:
Haiku
I stumble
I fall
I cry to you all
as the tears roll down my face
Liar, Conniver
Sinner
No Beginner
my life goes to waste
A bullet
a rope
A knife and a pill
Misery be over…killing me still
Been up
been down
I cannot be found
as I wander in my heart
Been sweet
been cruel
Been breaking every rule
my soul falls apart
A toke
a line
A can and a stem
All life taken over by them
My excuse is the same
if you know what I mean
I’m an addict
God damn it I got a disease
No booze, no dope, no coke, no rock
clean and serene far from my block
Engaging still in my life of lies
Up and Down. Join the coaster ride
I think I’ll go to the doctor
I need to see what’s wrong
She gives me some pills and
Sends me Along
Categories:
conniver, addiction, anxiety, art, corruption,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
Our golden retriever, is a golden conniver
Knows how to act all cuddly we've discovered
To get what she wants
Does her little dance
So appealing, really difficult to admonish her
Categories:
conniver, pets,
Form:
Limerick
Trump Lacks Moral Fiber
Trump seems to think that he is a survivor,
When really having been definite conniver;
A real pain,
Even in rain,
Who always lacks any trust or moral fiber.
Jim Horn
Categories:
conniver, allegory, analogy,
Form:
Limerick