Best Cretin Poems
I’m a free spirit rising
a freethinker dreaming
Stoically climbing
the surreal limbo bar,
But I don’t know why
i’m no bright spark
for split seconds on fire
lighting up the dark
Yet we have one
with burning aspirations
peers into his own sky
it goes over most heads
Just like mother earth
oh that monster
who never shared a bed
Unresurrected yet alive
drones from a hive
uniformity in his wardrobe
reminds me of
a Gucci slave
in fox fur skin
self imposed virgin
His yellow ribbon tie,
symbolic of no hope
tourniquet for the throat
leers around corners
peers over the edge
paranoid with multifaceted sides
seen through opaque eyes
equals the root of Pi r squared
be careful not to stare
Does his hell refuse lepers
can I comment
without being masked
stop me spreading gossip
through questions I ask,
Searching for answers
or setting traps
they come thick and fast
But like always
with many gaps
Cast out of Eden
for the beef he’s eaten
an iPhone heathen
Doesn’t know when beaten
perhaps tofu can sweeten
the Shakespearian cretin
By
David Kavanagh
Categories:
cretin, allusion, lonely, poets,
Form:
Blank verse
melting snowball
Fall-out started with the spring-break competition;
Errors were made as team effort slid downhill.
Then when name-calling sparked a partition,
esprit-de-corps broke to a stand-still.
“Butterfingers!” the dig of choice,
sabers, rifles drop in flight.
“Cretin!” answers a voice,
winter guard backbite.
“Bozo, Clod, Clown”
teenage jeers,
meltdown -
tears.
written March 20, 2018
Line Gauthier's A Melting Snowball contest
Categories:
cretin, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Rhyme
O tiny, dimpled sphere, virginal white,
Whooshing on your preordain-ed flight:
What motivates your Lord to curses spew
When you've done naught but to his swing be true?
Slice, and down he calls the wrath of God
On you and those who made you;
Hook, and here he whines you failed to heed
His clear intent to fade you.
You moved, he reasons, at the bottom of the downswing of the shot
(As if, inanimate jot, you have the power to move, or not).
“You’re old,” he mutters when a feeble, graceless effort
Sends you only laughing distance off the tee.
“Too bold,” he sputters when a misselected iron
Flies you over green to rest behind a tree.
Err as physics dictate, and Lo!, you are to blame;
Perform as he expects of you, no credit's due,
Only commands that you do more of same.
You are twice cut by lethal hacks that scar your face with "smiles.”
(“Grimace” is the better word.)
While the acid words he throws at you,
The vitriol he blows at you,
Drain his duffer's bile.
Injustice is your lot, bedeviled wretch, until you cease
Behind a bush or in some pond find peace;
For when you’re lost in water, wood, or shrub,
The cretin will commence to fault his club.
1/5/2016
Any Poem Contest
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Categories:
cretin, golf, humorous,
Form:
Ode
It's a real story that happened in one school
when a teacher appeared to be a complete fool.
Once when a teacher of math was sick
a teacher of physical education came, named Nick.
He wanted to show how intelligent he is
so he said: Solve my problem please!
- The car moves at a high speed.
To go to Spain a plane we need.
How old am I if the plane now is high in the sky?
- If to take all these tasks and mix
we’ll get the result: You are twenty six.
- Right you are Johnny!
Your arms are scrawny but brain is brawny.
How did you solve this problem so quick?
For me it’s easier to break a brick.
- Well, our neighbor being so sleazy is thirteen,
and my mum says that he is a semi cretin.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
For Francine Roberts contest "Humor Me"
Categories:
cretin, funny, teacher, education, teacher,
Form:
Free verse
FORGIVE ME THAT I HAVEN'T BEEN THROUGH THIS WHOLE SEX THING,
DON'T KNOW OF THESE ORGIES OR THE BACUS PARTIES,
DON'T KNOW OF SOME OTHER WOMAN'S CURVES,
OF SOME OTHER SCENT, EITHER STRONG OR WEAK,
DON'T KNOW OF THE WETNESS OF SOME OTHER VAGINA,
NOT ABOUT TWO MEN IN ME,
MORE THAN A SINGLE ***** TOUCHING MY FEELINGS.
NO, UNFORTUNATELY I DIDN'T HAVE THESE PLEASURES
FROM THE HOOKERS,
WHIPS, ECSTASY,THREESOMES, SWING.
SORRY, I DON'T KNOW THESE BEDS,
WASN'T LUCKY ENOUGHT TO HAVE THAT KIND OF COURAGE.
NEVER GOT BEAT UP WITH A BELT,
NEVER HUNG ON THE CEILING,
NEVER STUFFED ME WITH DRUGS,
NEVER SAW UNREALISTIC IMAGES
NOR SAID ABUSIVE WORDS
WHILE THEY CALLED ME WHORE
OR WHILE THEY SPANKED ME
IN SEARCH OF A MASOQUIST PLEASURE.
POOR ME, NEVER BROKE THE TABOOS
CUMMING IN SOMEONE I BARELY KNOW,
NEVER TASTED DOZENS OF DIFFERENT NUDES,
RAGGED TIMES TEN INSIDE OUT
FOR BEING DRENCHED IN DIFFERENT SPERMS,
HAVING COUPLES BETWEEN MY LEGS
THAT I DON'T EVEN KNOW THE NAMES,
WHERE THEY LIVE, WHAT THEY WEAR OR WHAT THEY EAT.
NEVER PIERCED ME WITH PINS
THEY HAVE NEVER MADE ME A TOY.
NEVER TASTED AN ******
WITH PUBLIC WATCHING,
NEVER ENDED WITH APPLAUSE,
NEVER TRIPPED ON EXHAUSTED MEN
LYING ON MY LIVING ROOM RUG,
DRUNK FROM ALCOHOL
BURNING FROM ALL THEIR HOLES...
I HAVE JUST WHISPERED " I LOVE YOU" ,
ABSORBED ONE MANS JOY,
DROVE MY NAILS IN JUST ONE BODY,
RIPPED A FEW SHIRTS,
ANSWERED TO JUST AN UNIQUE TOUCH.
I HAVE ONLY MEMORIZED HIS SIGNALS,
HIS SCARS
AND I HAVE ONLY KNOWN HIS CARNIVALS,
HIS FAULTS,
HIS MOANS AND HIS MANY GROANS.
WHAT A SHAME THAT I HAVE BEEN A GEISHA
FOR ONLY ONE MANS DESIRE
AND ONE IRRESISTIBLE "LET ME...".
BACK, SIDE, FRONT
ABOVE, BELOW, IN BETWEEN
I HAVE BEEN WHAT HE WANTED ME TO BE;
DAME, PROSTITUTE, ANIMAL, HUMAN
LADY, CRETIN, FATAL AND SWEET
BUT ALWAYS HIS,
NAKED ONLY IN FRONT OF HIM...
BUT NOW, WHAT WILL WE DO?
I STILL CAN LEARN ABOUT SEX
BUT WHO COULD TEACH HIM LOVE?
PATRICIA EVANS
Categories:
cretin, angst, inspirational, life, love,
Form:
Free verse
Note
TO = telephone operator
Self = myself speaking
TO: You have just reached Bedlam Associates Incorporations Ltd.
Our telephone number is 999999ad infinitum but a 9 is enough.
If you want to hear this message in English, please press 1
If you prefer any other language please press 2.
Self: I press 1.
TO: Good job, Sir. I only know English.
Self: (mumbling))
TO: How can I help you Sir?
Self: I have a problem with my Visa credit card.
TO: You have to chose from our menu:
Press 1 if you lost your card.
Press 2 if you have now found your card.
Press 3 if you found a card belonging to some one else.
Press 4 in case you use this card which does not belong to you.
Press 5 for any other question.
Self: I press 5
TO: So what do you want?
Self: I went to a public ATM and inserted my card.
TO: Did you insert it properly? If not press 1. If yes press 2.
Self: (Pressing 2) I’m not a cretin you know.
TO: So what’s the problem, SIR.
Self: I inserted my secret pin number…
TO: Was it the correct pin?
Self: Of course (mumbling). I then saw the amount of money
available to me. So I pressed 500. But I only got 100.
TO: Press 1 if you want a receipt. My records show you pressed
100.
Self: I’m not blind, you know. I pressed 500.
TO: You have only one option. Go to the nearest bank,
Goodbye Sir. Come again soon.
Although this conversation is fictions, it did happen to me. Only the TO was quite nice about it.
Categories:
cretin, technology,
Form:
Free verse
Once when we lived way up north where it's real cold in winter,
We had a dog named Leroy, it's him I now remember.
We took him from a real bad home where he was abused and beaten.
The man was going to shoot him for that man was a cretin.
Leroy was a Beagle cross with Doxie or Corgi mixed in.
Whatever was his background it made a real good blend.
He really took to me straightway, became my biggest fan.
My little buddy through and through and I thought he was grand.
He was a funny little guy, he had a thing for cats.
He didn't want to hurt them but adopted them as pets.
My neighbor came to me one day for help with her new kitten.
It wouldn't play games with her dog as would her big cat, Mitten.
I told her that would come in time that she must just be patient.
The kitten had to learn to trust, she couldn't be impatient.
I went over to her house and there to my surprise,
Was Cougar, our big, buff cat with great big amber eyes.
"Cougar! What are you here for? I better take you home!
I'm sorry that he's in your house. He usually doesn't roam."
My neighbor told me, "That's my cat."
"Oh no' I said, 'he's mine."
Leroy looked up at the cat. No doubt was in his mind.
The cat looked down at Leroy. He stiffened in my arms.
How was he to know this dog really meant no harm.
Leroy leaped up off the ground. He barked,"Come on, let's play!"
The cat exploded in a cloud of cat hair, spit and spray.
My chest and arms were bleeding, pee ran down my shirt.
My neighbor looked concerned and said, "Judy, are you hurt?"
"I really thought he was my cat. You'd think there'd be some sign."
My neighbor looked at me and laughed, "I told you he was mine."
Categories:
cretin, pets,
Form:
Rhyme
There was an old cat who thought he was cool
Rantin' til it made him look like a fool
I heard some folks say
"He's a motley stray"
Hissin' 'bout stuff just like a right paw tool
Black cats ran him out of their neighborhood
Talkin' smack like he lived in Hollywood
He sat on the fence
Tellin' us we're dense
Gruff Gus, said he's always misunderstood
White felines laughed at him behind his back
Cuz Gus lived on the wrong side of the track
They held a meetin'
Without the cretin
I heard them whisperin' the word, 'bushwhack.'
So the story goes, Gruff Gus disappeared
American Tabbies gleefully cheered
Something had transpired
Gus was undesired
He's mortified that his head had been sheared
Categories:
cretin, cat,
Form:
Limerick
I know
in soul
I am a poor wretch and banditte
without any moral codes and barriers and senses.
I am ended cretin and cynic.
I spat to all -
to ours or others, friends or enemies.
I have held in my hand
the nuclear bomb
and ruled firmly
by the great country,
where self-governing chicken community
frozen to death,
as the doctrines of cursed justice.
I spat to democracy, wisdom,
to human rights of men,
and what left there else?
Fair elections
and other values and social perfections?
I tramped them all,
that might to corrode my legitimacy.
I am bad boy
and know that never lose power.
Better the great country
will go to hell
together with honest sheep-like population
that so adored me
when I am spitting to West and East
then I am lost my favorite toy.
I am bad boy
and will be to stay forever
I spit to past, up-to-date
and to face of forthcoming day.
I am bad boy
but the national leader also.
Categories:
cretin, political, boy,
Form:
Verse
How sweet it must be,
In your ignorant bliss.
No thought for your mind to chew.
Just stare into space,
With a look on your face.
Of a cretin without a clue.
Gain insight from above,
And believe all you’re told.
Intellect you will not accrue.
Just run with the herd,
Close your mind, undeterred.
To various points of view.
As you wallow a while,
In your ignorant style.
And believe you believe what is true.
Just remember your fate,
Rests with those you may hate.
Careful aim for your venom to spew.
But complain as you may,
While Americans stay,
On a path to gain knowledge and do.
What is right, what is good,
What must be understood.
Just to be who we are or we’re through.
Categories:
cretin, anger, humorous, visionary,
Form:
Rhyme
I say a lot of things but little of it has any meaning
These daily words and conversations are all too quick and fleeting
But NEVER say the wrong thing; in this age you can’t delete them
Lines have become blurry, distorted; drawn jagged and uneven
Wrong might seem right for a minute, but then forever you’re a heathen
Someone gets offended at the damage your opinion might be dealing
Then the assailant isn’t even allowed to respond with any feelings
Not remorse or regret nor will they hear any pleading
Go away and rot and repent you guilty cretin
Don’t disagree with me, don’t try to explain, I won’t hear a thing
I’m too far ingrained into the world I maintain; to me, it is what it is
Your truths are all false, I loudly explain; credit to your perspective I will never give
Into one ear and right out the other go all the ideas by which you’ve lived
So eventually everyone passes by each other not even speaking
Now there’s too much risk. What’s the point? There’s no reason
New issues arise and historical scabs surface again; our defeat is
hidden with the values we’ve kept from ourselves, where they die lost and bleeding
Categories:
cretin, conflict, perspective, political, social,
Form:
Lyric
Crass ignorance doth propel my heart to anguish,
Why have thou forsaken me?,
Is it just for my pithy pleading to wither in the valley of the damned,
Shall I be cursed to my geography and mine parents whims,
What insolence has mine cretin thoughts winnowed with these allusions to Science,
Pray for me Providence for the hour of my reckoning draws nearer,
Mine blackened heart I give up wholly to you,
Do with it as you must, as One is Born , One must return to Dust.
Categories:
cretin, death, religion, heart, heart,
Form:
She barged through the doors of the bank with her gun
And shot the security guard just for fun
She fired her gun and yelled “Down on the floor,
I’ve shot me one man, I could shoot a few more!”
One customer, Jenna, said, “Hold up, you cretin,
You half witted loser, it’s jail you’ll be gettin,
You charge in this bank with that soppy old pistol
I think I might kick your ass from here to Bristol.”
The robber, fired two bullets into the ceiling
And said, “I shall shoot anybody not kneeling.”
Jenna said, “I’m gonna laugh as you fry.”
The robber said, “You’d better reach for the sky.”
Armed police turned up; one lady arrested
Based on the ‘facts’ that another attested
The robber’s at home playing video games
And Jenna’s in jail for calling her names
And all the police wonder what to expect
Now that they’ve lost any public respect
At lunch break they wonder how low they could stoop
When they’re as inviting as watered down soup.
[What a coincidence; a poem about someone called Jenna enduring an injustice. Pure chance… honest, Guvnor!]
Categories:
cretin, innocence,
Form:
Rhyme
L’amoureux brindezingue dit non avec la tète
Le cerveau fort agité amèrement s’embête
Pendant qu’il dit oui avec le cœur enflammé
D’un amour incertain, embaumé et emmitouflé
Oh ! Quelle bête! Les femmes ont toujours raison
Même quand elles ont tort. La gravité défie la raison
Dit-on, d’un air funambulesque et prodigieux
L’amour à sens unique est bizarre et malheureux
Quelle folie de se voir noyer dans l’entonnoir de l’étang
Le fou rire le prend, le cancre a gaspillé tout son temps
L’amoureux désaxé au lieu de rencontrer le grand bonheur
Se voit masquer dans les cendres noires d’un triste malheur.
Copyright © Avril 2022, Hébert Logerie, Tous droits réservés
Hébert Logerie est l'auteur de plusieurs recueils de poésie.
Categories:
cretin, funny love, heartbreak, inspirational
Form:
Rhyme
No person wants to live in a condemned building, with it's decrepit roof and ceiling
raining asbestos and lead upon your head, no one wants it but you can always go outside.
No person wants to live in a condemned building and drink from it's rusty faucets filled
with mercury and lead, lithium and rust, water so brown with bacteria and dirt that no
person should have to drink it but you can always drink from a bottle.
No person wants to live in a condemned building with it's putrid air so filthy and full of
dust and bacteria that sickness is not a possibility it is guaranteed but no one says you
have to live there, unless your poor that is.
No person wants to live in a condemned building with windows unable to protect from heat
or cold, where summers can suffocate and winter's can freeze. Where your about as safe
behind those windows as a tree is from the air. Any cretin from outside could easily come
inside and do unspeakable things. Such a house is unlivable and should be condemned.
However, what if the outside world was no better?
What if air outside was rotten with disease and poison and the lakes and oceans were so
brown that dying of thirst would be advisable?
What if the ground itself was so filled with garbage and waste that you wonder why you
can't just live somewhere else?
What if the planet itself were condemned and unlivable? Where would you or I go?
This is not as much a fantasy as it is reality that the planet should be condemned and no
one living thing should live here yet we have no place to go and we have no one else to
blame but ourselves.
Can this fixer upper be repaired or will we, the human race be condemned along side of it?
Categories:
cretin, naturedrink, planet,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue