Best Crude Poems
I think I shall never see the beauty
In absurdity of human bareness.
The aide in whom God entrusted duty
Of our design was quite inept, I’d guess.
The feline form was designed to impress,
With fur coats adapting to the weather.
No bird is pretty without a feather.
God saw the bad results in time to say,
We should give to man a coat of leather.
We’ll hire fashion designers right away.
I don’t go to the beach just for the sight
Of man or woman in bare essentials.
They may be young enough to look all right.
Others should wear clothing and credentials.
Parts of us should stay as confidentials.
Ruben’s nudes are ridiculed as fatter
Than savory pork served on a platter.
In public keep your clothes on if you don’t
Want to be dubbed crazy as mad hatter.
Stay safely home if nudity’s your wont.
She didn’t play poker so well.
Her bluff was as clear as a bell.
Her insides would quaver
So much that they gave her
A hell of a smell of a tell.
Large hemorrhoid piles
obstruct waste evacuation
Evoke toilet time howls
In flat rectal production
He heard that the zoo was for sale;
a donkey and tiger he'd 'nail':
'I want' - to the lass -
'your pussy and ass!'
(And that's why he's banged up in jail...)
If you see father Ken Saro Wiwa
Tell him about me as a mouth to his songs,
Tell him that they have removed the meat
He gave to us and gave us grasses;
Dirty grasses to replace our milky meat,
We are not cows, then, why would they bring
grasses for us to chew in public ?
Our smokes are restricted from moving out,
Our kitchens have turned to oil wells,
Our mother's mortar taken far away land.
Tell Buchi Emecheta that we have no water
To drink even land to farm our crops now.
Our air is stinking with dark sticky viscous liquid.
They said it is a mixture of holy gases,
Its looks like liquid and solid hydrocarbons,
Impurities of surphur, nitrogen and oxygen!
The words coming out from their teeth suck.
Exploitation of our wings are done by the cows;
Beautiful cows in a beautiful dresses to suite.
The search for oil has killed many with Geologists.
They eat Naptha here and there with Kolas,
They wear paraffin oil as their bangles,
Petrochemicals are the eyes that loots their pride.
More funny cows are sitting on crude now,
More cows own more oil well than the goats.
When will the goats be given chance to speak?
If you see father Ken Saro Wiwa beyond,
Tell him that our creeks are baptised sinfully,
Our hands are tied behind us to keep shut.
If the going get tougher and rougher here,
If the sky visit us as promised with a new rain,
We will break out from this caged pleasure
To a place of rest looking at the rising half sun.
---- Another Voice stronger.
(C) John Chizoba Vincent
Voice Of Vincent 2016
Untrue black feathers
Crawling in a charcoal bed
Drenched in slick darkness
Black shrouds blue
a dingy hue
This greedy minscus constricts us
~~~Mother Earth's shameful eyepatch~~
A gull's squak gurgled crude
chirping 89 octane birdsongs
forever grounded by fossil fuel fettered feathers
sharp eyes, glazed over, searching the horizon
for a savior from this senselessness
Feed the steely beasts,
produced in fleets,
chrome teeth and audible horns,
the black blood we gave them
and thirst for thanklessly.
Their evolution halted by prophets of profit
We extract that which we cannot put back
veins spew petroleum poison
hemmorhaging
Cuts bleed. Logically
Yet here stands man,
knife in hand
confounded by healing our wounded land
as figureheads foist fingers frenetically
***Inspired by Poetry Soup's Gulf Oil Spill contest!!
Filth, foul, greedy, crude
Soiled beauty and freedom-
Will this disgrace end?
A. Green
DO NOT FEUD WITH THIS RUDE AND CRUDE DUDE, DUDE
Damn dude, there ain’t even a remote possibility
Because anyone who knows me understands I don’t possess that particular ability
Until you’ve gotten to know me you cannot comprehend nor fathom my reality
Because one must really know me to understand that I am but a triviality
Get to know me and you will see that I am incredibly and incredulously inconsequential
With not even a paltry part of pertinent potential
I am likened to an insipidly insignificant infant
Born to betray the confidence of every imprisoning instant
I am frivolity with no joviality
Unafraid and unconcerned with my mortality
I am a trifling trilogy of terror, temptation and trouble who is never triumphant
And by that triumvirate trained of tribulation well
One who defines the insinuation of Hell
Hell, I smoke four packs of cigarettes a day
And each night I’ve 2 pints of vodka to swig away
With a woman to stand by and ask herself and I why
Yet I remain silent and stifle the answer that I simply don’t fear to die
But the hardest thing to do for a man like me is continue on against my will
With nothing but time and torment to kill
I am akin to a virus vying with virility and a being to revile
And unfortunately I have nothing to make me smile
For I know precisely how speedily a smile succumbs to a frown
Because when used to describe me the word “irrelevant” becomes a noun
Since I am a man turned inside out and upside down
So no dude, I don’t possess the ability to make happiness a possibility revealed
For I know exactly what torment, temptation and tomorrow will yield
When once again cruelty is coerced by captivity and my smile is yet again concealed
For I am relatively rude
Quietly but quite crude
And becoming unilaterally unglued
Dude!
© 2012…..PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~
To the facts we often would allude
Not only are you vulgar but so crude;
(Also vain if you want to add that.)
What you did thought was implicit
To everyone else seemed to be illicit.
Was obscene, absurd and ridiculous
Language used completely ludicrous;
Sure looked suspicious leaving scene;
Left trail of blood from a ruptured spline.
Philosophy often contained curiosity
Face looked awful committing an atrocity;
For hours and days did sit and stare
At women with bodies that were bare.
Poems he wrote were always incomplete
Continually forgot to raise toilet seat
Laughed so much and could not quit
Left his mark by dribbling all over it.
Left town and went on an expedition
After breaking rules about prohibition
Looked at oddly when orange hair observed;
Avoid my miserable body drivers swerved.
Appeared to be apparent us he loathed
When his filth was seen all unclothed
On arm wore image of Putin tattooed
Everyone thought was vulgar and crude.
We are starting to think that
Trump is no laughing matter
at all. Should clumsily slip
and break stupid neck in
shower stall.
Jim Horn
Woke up during night when I found
this poem on my mind hanging around.
Strange. It said that my poem was
written on February 15th. It is the
16th here already in Bolivia, NC
where I live. Oh, well.
I once saw a rundown house
sitting on a thin little frame
and thought it pretty to someone.
She doesn't understand,
when she speaks of me the same.
Reflections aren't supposed to lie.
I see less than she, or more depending
on what it is I am searching for,
anymore I see the rundown house,
weakened frame, but I can't find thin.
I think the scale lies,
perhaps just to me.
She says enough is enough,
look in the mirror and see what I see.
What does she see that hides from my own eyes?
I see less, perhaps more,
depending on what it is
that I am searching for.
I see things perhaps with death's eyes,
does she know it is killing me?
Has she seen me fall from grace
and turn from life as if pushed
into the depths of my own grave?
She must know:
it has me hanging on a thin frame,
rundown, weakened from neglect,
I guess I am pretty to someone
but I don't see it the same.
She asked how can you
let it rape you of life?
I guess someone should tell her
that I am already dead,
she doesn't see.
A Crude Visit
(Rubiyat)
Standing out front with shopping cart
Disrespecting mother not smart
Telling her that she is now dead
Words piercing deep breaking her heart
To him I’m just a “seed donor”
Yet he’s acting like a stoner
Throwing out abuse from his mouth
I’m feeling now like a mourner
Oh my heart’s been broken in two
Now what am I supposed to do
It’s so hard to explain this pain
I know the Lord will pull me through
Tougher skin needed on this bone
Although at times I feel alone
Trick of the enemy I know
I do know all hope is not gone
I pray for strength along the way
That He would guide me day by day
Trying so hard to understand
Right now all I can do is pray
Crude Love
Nature's regalia had been spread long,
Like unto a pitch and a stretched lawn;
The sun like the grape in her time shine,
The rain as well, in archetype line.
But diverse timing possess the twain.
Sometimes, when the sun with purpl'd eyes looked,
At the boasting cedar an wild brook,
Light rain in mockery saunters too,
Consoling the comfort-less brook.
But ne'er had sun looked hard while rain stool.
When the sun refuse the rain treat,
She becomes sore moody till she weep.
So is crude (unrefined) love thus shown:
True lovers cannot rival as foes.
18:08:13:14:25
Note: I discovered that since I've been old enough to discern, I haven't seen the rain fall heavily and seen sun shine cruelly at the SAME time. So I established it that, between them is portrayed true love. The sovereign one using nature to depict emotion. Which means they (sun and rain) are lovers who respect themselves. They don't rival. Only if they can't control their love game, they go for treat together and that is when our parent(African /Nigerian) told us that, a leopard has just given birth to warrant this. So, learn how to learn from nature. Josh Berry
Mankind at his worst
"Drill, baby drill" is his chant
nature pays the price
Entry in the Tainted Feathers contest
There was a time we were independent,
exporting energy out to the world.
Natural gas helped make us ascendant,
before the energy plan was unfurled.
Clean coal is indeed oxymoronic,
but our technology, better than most.
Nuclear probably is the world's tonic;
solar won't get you a night on the coast.
Shutting down pipelines, pleading with Saudis,
suspending drilling on government land…
With these pump prices, I'm getting rowdy;
time for the little guy to make a stand.
Putin? Darned tootin', he is an *ss hat,
but when I let loose, well, "Biden did that!"
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I'm driving the truck as little as possible these days, but $90 for half a tank of diesel is enough to bring out a bit of a rant...