Best Deathblow Poems
I have claimed to be apolitical but there are times
when the crop is ready for harvesting, so I put fuel
in the John Deere, ink in my pen and wrote...
He'll get millions of votes for that nicked ear
The vengeful narcissist people should fear
Picasso President
With malicious intent
He should be given the famous Bronx Cheer!
It looks like the graffiti on the wall
Four more years and America will fall
Trump will blow his own horn
Guilty of loving p.o.r.n.
And the rape of all the women he's mauled
There's another Trump, Junior's daughter, Kai
Brought a tear or two to dear grandpa's eye
It was her intention
During the convention
To convince people that he's a good guy
Melania was there but just for show
Since he paid off Stormy... well uh, you know
She has kept her distance
Abhors his existence
She can't be with him since he's had a ho
His Trumpeters may be humbled one day
Those who will vote for him and have their say
Those who are so headstrong
Thinking he's done no wrong
The beast who led America astray
He hasn't made the US great again
He's torn the nation apart... friend from friend
Time will tell the story
But there'll be no glory
Picasso President is no Godsend.
Trump toadies must be in a state of bliss
When his venom spews like a snake, hiss, hiss
They praise the dictator
The alienator
His villainy too baleful to dismiss
I've never liked saying, "I told you so"
But D J Trump is a jerk and a schmo
He's a divisor of men
When he's elected again
His tyranny will reign like a deathblow
I've read a few posts about Trump and yet
Not one comment did I write to upset
Another poet's view
I expect that from you
Without hostility or epithet
.
The Indian Healer gathered willow
Dried medicinal bark like dried tallow
When fever came to the camp
Small dose when with fever damp
Relieves many of tribe from the deathblow
When Chucky Groundhog comes above,
He's looking for a lady love.
If he sees shadow,
It is spring's deathblow.
For six long weeks, winter won't move.
Time did as time does and flew on by
It left me with a distant stare wondering, but why?
With brittle bones and shades of grey
All time had in me was just another prey
Its countdown instantaneously set aglow
Its renewing and degenerating flow a deathblow
Released from its death grip now taking shape
My heart beats in the wind like a flying cape
Time dictates as grey cover arrests a bright shiny day
It flies freely as white clouds along the blue sky
My heart is collecting in the silver ashtray
As I smoke a pack forest fires everyday
I’ve clocked some irrational fears
More than once, sold and bought into pointless ideas
Where did it all go, this time I need to be brave?
Because time takes what time never gave
I want to be a farmer but my soil is oh, so po –
We gathered up some chicken poo and spread it with a hoe.
We plowed the dirt, amended it and straightened every row.
Upon the soil we sowed the seed we bought to sow.
We had the visions in our heads of how the food would grow.
And that we would upon success the bounties bestow.
We planted some tomato plants to use in gumbo.
Too soon, they grew lanky with no fruit, and yellow.
The lettuce germinated but received a quick deathblow.
Beets were dwarfed above the ground no growth below.
Not like the visions in our heads of how the plants would grow.
With twenty beans of bounty eaten, we did not bestow.
I want to be a farmer that can watch her veggies flow.
Fresh food to serve at the table from our garden furrow
So, even though success was slim, I’ll remember my motto.
Try, try, and try again…forgetting disappointment and sorrow.
Renewed are visions in my head of how our food will grow.
We’ll pick a spot that has more sun, amend the soil and sow.
