Best Contempt Poems
Oh the venom on these lips
cold fury should you
taste it there. Drink
deep my gathering gloom
quench your thirst for
my lies and my truths
and my muted thoughts.
Stand still frozen dead
in pools of wonder and
dread for this poison
that seeps into your
pores will not soon
leave the haunted spaces
your frightened places
there will be myriad traces
where it killed the
wonder it found in your
dull and dreary mind.
Choke on toxic thoughts
vomit my musings and
spit forth guts colored
black with doubt and
fear and torment stain
the ground with your
loosened purpose your
pathetic beliefs that
words are always intentions
of the noble and righteous.
I stand naked wrapped only in the truth
you vile, loathsome reptile.
My contempt of you is limitless
as I have been force-fed your hypocrisy.
Your postulations are lost on me
as my insight into your repulsive nature
is exceeded only by the palpable stench of your aura.
Eyes opened to their widest apex,
ridiculously lends support to your “jokerish”
smile overly exaggerated in a…
Carol Channing kind of muse.
It seems your purse a revolving door
to his wants, has an ideally broken clasp…
Your shoulder, a never ending
tissue to his every sorrow should be waterlogged.
Which stands to reason why your legs
stretched open as wide as the earth’s axis,
“she-doggedly-in-heat” sniffs attention from him
and remains open like an all night 7-11 just to
provide “respite” in the name of “friendship”.
You find joy in slinking and scurrying through
the misfortunes and/or gains in our life,
all the while professing your love to him
and masticating on a stolen covenant
you have orchestrated in destroying.
There is no sector of my day
allowing me peace and escape from your
treachery and continued debauchery.
Your hair once a mousy shade of brown
now waxes blond in your further attempt
to assure he remains suckled at your breast
knowing his lust for blond haired, blue eyed
women that are six shades lighter than my ebony hues.
There is though, an appellative to my anguish,
which recoils from my tongue at
any attempt to voice this rage.
Escalating anger marinates and broils within
my breast as your ubiquitous presence
in my life has finally left me little strength
and no shelter from the uncloaked
vicious pain searing me to the core
in this deep abyss I have found myself in…
Unleashed fury beckons me, reaching back beyond now
when day was night and night was only imagined
barely controlling this hate and
the exigency to extract myself
from this nefarious, cheap, vaudevillian
show, which no longer can be ratiocinated
through your insipid lies before I...
Can’t imagine your expending this much
energy with your own household or husband because
you’re always living and breathing in mine!
Contempt has a name…and its malodor is…Linda.
Having been on my own
for the past ten years
I suppose I am set in my ways
If I’ve no planned routine
at the start of each day
I just come and I go as I may
Awaking each morn just before dawn
I can go where my mood may take me
Disliking routine I meander free
to come and to go as I please
For now there is no one here except me
with my very own idiosyncrasies
Generally I enjoy my own company
Though from time to time
seeing friends and family
is such an enjoyable treat for me
But to have someone
permanently under my roof
It would drive me insane
send my soul in a whirl
as slowly my mind
and my body unfurl
At this juncture in life
I want peace and tranquillity
No hassle
No stress
No irritability
So when I have guests
I pull out all my best
Spoiling them rotten
as we laugh and we jest
But as the days pass
and our moods start to show
It is time to bid farewell
It is time for them to go
Or frustrations
raise their ugly head
and we may say things
we should not have said
So as the old adage suggests
Familiarity can breed contempt
and living too long
with family and friends
is how a good relationship
may come to an end…
Written 14th September 2019
Contest Strand Select U
Sponsor Brian Strand
3rd Place
Lining pockets with cash large and small,
Once found out, they return not one call.
But an amendment we need
to inflict on this breed
the same treatment that they give us all.
Lawyers supply inept legalese.
One while defending my Pekinese,
went into a stupor,
made one fatal blooper.
Stripped in front of the judge ridding fleas.
© Aug 23 2010 For Carolyn’s “Lawyer” contest
A lawyer once said, he could get me free.
No trial held, just a hearing you see
A traffic ticket was all.
My lawyer, so very small.
Not seen by judge, contempt of court, jailed me.
Anger,
it was all it took,
he merely tossed a disdainful look,
thwarted attempt,
the beast smiled with thinly veiled contempt,
he was bold,
his heart cold,
as the words were told,
and the beast stood in silence
just for a moment,
his hatred palpable,
he shouted,
as pain
screamed through him,
exploding the veins,
and his emotions drained,
he howled in agony,
he shouted in fury,
he cries,
darkness was his eyes,
death was on his breath.
Stepping outside the bakery, sparse trees danced in the late autumn breeze.
She set her cupcakes on the bench to don her gloves and snug her scarf tightly around her face and neck.
Jack Frost is certainly in the air this evening, she complained to herself.
Walking briskly to her home, she spotted workers making ready the outdoor skating pond, soon to be bustling with lovers of winter.
She noticed dark skies threatening an icy rain, though it was probably cold enough to snow.
Shivering, she finally scurried up her walkway to her porch, glad she was home to thaw out.
Sitting alone, she entertained a chocolate cupcake and cup of hot cocoa while watching the gloomy weather report on the news.
As the short day turned into a long night, she groaned at the sound of sleet pelting the home’s aluminum siding.
The local news ended, as did the last of her hot cocoa.
She crawled into bed, pulling the covers over her flannel clad body up to her chin.
Rising up in the predawn morning, she made ready for work.
As the wind howled without mercy, she noticed icy crystals had coated the outside of her home’s every window.
Her breath was taken as she stepped out on her porch.
Icy flakes of snow raged horizontally in the blustery wind.
The weather report had been accurate; the blizzard pounded the city landscape.
She trudged the half mile to work at the bakery, longing for spring.
August 26, 2016
My farewell trip to Iraq
Near six years kept my pact
The war’s not done, more work ahead
Two shoes fly right past my head
Here’s your farewell kiss you dog
Your mem’ry maybe these will jog
Think you’re welcome here, instead,
Two shoes barely miss my head
To end this war is our mission
Mister journalist for television
The world’s a safer place, I’ve said
As two shoes nearly thump my head
So what! He throws his shoes, but then
I’m glad I ducked those two size tens
If you want to feel the world’s contempt
Just become the U.S. President
I was carting horse manure in a trailer that’s on loan.
I’m driving on the back roads ‘cause I know that I am prone,
to be courting a disaster if I take a major road,
with no brake lights or blinkers and no cover on the load.
I took me time by driving slow but then uttered in disgust,
when I saw a blue light flashing in amongst the swirling dust.
No blinkers and no brake lights, and added to the cop’s report,
was the unsecured load and so I’ve booked a day in court.
This meant a day off work for the ‘bluey’ stated ten o’clock.
I dressed up in a suit and tie for me day out in the dock,
but as I sat back and listened at the cases being heard,
I was getting pretty restless - ‘cause the protocol’s absurd.
They said ten o’clock be there and when one o’clock had passed,
call goes out ‘its lunchtime,’ and so I gave the clerk a blast.
I told him I’m a working man and that he’s wasted half me day,
so how much longer must I be here, before I can get away.
The clerk didn’t offer favours and in fact he didn’t budge.
He mentioned quite sarcastically “Why don’t you ask the judge?”
So I sauntered back in to the court and waited for me turn,
and listened to the judgments that are handed down quite stern.
And then the call goes out for me and so I walk toward the dock.
The judge looked up and said “Hold on, it’s gone past four o’clock,
and then declared “Court is adjourned; I’ll hear your case next week.”
I thought, “You bloody rotten mongrel! I’ll give you some cheek.”
Just as the judge had turned his back, I let out with a spray,
“Hey listen here you goat, I can’t miss work another day!”
He spun around and glared at me, and with a sharp retort,
“I’m fining you one hundred dollars - for contempt of court.”
A hundred bucks! You mongrel … and so I pulled me wallet out.
The clerk scurried up beside me for what he thought that I’m about.
“You don’t have to pay it now” he said -
“I know you pair of nerds,
I'm just seeing if I have enough for two more flamin’ words.”
Cookie cutter words so
carefully cut and pasted
on me are simply wasted.
Their relevance defunct
so silent deaf and mute
someone else’s route.
This romances brevity
couldn’t even warrant
a freshly cut torrent.
Thoughts on you only
today are freshly writ
not from another’s skit.
Your cycle oft repeated
new color same game
please shame and blame.
Faded far from view
a barren desolate land
this love’s final stand.
Pain is public domain
burn your copyright
cliché it into firelight.
Blank page tattered torn
crumpled piss-stained
empty promises drained.
Program pre-recorded
tired hackneyed phrases
sung too long the praises.
“the lady doth protest
too much” said Hamlet
then she knew her fear
just ask Shakespeare.
(click on the pic to buy my poetry book!)
There didn’t have to
be a reason
no one thing
no trigger
it was always boiling
just beneath the surface
always.
It could have been
the number of soldiers
lying empty on the desk
next to the ashtray.
You know the one
the one that left
the two scars
the one into which you
stamped your anger
hostility
hopelessness.
I could always tell
in the car
Adele’s playing
the hours will not pass
quickly
it will be a long night
a call to arms
a call in the morning
“I won’t be in today
something’s come up.”
And blood
would seemingly trickle
from the corners
of your
downturned mouth
from your hateful
eyes
from chewing on
the razors of your
merciless
rage and despair.
So many
candle impressions
left on walls
breaking windows
staining chairs
so many treasures
and keepsakes shattered.
Amazing how everything
was always ready
for a new scene
how you managed to
replace the facts
change the clues
change impressions
replace the views.
But then
you were exceptional at
evaporating the mess
outside scrubbed tidy
(inside would always
be ugly spiteful vengeful)
you were so thorough
so vigorous
through your efforts
appearances were kept.
Not me
nothing clean here
filthy with horrors
dirty with dread
scummy with fear
on the inside
never knowing when
the other heel was going
to drop or when
peacekeepers would
appear skeptical again
arrangements were made.
In the end
you wrote a play
I was the unknowing lead
the irony the comedy
the blasphemy
great theatre
it didn’t win me awards
you got me put away
what a drama!
Your performance epic
your sad woman’s show!
No sweat
took on the bout
no man could win
no sweat
it was the principle of it
I wasn’t lying down but
the judge she didn’t see it
my way
funny that
k’od.
Oh, but now!
But now!
I have today
freedom never
tasted so good
sometimes I’m amazed
that I don’t
have more scars
but then again
your aim was never
that good
was it?
(click on the pic to buy my poetry book!)
A Tribute to My Brother’s Ex
Your wedding was a story book event;
my brother thought he was a lucky man.
He’d sacrifice for you his every cent
to give you all according to your plan.
And you were destined for an easy life
that women always dream of when they’re young,
and yet you still went out creating strife,
and slithered through the night with snake like tongue.
But now I hear that lately tables turned,
and you got everything that you deserved
when, by your latest lover, you got burned,
and that your precious pride was not preserved.
And so to you I say with great profound;
what goes around will always come around.
August 20, 2018
Emboldened by whispers,
echoes curdled in algorithmic rot—
electronic voices hiss their sermons,
venom soaked in coded politeness,
dripping beneath polished avatars.
Hate seeps
through curated feeds,
a slow infection
wrapped in memes,
seducing the young,
the angry,
the aimless—
until ideology feels like identity.
A curriculum of fear
streamed without consent,
etched into abandoned timelines,
where education once should have stood.
Now, only digital ruins remain—
barren soil
where thought might have grown.
This isn’t chaos.
It’s code.
Written to polarize,
to radicalize,
to dehumanize.
They teach with silence,
they preach with fragments,
they baptize with blame.
Their design is surgical—
not to inform,
but to fester.
Not to question,
but to conquer.
To crown the cruel
and cast the rest as fuel.
Without the quest for redemption
The populace play idle games
Gigabits won’t grant exemption
When sovereignty goes up in flames
Genocidal business mission
Funding both sides of each conflict
Stoking the flames of ambition
Bankrupt countries fail by edict
New orders rooted in the past
Proffer real wealth for dead paper
They sow ignorance vile and vast
Freedom dissolving like vapor
Warranted balance sheets dictate
Suitable loss as they see fit
Diseased airwaves warn us to hate
While poisons infect the mess kit
Failing sweet liberty’s daughter
Uranium shells pierce and spall
Embedding explosive slaughter
Self-righteousness annexing all
Peace proves a word of corruption
Imposing control serves their end
Troops and camps to quell eruption
When cheated free souls won’t pretend
Babel rebuilt before our eyes
Covert designs from ancient times
I recognize the Fourth Reich’s rise
Never ignoring their war crimes