Best Cussed Poems
I started sucking my thumb until it looked like a plumb
Things didn't feel any better so I poured a glass of rum
Some will imagine I'm happy when they hear the tunes I hum
whisky me Dixie I am the crazy unbalanced one
Yes I hum like a drum and I pretend to be dumb
I prefer the shady ladies who stay out of the sun
You might want to hang out after all I can be fun
Others will try and warn you, you'd be better off to run
You think I'm simple dear Simon, my thoughts not so deep
I know it's easy to judge me by the company I keep
I'm hanging on by three threads, one step away from endless sleep
I can't get up high enough, the incline of my mind is too steep
I'm weathered and worn kinda broken and busted
Others thought they could help get my aptitude adjusted
Yet some things can't be fixed too many layers have rusted
Kind people have attempted to get me polished and dusted
Forget all that attention I just simply cussed it
I wander asphalt streets bopping to my lost boy beat
see the crooked dexterity of my wobbly bruised feet
Nothing satiates me what I hunger for I can't eat
the ghosts in my mind have occupied my seat
My demons are hidden beneath a white worn sheet!
Don't try and peek under, you won't like who you meet!
I wrote what I thought was a 'poem' some years ago,
but it lacked rhythm, rhyme, and had no smooth flow.
Its imagery was blurry, and it filled my heart with grief
to read the overdose of alliteration, so far beyond belief.
To be quite blunt, it was a freakin, fricken, flippen flop.
I was distraught reading what I'd written and had to stop.
"W T F W T?" I shouted at myself in complete disgust!
Had I just said that aloud? Was I so irked that I'd cussed?
The vibrato pulsing in my voice shook the high bookshelf,
and on the floor fell the pimp... the spying Christmas elf!
"Stay there you lil bugger!" I yelled down at him. "You suck!!"
I could've sworn he made a mental note for Santa. W T F?
Threw him in the trash. With greasy, yucky stuff he went.
I sat at my keyboard, deciding time would be better spent
in writing poetry that would supersede that piece of crap.
I wanted to clear myself of fault and put on my thinking cap.
The first line read, "My muse is older, and I should scold her..."
But I heard a loud gasp and felt a hard punch on my shoulder.
Atop my head she beat me with a broom!, Yes, I was struck
from behind. I saw blind fury in her eyes and yelled, "W T F?"
Barbed wire seems a 'thorny' subject on which to opine,
But there arose a need for such for people and beasts to confine!
Cowpokes cussed as they worked with it mutilating their hands.
Sheepherders fussed with cattlemen as it spread across their lands!
'Tis said back in 1874 Joseph Glidden, who 'bristled' with the idea,
Was awarded a patent for barbed wire to provide a cure-all panacea!
Split-rail fencing to outline boundaries was rapidly becoming passe',
To keep neighbors' straying goats, horses and other critters at bay!
Sheriffs found barbed wire handy to enforce a judge's firm dictates,
To confine hoss thieves, cattle rustlers and other such reprobates!
Inmates trying to scamper through the wire were apt to rip their pants,
Or worse, might end up in 'boot hill', caught trying to scale the fence!
Alas, sinister uses for barbed wire were found beyond bucolic meadowlands.
'Twas used to enslave thousands of innocent souls behind its menacing strands.
Thousands of men, women and children were consigned to death at Dachau,
Triblinka, Buchenwald, Ravensbruck and Auschwitz-Birkenau.
Among its many other diverse uses it has even marched off to wars,
To protect gallant American soldiers on far too many alien shores.
Mister Joseph Glidden was doing mankind a great favor, he thought.
Were he alive today he might say, "My gawd, what hath I wrought!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
I woke in the backseat ‘cause sleeping is what I did - -
I hid when we had a many state, family vacation ride.
Daddy said that this time, we would drive straight thru five.
Mama’s hair back was smashed headrest flat cause Sis
pressed against her and they were sleeping like that.
Brother was pressing his back window with his face,
his nose smearing glass, his amusement surely in place.
Dad was focused on a radio baseball game.
Seeing all was good, I found my travel toy case
for safe car play. In no time, pretending took me away.
Soon, noise-crazy frightening, sound attacked and blurred.
“WHAT IN THE WORLD!” was Dad’s first reaction heard.
A lot of horns HONKED with urge, several SWERVED,
two almost BANG converged, others FLEW off the road.
Sirens blared, well-lit, brakes were hit, Dad cussed a fit,
Mama and sis stirred. Mama murmured something like ‘absurd’,
while Dad let loose the worst of his really bad, ugly words.
Quickly, I let go of the toy I was holding out my window.
Who knew Slinky's at eighty miles per hour weren’t simple?
Then, without uttering a single concern,
I faked sleep as though I’d never emerged.
For hours my parents could be heard wondering
what had caused traffic to be so disturbed
and thanking God our family wasn’t hurt.
I don’t believe there is such a thing as a mirror,
Because this so called reflection is not really me.
I think he is a stranger that moved into my house,
For the man that I see is somewhat, ugly.
I think he built this life size window
To spy on everything that I do
And I can tell you he is beginning pissing me off
I can feel my anger’s starting to brew
Once I moved to the side of the window
And he disappeared out of sight
What I could see a part of his room
Gave me an terrible fright
The bugger’s been to the same shop
And bought the same things I have
The bed, cupboards and lamp shades
And on the table he even has the same Sat. Nav.
I peeped into this window
With the hope to catch him off guard
But there he was looking at me
Staring just as hard
I stood in front of the loser and cussed the most colourful words
The monkey aped every action even the moving of his lips
Then it dawned on me that he wore the same clothes
In the same pose with his hands on his hips
So infuriated, I punched the window
And ended his years of peeping tom jeer
However, the bugger is now haunting me
In every glass I happen to peer
And...I ponder
Do people even care about me? Sadly, I can't see...
Sucks being bipolar,
Having episodes of madness, sadness and ecstasy...
I am numb
I can't feel anymore
I am dumb,
Wisdom out the door...
Change is a challenging chore...
I need some satisfaction
Not this...anger sensation
Action takes its time some more...
Seeing others' succeed
While I remain this weed
That sucks the life of you
I'm sorry I cussed and fussed endless
Because of what you do
You seem to smile away your sadness
I wear the mask of plastic gladness
You don't see or care about my distress
Maybe, I'm acting selfish...actually, I was
Attempting to be selfless is trust with flaws
I'm bewildered because I have become
Ignorant and blissful like many these days...these days...
Wrapped up in bed, worthless like a crumb
I'm not looking for attention in this frustration maze
I bet no one will read this..or would scroll away in inner success rays
Hear me out beyond the pained and hopeless...we all need beloved praise
Time is not by our side, only God and Christ is quite frankly
I had enough alone time, I need to belong a wee bit actually
Energy is low and under the weather
Fever above a hundred, now cooled off
Don't feel sorry for me whatsoever
These hot and cold flashes and what not is enough!
"Everything You Can Imagine"
There's a part of me that wants to do as it pleases
And a part of me that don't make sense
There's a part of me that calls out to Jesus
And a part of me that rides the fence...
There's a part of me that walks the edge in the night
And a part of me that I don't know
There's a part of me that want's to give up the 'fight'
And there's a part of me that won't let go...
'Cause I've been lied to...Spit on...
Pushed down...Hit on...
I've been Cussed at...Cheated...
Used and Mistreated...
Everything you can imagine....
But I wouldn't let go...
Nothing but The Blood could set me free
So I called out to Jesus...here's what He said to me:
There's a part of me that lives inside of you
And a part of me that won't let you hide
There's a part of me that always sees you through
And a part of me with arms open wide...
There's a part of me that lived the pain you feel
A a part of me that died for you
There's a part of me with power that's real
And a part of me that makes that 'old life' new...
Nothing but My Blood can rescue you
So call on My Name...I know what you're going through
'Cause I was lied to...Spit on...
Pushed down...Hit on...
I was Cussed at...Cheated...
Used and Mistreated...
I've been through everything you can't imagine...
But I wouldn't let go...
Because I loved you...
I wouldn't let go...
~by deborah burch©
3/31/2012
I think, and you speak my thoughts completely.
Wherein lies truth, if when I die, I lose myself.
My thought and deed lying fallow in decaying tissue.
So I write to save me.
You are in every thought, every deed,
every movement that I make.
You complete me.
When I awake, the first breath that
I take is to exhale a sigh of relief.
You are still by my side.
My soul belongs to God, but my essence
lies in the intangible.
In a form acutely digestible----
to be cussed and discussed.
In discourse, to be thoroughly scrutinized,
labeled and passed on.
The song is rewrit time and time again
and the note of passion sounds
as now within me seething----flowing over.
It dances on the grass
as nymphs in springtime forests.
I close one eye and look at truth
as the side of a coin standing mute.
I look at life spinning, good—bad—good.
But who decides bad- - - good?
The spinning coin has a solid center
which we perceive as real.
The spinning word has the same illusion- - -
we have but to interpret as we see.
Life goes on, after the thrill is gone, but
the thrill goes on as long as we are not alone.
So I yelled.
I yelled and I screamed and I cussed
I snapped like a twig
Broke like a record
Exploded like dynamite
I failed at the one thing that I thought I was a pro at
Staying calm
I failed everyone around me
Why did I do it?
Why did I do it?
I can't answer that question
I don't know if I hate myself, or if I hate that I can't control myself
Maybe both?
The anger I felt; felt so strange
It was worse than any normal pain
I’d understand if you all said I was insane
I can't tell if these are tears or if it's just the rain
Am I stupid, or do I just lack a brain
Because every time I see her hurt all the emotions hit me at least a thousand times harder than a train
I'm sorry I did it, I don't know why
My goal was never to make anyone cry
Maybe the world would be better if I were to die
I don't mean that but maybe I could try
I won't actually do it, my biggest fear is saying goodbye
But if I were to say I haven't thought about it, that would be a lie
Because truthfully my life might die if I try to lie, I've seen all the signs
I try to break through this vault, but I can't no matter how much I pry and pry and pry, and I keep prying and it doesn't budge, until that day
For once in my life I don't know the right thing to say
I know actions have consequences, and I deserve to pay
My life is a game, that no one else would ever want to play
I truly am sorry, I didn't mean to betray
I'm a reject, I deserve to be sent away
But I ask one big favor, please let me stay
The Soup kitchen's queue are in line .
The economy , banjaxed and dyin' .
When Lehmans went bust
The bankers just cussed
So now , " Buddy who can spare a dime " ?.
I called up my banker , by chance .
With an invite to the " Poor Peoples " dance .
He came dressed in rags
With two plastic bags
And the ass missing , from his old pants .
No Ferraris or Mercs to be seen .
For between us , we hadn't a bean .
The soup it was cold
And the bread , it had mould
And Seamus the Chef , was a " Queen " .
The dessert trolly started to shake .
Baked Alaskas were fried like a steak .
Amid all the wailin'
In strolled Sarah Palin
" Vote me in and I'll give you a break " .
I awoke in a lather of sweat
At the characters I had just met .
With a sad sorry weep
I went straight to sleep.
"Snore it off , Seán , that's as good as 'twill get .
Perspired by Carolyn's , Limerick contest ....
I went to the hospital and they said they were going to shove a camera up my ass.
I told them that I didn't want that to happen, I told them that I was going to pass.
But they said it was too late because I'd already signed the papers that allowed them to treat me.
But I didn't want a camera up my ass, I would've rather that they used baseball bats to beat me.
They shoved the camera up my ass and it went in deep.
It really hurt because the idiots forgot to put me to sleep.
I cussed those assholes out and they said that they didn't like my attitude.
But they disliked it even more when they had to pay me two million bucks after I sued.
(This poem is only half fictional. I really did have a Colonoscopy in 2010 and I'm having to have another one next week.)
Hank was a hard workin' cowpoke who really earned his meager pay.
He rode his ass Old Red from early dawn 'til at night he hit the hay,
Fixin' fences, ropin' steers and brandin' dogies in the old corral,
But he had an odd addiction that gnawed on his pard's morale!
He was a happy yodler which is alright fer a wrangler I suppose,
But his irritatin' warblin' caused him to nearly come to blows!
At night in the bunkhouse he would even yodel in his sleep,
Addin' to the din of his pals who were known fer snorin' deep!
His yodelin' caused cattle to stampede and hosses to buck and neigh.
Caused chickens to cease layin' aigs and cantankerous mules to bray!
Porkers squealed in their sty and the hounds barked and howled,
His comrades raged and cussed and the cats all hissed and yowled!
Even rattlesnakes were flustered and slithered to hide in dens,
And bands of coyotes skulked to seek cover in the nearby fens.
Frenzied birds vacated their cozy nests and fled to distant climes,
And Cookie got upset since the guys couldn't hear his supper chimes!
The grizzled old ranch boss called Hank aside fer a serious session,
Sayin', "Son, you're creatin' havoc 'round hyar with yer damn obsession!
Take yer ass and yodler to swoon the gals at the Dry Gulch Saloon,
'Cause if'n you keep it up 'round hyar, you'll hit the road and soon!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2015 All Rights Reserved
Noisy River Bank
Sitting on a river bank, tryin to catch a catfish
Lookin up at the stars, I began to make a wish.
Well, my worms are dead and the fish won’t bite
When I heard a strange noise echo through the night.
At first there was a squeak and then a squawk
Then there was silence and nothin at all.
I figured a mouse being chased by an owl,
So, I decided to stay and listen for a while.
A mosquito lit on the top of my head
I slapped and missed and wished he was dead.
The only bite I was getting was from a yellow fly
When something scared me and I thought I’d die.
An old bull frog croaked at my feet
And I jumped for a stick and began to beat.
Well I reached for my pole leaning on a stake
Lord, wouldn’t you know it, there laid a snake.
Well he hissed at me and I cussed at him
I told him I’d get him, so I cut me a limb.
Of course, at that time, I got a bite on my pole
I just forgot about the snake curled up in the hole.
I grabbed my pole and began to real
All that trouble and danger for a gosh darn eel.
I decided to leave at that point and time
So, I left with nothin but a half-scared mind.
There was an old leprechaun chief,
His haemorrhoids caused him some grief,
So he cussed and he swore
That his butt was so sore,
And wiped with a soft shamrock leaf.
For Andrea’s limerick contest
I followed you around when we were young
I worshiped you; your praises I sung
You were so much older and wiser and right
You were my north star in my blackest night
I broke your clowns when I was three
I cried on your shoulder when I skinned my knee
You were always there when I needed a friend
You were the unwavering force that would not bend
We sang in the kitchen, you and me
Classic oldies, and ballads and Fiddle de Dee
Summertime in soprano and bass
Our own special concert in a warm homey place
I grew to my teens and you threatened the boys
Not letting them treat me like one of their toys
Then off to war you went and I cried and I prayed
That God would return you to us as we waited afraid
Home you came; we wed the loves of our life’s
Through happiness, birth and the day to day strife’s
We shared every one; burdens and bliss
Even the death of our parents, we made it through this
You moved across country but we still stayed in touch
Birthdays, holidays, grandchildren and such
But you called me tonight to give me the news
That my best friend and my brother was singing the blues
The prognosis wasn’t good; I cannot accept
I cussed, and I paced and then I just wept
Now I'm praying again that He'll answer my plea
To help you, to cure you, to keep you with me.