(INSPIRED BY: "If you want to be a farmer... "
Written by: Doris Culverhouse)
© July 10, 2010
Dane Smith-Johnsen
Oh...and hello
to you, some hours past, I
returned from counseling,
(hence this boy yent -
albeit beastie boy
figuratively basking
in fading afterglow)
great kickstarter session,
countless moments ago,
sans treatment plan,
she facilitated emotional airflow
i.e. Stephanie Dodds,
(sat straight as an arrow)
whereat this client purged, avow
hid lee, his psycho
logical reflux backflow
(Matthew Scott Harris) did crow
as said professionally trained
medicine woman actively listened,
(no doubt other male patients
similar to yours truly entertained
(alignment with see
thing hormonal concurrence,
where ego super vies iz
Id dee hot - hook line, and sinker
attributed to Sigmund Freud,
who sired, midwifed, and fathered
psychoanalytic theories)
sexual kindled fantasies,
viz being bedfellow
this soul, hood doth not bellow,
but keeps mum
(during my allotted time),
yet willingly shares
with utter strangers
intimate gal olive
hunt ting fantasy,
that doth beshadow
obviously no intent to breach
such prurient thoughts, bestow
foolscap upon mine noggin,
and most definitely blow
future appointments
with aesthetically pleasing
(tomb maa cryptic) bowwow
wing hot diggity
dog inner primate, perhaps,
and not surprisingly get brow
beaten, where dire
erect tor of facility
wilt hell me
"go take a hike to
penile solitary bungalow,"
where all manner of
libidinous desires wanna burrow
(where warren peace
can thrive hare and now),
on par with rabbit - burr reader,
which confinement would
not principally peter out
till dawning transgression vetted,
and avered final cockrow
trumpeted, norte - til last cornrow
reaped, hence unable
to thwart counterblow
permanently, doth nada
different she hate
lustful zeal from eye
dims sum – genital fateful dayglow,
thence high lee
grant ting deathblow
to testosterone laden satiety,
randy proclivity, and
concupiscent adoration from
combine nation of #endow
ments to ghost of - Grant
yule leases eyebrow
raising candy cane upon fallow
da weeder foreshadow
wing sowing field of poetically
wet dreams plying fecund,
feminine, and fertile ground
godaddy on his gangplow.
Holding hands as we walk between headstones
Feeling like a cyclone trapped in a gemstone
Emotions materialize like amber in the concrete
Personified Hellfire and brimstone, turning birthstones to bloodstones
Laughing like a psycho as she leaves me hallow
So I bestow a craked skull to Apollo
I did it just to watch the sun bleed
Luna delivers the deathblow, as I sit on his throne like a pharaoh
Luna's Lunatic, her faithful fanatic
A simple spell, potent potion I become frantic
Kill the light, slay the day, bleed the holy man
A little lunar lust and I become manic
Fighting sanity as the moon begins to rise
A deathly omen of genocidal demise
Howls fill the night, a nocturnal death knell
Last breath, final wish as I gently close your eyes
Dill pickle hated him so
Because he stank badly
Dill pickle screamed just go
Blue cheese wept thus sadly
When I leave the fridg, bro
I'll stink ever much mo
Dill pickle grew older
Fermenting like a bozo
Then opening his holder
A stink scent deathblow
Suddenly without bedmate and counterpart
one month shy of fifty years, no deity could answer
razor sharp emotional pain cut to the quick
recollecting ballroom dancer
himself as a handsome youth so graceful and suave,
fast as Bill Haley, or comet
and lightly afoot in seventh heaven as a prancer
oh..and ever the debonair, humorous, and loving romancer
where pixie dust sprinkled via an invisible en trancer.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Uterine/ovarian Cancer metastasized
dealing deathblow, and took more than mother away
her rigor mortis terminated love labor lost,
whence second love sans father,
his hands no longer did oh bay,
whose once passion to ply his creative handiwork
heartfelt interest hardened as sun baked clay
where formerly, he spent energy and time
drafting designs and building ornate creations
most every night and day,
which lifelong penchant to draw
(deepseated and etched within his genes)
until profound grief did flay
dealt mortal kombat towards,
whence toiling at basement workbench
colored his world blackish gray
nor would he respond, and only tearful sorrow
exuded upon losing the special maiden, whom he lay
down and begot thyself and two sisters,
during living years sans lightness of being an a may
fly expert designer, creator and builder –
during me chilhood objects like play
house and Flintsone car
(with license plate to boot), beaming with ray
dee ants at products of imagination got wrought,
until grim reaper did slay
purposefulness and will power to remain alive
pronounced sadness witness loss of appetite
and considerable diminishing beefiness obvious
without him getting atop scale for a weigh
but fate smiled upon accursed widowerhood,
and now for quite some time,
a gal took hull hiking to history
and the restaurant at the end
of the galaxy they went – yay!
Goodbye broken heart,? ?so long sorrow;
my beloved is by my side today,
I won't need yesterday's pains tomorrow
Each failed romance seemed a deathblow
that rendered my world barren and gray.
Goodbye heartbreak,? ?so long sorrow.
Old hatreds and hurts,? ?i used to borrow
as armor, to shield me from the fray.
I won't need yesterday's pains tomorrow!
No more, in morose misery,? ?do i wallow.
Tears and fears can't hang me in their sway.
Goodbye heartbreak,? ?so long sorrow
No longer does self-pity rip and harrow,
Ancient injuries are starting to fade away
I won't? ?need yesterday's pains tomorrow
Each moment once was too bitter to swallow.
Now the savor of your love flavors every day
Goodbye broken heart,? ?so long sorrow;
I won't need yesterday's pains tomorrow.
The giant’s eyes have closed.
Guards stand ready to deal the deathblow.
A hush—
The cheering crowd remembers
It’s not over until the last breath escapes.
The sun is shining, and the sky is blue
The robin on an olive tree singing;
Chirp, chirp, chirp until it flew
I wonder what’s it saying?
School’s out, and the children are holidaying.
In an isolated field, the girl walks;
The paedophile had been watching
To lure her to his home with sweet talks.
The apple dropped and fell to the ground
By my feet, it has been crushed;
How long will it be around
Or from existence, it will be brushed?
From a distance, the lady arrived at a house,
With sophisticated clothes and good looks;
The old man waiting for her like a timid mouse
Later he paid her and another date he books.
From yesterday, continued today, also tomorrow,
Episodes in life pass, and more will be created;
As for me, I see events becoming deathblow
The thirst for evil it’s unbelievable underrated.
05/01/22
This or That, Vol 9 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Tsunami
Clinging to a tree my might is numb
Teeth chattering, soaked in seaweed I succumb
to the shores of doom, the tides violent surge
Adrift and marooned all owed to a sudden urge
After the party I woke up on a tropical island
Wild rainforest and coconut groves, tailor made in Thailand
The Turtle Island, underwaters heaven
We were seven, gone snorkeling the night before
None of which were ones who washed ashore
I heard scrambling voices from below
less those who didn’t survive the deathblow
Lungs spewing up ocean water, not the timeless turquoise,
but the stormy muddled wash, murky, writhing wildly
sirening a crushing noise
Twigs, glass, and storms debris rips through skin
Blood seeps down red rivers running thin
soaked thoroughly, bringing shivers
As tidal waves and ruthless rain cease their wells,
instinctively the islanders help each other through
the fallen landscapes
As the beached turtles struggle in their shells,
who once glided effortlessly in the sea
I know what I must do
Keep with the spirit of aloha
and stay until the sky becomes blue
Then set the turtles free
Perversion.? ?Hidden deep inside
it roils and coils?; ?wrestles and writhes
screams,? ?gnashes,? ?gnaws and cries;
longing to tear the wings from flies
No volition to kill-? ?not the aim.
Rather,? ?to punish,? ?is the game.
Ignore deathblow,? ?purpose to maim;
in the wake,? ?leave broken and lame.
Pain persitent, ?it seeks to bring.
Perversion.! ?Lusts only to inflict suffering;
it insinuates to you?; ?it whispers to me
"make them hurt,? ?then you'll be free".
Marvelous Maxine Hunkel, heroine cyclone,
With her amazing power gets anyone blown...!
Through her abductor scientist Morrow the mad,
With vast violent velocity she got clad...!
Her simple sneeze could destroy her granny’s garage,
She could sleep in tornado as though in mirage...!
She could dare the very Captain America,
As though overpowered by nude nostalgia...!
The offensive whirlwind she could, like wind-gust, strike,
Could be cool like breeze, she could also turn deathlike...!
Noh-Varr, the non-hurt, Cyclone could deadly damage,
Tough turbulently tense tempers she could manage...!
Hulkling, the sovereign of the odd outer space,
Cyclone could hit easily with her ace-pace raze...!
Though operations of Cyclone Cyclops could know,
He could be, yet, shaken by her dazzling deathblow...!
Beast, the monstrously dysderids Dracula dies,
Of Cyclone's torrential terror hits and fast flies...!
Daredevil who could brutally stand all alone,
Could not stand alone against lone flown Cyclone zone...!
Could Hank Pym defeat Cyclone by his pert power?
Who does cower, dour, glower, shower and tower...???
24 November 2022
Moon Knight Friend or Foe 3 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori