Best Could Care Less Poems
I was working in the Capitol late one night
When my eyes beheld an eerie sight
Nancy Pelosi began to rise
And suddenly to my surprise
She did the bash
She did the Samoan bash
She did the bash
It was a liberal smash
She did the Bash
It gave me a rash
She did the bash
She did the Samoan Bash
She denied American Samoa minimum wage
Somebody left her out of her cage
She could care less, no conscience found
So Star Kist stock didn’t go down
She did the bash
She did the Samoan Bash
She did the Bash
It was a liberal smash
She did the bash
It was her husband’s flash
She did the bash
She did the Samoan bash.
Now all is peaceful in socialist land
As we watch our retirement sink in the sand
You have to give the devil her due
When she’s done shafting them
She’ll shaft me and you too.
She did the bash
She did the Samoan bash
She did the bash
Now they have no cash
She did the bash
She believes we’re all trash
She did the bash
She did the Samoan bash.
This verse was inspired by "The Monster Mash" which wasn't near as scary as
Congress and the former Speaker of the House
I could care less about the four
corners of insults,
That intelligence invites;
It is always the first straw of
grass that’s grows,
which reveals the popular outcast;
As a youth, I found my image cut down
into this manufactured silhouette.
Drenched in social rain, my peers
had never found me more alienated,
Then when I spoke fluently of diverse
topics;
They did everything in their power to provide
a verbal umbrella,
However, the texture remains weak and
defeated.
This stormy parade that remains’ dripping is
indeed an afterthought,
For within this cranial mansion resides
additional rooms,
For the more abstract and surreal
elements of life;
It is that secluded gland which reveals
the renaissance of men, who wear
infinite Fedoras.
Now wearing the shoes of a young
man,
A taste of charisma resides in my
veins;
However this slight addiction to external
haze,
Comes in second to my first drug of
choice: Wisdom.
Membership into this fraternity may take a lifetime;
So don’t be surprised when resistance
knocks at your door,
Intimidated by the lion that dwells within
your temple;
Indeed intellect is the misunderstood
fruit,
That blossoms sweeter when accepted.
And I know you didn't plan it
it's so hard for us to understand it
I love you, I hate you - I just don't understand it
One moment we're feeling bliss- like we're on another planet
you love me, you hate me...the story goes...we took our love for granted
caught up in memories, now everything's pixelated
everything spoken is debated
everything valued has been faded
what was token...has been broken
you used to leave my heart smokin'
- she flipped the tarot cards -
now I'm hoping...
instead of dealing with it...I'm coping
you promised me everything would be copacetic
...but everything's gotten quite hectic
we lost our way- I can admit...I detected it
nevertheless...I didn't expect it
the process...I can't respect it
love...how you do love like that?
from dormant to torment
it didn't rain...it stormed
"and don't you tell me days like this is the "norm"
I used to think you were the bomb
I used to think you were the title to my poem
now I'm sitting here with my hands in my palms
thinking you could care less
cause everything you've done was careless
I digress...
I gave you your best
can't believe my reward is this mess
...it was never a contest...
but I thought we were each other's trophy
...and I know you didn't plan it
it's so hard for us to understand it
I love you, I hate you...I just don't understand it
They call me anti-social
As if I could care less
When I'm on my own
Is when I'm at my best
A room full of people
Socializing and being equal
I could care less to be in attendance
But I guess its about remembrance
But being a Social butterfly
Is not in my agenda
I prefer to dwell in my own hacienda
So I will be anti-social
And leave the pro-social
To the locals
For now that's my focal
I've had it up to here with rappers saying they have more bars than a prison
I'm sick of celebrities saying they're a bigger star than anything in the solar system
I'm tired of rappers saying their car is upset because the roof is missing
I no longer want to hear these punchlines that are average at best
That have Been overused, are there any original writers left?
I'm tired of people who use clickbait for views
I'm sick and tired of seeing a new headline of "Kim Kardashian has new Nudes"
Let me know when she wears clothes and it'll be a bigger shock
Every time a Kardashian posts a half naked Picture, take a liquor shot
And you'll be drunk and out of your mind before the hour
I'm sick of celebrities who brag about popping pills and taking white powder
Well done, you take drugs and are destroying your life, aren't you a genius?
I'm tired of the news posting stories at their own convenience
Rihanna's outfit is a bigger headline than what's happening in Palestine
I don't care about Beyonce and Jay-Z or any celebrity and their Valentine
Unless it's me dating Ariana Grande, tell her I'll love her forever
I went off topic to mention my dream girl for good measure
I'm tired of girls saying "I don't know" when you ask them where they want to eat
So you suggest places, then they say "not there" woman, choose now before I leave
I'm sick and tired of writers rhyming you with true aswell as Heart with apart
I listen to everything everyone says, take a few gems, the rest I disregard
I've had it up to here with new rappers calling themselves the New Tupac
I'm sick of the news and media who post stories but remove facts
Because they don't give a damn about the tragedy as long as they get paid
I'm tired of talentless people getting famous from leaking their sex tape
I'm tired of people saying they could care less when they mean they couldn't
I'm tired of couples breaking up and getting back together the next day
I'm done I've got nothing more to share
I'm just venting because I've had it up to here
There are a lot of word Smiths on this site
Who pen good poems that are out of sight
Its likened to attending a beautiful feast
Or eating good bread with just enough yeast
However, I must point out, and it's not a myth
I am in no way, shape, or form a word, Smith
But, I marvel at the talented people here
Viewing their various poems fills me with cheer
I am forever thankful I found Poetry Soup
This community is such a fantastic group
Finding the gift of words saved my life
It rescued me from heartache and strife
So, although I don’t cross every “ T” nor;
Do I dot every “I” writing means much more
I know some could care less about my poetry
It’s ok, well all have different tastes, you see
However, we must respect one another
By not saying nasty things to each other
Isn’t this lovely site about sharing poetry?
The backbiting needs to stop; It’s no mystery
Amid a few bad apples on this amazing site
This will always be a place for me to write
Alexis Y.
08/18/2022
Below is a copy of your poem:
PLEASE
I grew up around the corner from this church
Watching a good neighbor turn bad
Where people got hurt, and children grew up mad
Where there was a continuous fight for the good of their community
But there was a different story for little old me
I grew up with hustlers all around me
Trying to teach me the ways of these mean old street
But I felt in my soul that this wasn’t for me
Well as time went by I became a product of my our environment
And the things I use to do people would keep it silent
So after years of triumph and agnate
I’ve decided to turn a new leaf
And allow God to show me myself
Me, the way that he sees me
So today instead of walking pass this church
I walked in this church
Hoping that the church would take me by my hand
And walk me pass my hurts
But as I enter I’m greeted by nasty stairs and smirks
And you call yourselves Christians
Is your pastor preaching to the pews?
Or are you really listening
I’m sure he teaches you that perception is only what you think you see
So I have to ask
What do you see when you look at me
Do you see the young thug that I use to be?
Or do you see a wounded soul trying to be set free
So what if I wear baggie jeans, white t’s and tims
And listen to wu tang
That doesn’t mean I don’t know the power in his name
So as I stand to testify please understand that I could care less
About a smirk or a frown
Because only God have the power to knock me down
So what do you do now?
Do you recognize the pain in my cry?
Or do you continue to beat me down
Recognize that I’m just like you
And I’ve seen, and done things
That you’ll problem never go though
So don’t just sit there being tight lip and saucy in your pew
Recognize that I'm crying out to you
PLEASE
The trepidation of dread released my haunted dreams.
I carry nightmares of long lost apprehensions bleeding into
your core. My essence, you have shattered and your essence I have
protected. You threw me out on the clothes line and forgot
my name once again. How many times do I need to learn?
I have failed in the area of romance and I have failed at
keeping you near me during cold nights. I was your cold nights
and you were my warm days. Please think about this one
more time…I needed you like breath and I broke for you like
loss. Your loss was me and you could care less. My loss will always
be you and I will never break free from my inhibitions. You restrain
your words out of spite and I hinder the love we could have had.
Too deep inside a disaster yet too surfaced to remain adjacent.
Obstruction has begun and it will never cease to end. I have suppressed
all the good moments because you prohibit me from remembering them.
One mournful goodbye has cremated my aspirations. I loved you
like roses and said goodbye to you like nevermore.
Written By: Laura Loo
~Date Written: April 7, 2016~
is this then my fate
watching the scurrying crabs
rearranging sands, counting the waves
the wary eyes of the magnificent frigates above
your eyes were to me
exotic birds of aquamarine
whose free flight
stole my thoughts
my breath
my heart
now i have a horizon
where the world disappears
the universe begins
azure is more than a color
how ironic
how often said
love is blue
herein are only remembrances
of shared happiness
a gentleman never tastes bitterness
in what was not meant to be
i had a professor once, well more than once
who explained that we needed
to reach into the depth of being
to write poetry
that sentiment was to be avoided
as some shunned member of society
a useless masked whore
this poem is my gift to you
not to impress a world i could care less about
but to validate the point
sentiment is the foundation of poetry
innate to the heart's wings in the quill
that fills the dreams within
or walks in mourning upon the beach
Fergus Falls 2000
on Youtube:
Tom Waits - "The One That Got Away"
Empty promises; that's all your words are.
I care for you, do you even care for me?
I've given so much of myself;
mind, body, and soul, and it seems that
you could care less.
You're all I think about night and day
and you hardly think of me.
I wait for your call or a text.
Sometimes I become so hopeful
that you'll show up at my door,
and yet, it's just another lonely night
that I spend to myself.
Pain and agony bypass my heart
and it cuts deep into my soul,
and you wonder why and think,
"just let it go".
I wonder if there is someone else,
and wonder what they have that I don't.
I try, try, try, and try too many times,
curing the ground that you walk on,
then apologizing unnecessarily.
Why should I apologize?
You've put me on an emotional roller
coaster ride; happiness, sadness, and
anger rush through me like a tidal wave.
Happy when I see you, sad when I cannot,
and angry when you don't even care to try.
I care more about you than I do myself.
My feelings go ignored because I love.
I love someone who doesn't love me back.
I was a girl who was different from the accepted norm,
I kept to myself, seldom spoke, watched the world;
pushing people away with my silence, my deviate ways,
as a teen I dressed in a vintage style of my own.
I suppose that I wanted to step back in time with my mind,
spending a lot of hours finding perfect vintage jewelry;
and clothes- creating a unique look far from accepted style,
I was part of the deviants in a peaceful way.
Yes, I was different, unusual, not like other girls, weird and quirky,
yet, inside me I was divine, I loved how I dressed, it was me;
and I was wonderful, lovely, pleasing and felt so beautiful,
I am still the divine in my thinking and style.
But, as an adult, a writer I could care less who approves of me,
for some, I am an inspiration- for others, I dwell too much in death;
there is a dark side of me that bleeds into my poetry,
well, all these thoughts whirling in my head need a release somewhere.
i am the wordsmith
son of the verbalist
my expressions flows
in clicks of my tongue
like the San of the sands
the only strange thing about me
is my cliks and twists are softer
and sincere
but fearless...
I am the very woman
who will live by her offspring
and voice her dreams
because she could care less
who shuns her because
even then, her skin and
state of beauty
still sets their tongues wagging
Call her strange but
she is the very woman
who would put her foot down
and swear in the eyes of the beast
that she has had enough
The very woman
who would live until the very end
so that she sees to it that
all she loves stays well
The very woman who would
halt the habit of a man
who solves his financial crisis
with the back of his hand
and resolves to the toxic green bottle
for refuge
The very woman who would
live seven lives just so that
her will gets done
She is the very woman
who measures her worth
by the count of heart beat
her essence
has its own calibration
greater than man
She is the very woman
who would be quick to get up
after greatly falling
and heal her bruises with time
then follow the sun
for her home is where it sets
That woman is me
you
her
them
caged in these little girls
waiting to be unleashed
so they could rule!
We are the unsung heroes of the predawn light.
No we may never have fought in a great war,
or saved a soul from the snapping jaws of death.
People wave to us, but few know who we are
and most on a good days run could care less.
Like the organ grinder's monkey from days of old,
we have been repeatedly trained to do a task.
We do a job few would even consider doing
and most would not even attempt to try.
A job burdened with ever growing responsibility
due to the minutia of a ever expanding bureaucracy.
A grossly undervalued, underappreciated profession
designated part-time by thoughtless administrations
that mouth how important we all are once a year
only to persecute us for every trifling thing later.
If you are lucky enough to survive a number of years
without resigning or becoming a sacrificial lamb
on the altar of a fearful self serving public face,
you will get a tiny pension for your devoted service.
We are the unsung heroes of the predawn light.
The tolerant souls that routinely put up with
a few rude demanding manipulative parents
and their insolent misbehaving little darlings
just to be able to serve the greater majority
of decent well meaning thoughtful parents
and the precious treasures of tomorrow
they have temporarily entrusted to us.
Like a hamster running on a little wheel,
we go around in circles every single day,
but unlike the hamster we must summon
every instinct and learned skill to insure
every turn we make is executed flawlessly.
We are kept aloft on our spinning wheel
by the deliberate hands of a caring heart
and the many small souls seated behind us
that come to trust us not to make a mistake.
We are the one person in their little lives
that are not allowed to ever let them down
for neither of us may be able to live with it.
We are their school bus drivers...
Courage
There once was a man who was fearless
Confronting a fear he could care less
His courage was there
Like Samson with hair
Except on his head he was hairless
Courage-Andrea Dietrich Contest
July 4, 2015
I Hate Home Depot!
I hate Home Depot!
Just the sight of that
orange and white sign
makes my stomach turn.
However I know every
square inch of that store,
I’ve spent
thousands of hours there
as a paying customer.
I know what all is in the
garden section for all of the seasons.
I know where to go to find the
nuts, screws, nails and bolts. I can guide you
through the wallpaper and
the paint section.
I’ve bought sheets of plywood, lots of pcv pipe,
dozens of American Standard toilets,
ceiling fans, light fixtures, HVAC systems,
generators, even a riding lawn mower.
I’ve bought paint and waited to have it
mixed properly. I’ve rented
and driven dozens of their trucks before.
I’ve bought power drills, leaf blowers
screwdrivers, hammers, cabinets,
patio furniture, a refrigerator, an oven,
and an air conditioner.
I’ve even rented a carpet cleaner too!
But I could care less, if I ever step foot
in a Home Depot ever again. All of my hours
clocked in that store went to the benefit
of my ex.
He was the one that financially,
emotionally and personally
gained from my presence in
Home Depot.
So what was the point of me acquiring
all of that knowledge that didn’t benefit
me at all then and probably won’t benefit
me ever again?
It seems like such as waste of my time
and energy now.
Believe me when I say
I would rather watch paint dry than
go to Home Depot, I mean ever word
of that statement!
One summer I practically read all of
War and Peace in the orange and
white store from Hell!
But I can show you how to repair a large hole
in a piece of sheetrock. I know how to
paint the inside and the outside of a house.
I know how to install travertine in a house,
slanted and straight.
I have installed granite countertops,
hardware for a sink and the basin too.
Many other home improvement projects
I learned there.
What a fool I was!
Oh well, that’s life.
Who knows maybe
someday I’ll use some
of that knowledge that I
hated every minute learning!