Best Dispensers Poems
Not-So-Heroic Couplets
by Donald Trump
care of Michael R. Burch
To outfox the pox:
kill yourself first, with Clorox!
And since death is the goal,
mainline Lysol!
No vaccine?
Just chug Mr. Clean!
Is a cure out of reach?
Fumigate your lungs, with bleach!
To immunize your thorax,
destroy it with Borax!
To immunize your bride,
drown her in Opti-cide!
To end all future gridlocks,
gargle with Vaprox!
Now, quick, down the Drain-o
with old Insane-o NoBrain-o!
Trump’s real goals are obvious
and yet millions of Americans remain oblivious.
—Michael R. Burch
Less Heroic Couplets: Just Desserts
by Michael R. Burch
“The West Antarctic ice sheet
might not need a huge nudge
to budge.”
And if it does budge,
denialist fudge
may force us to trudge
neck-deep in sludge!
NOTE: The first stanza is a quote by paleoclimatologist Jeremy Shakun in Science magazine.
Less Heroic Couplets: Miss Bliss
by Michael R. Burch
Domestic “bliss”?
Best to swing and miss!
Less Heroic Couplets: Then and Now
by Michael R. Burch
BEFORE: Thanks to Brexit, our lives will be plush! ...
AFTER: Crap, we’re going broke! What the hell is the rush?
Less Heroic Couplets: Dear Pleader
by Michael R. Burch
Is our Dear Pleader, as he claims, heroic?
I prefer my presidents a bit more stoic.
Less Heroic Couplets: Less than Impressed
by Michael R. Burch
for T. M., regarding certain dispensers of lukewarm air
Their volume’s impressive, it’s true ...
but somehow it all seems “much ado.”
Less Heroic Couplets: Poetry I
by Michael R. Burch
Poetry is the heart’s caged rhythm,
the soul’s frantic tappings at the panes of mortality.
Less Heroic Couplets: Poetry II
by Michael R. Burch
Poetry is the trapped soul’s frantic tappings
at the panes of mortality.
Less Heroic Couplets: Seesaw
by Michael R. Burch
A poem is the mind teetering between fact and fiction,
momentarily elevated.
Less Heroic Couplets: Passions
by Michael R. Burch
Passions are the heart’s qualms,
the soul’s squalls, the brain’s storms.
Keywords/Tags: Donald Trump, coronavirus, president, poet, poems, poetry, heroic couplets, couplet, humor, humorous, Clorox, Lysol, disinfectants, light verse, parody, satire, America, USA, giggle, political, natural disasters
Our public toilets have been locked
to stop people from stealing
The depths that some folk stoop to
is really quite revealing
They stole the toilet paper
from dispensers on the wall
And hand sanitiser from the sink
folk were left with none at all
The actions of selfish people
have spoilt it for the rest
And if you’ve bladder issues
you’re now put to the test
There’s no toilets available
if caught short when out shopping
Beware of people in the aisles
if they’re crossed legged and hopping!
03/30/20
No one in particular (in the wake of our dreams)
We don’t look like they do,
graphic replicas of a life in tatters,
drifting on lonesome clouds
Dove’s wing spread
capturing the wind,
waving goodbye to an existence
that dreams in black and white,
fashioning commercials
like chip and salsa dispensers
Camouflaged by sadness,
greens and browns woven in corduroy overalls
Contemplating the loss
before the beginning creates a title
and words have only meaning
for others who chose to read
and believe that each day
is a jewel in the crown of the month
Floating on seas of discontent
even though heart shaped sails
reflect on horizons
much closer than they appear
but still so far away
that silhouettes resemble unmentionables
as others keep a watchful eye
for anything that even seems
like a tide fueled rumor,
just because they can
Still, we don’t look like they do,
maybe because our visions come through
a brilliant sunrise and we realize
we do need somebody
and we won’t hesitate to cherish,
quietly of course,
those who come to touch us
in the wake of our dreams,
hiding in plain sight,
disguised as no one
in particular
“The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
but I have promises to keep,
and miles to go before I sleep” (Robert Frost).
The woods know my secrets
For I open my heart
In this enclosed sanctuary of God
As folded branches draw my eyes
Upward, ever upward
Towards the emerald ceiling
With a skylight
From which streams
The light of heaven
Pure and sweet
On my face
The trees are my counselors
Sacred dispensers
Of the mysteries of God
Sentinels tall and majestic
Guarding my hushed sacred hours
Of contemplation and renewal
The would be silence
Sweetly disturbed
By the sounds of His creatures
Filling God’s outdoor sanctuary
With a heavenly hymn of praise
Each trail leads me deeper and deeper
For my heart longs to be
In the Holy of Holies
In the very presence of the Creator
On holy ground
Yes, Yes!
He is here
His presence
Envelopes me
After my communion
The closing benediction of sunlight
Guides me home
The thinning trees whisper
“Forget us not” stories to me
As I pass them by
Stories of long ago pilgrims
From another time
Yet one with me
The same
Pilgrims in search of sanctuary
A place of solace
A place of tenderness
A place of discovery
Where they come to learn
The miles left to go
Till journey’s end
When they must lie down
In well deserved sleep
Safe under the shadows
Of God’s mighty trees
Resting, resting
Blissful sleep
In the Sanctuary
In HIS sanctuary
In the woods…..
For Caleb’s Smith’s In the Woods Contest
September 10, 2013
“The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
but I have promises to keep,
and miles to go before I sleep” (Robert Frost).
The woods know my secrets
For I open my heart
In this enclosed sanctuary of God
As folded branches draw my eyes
Upward, ever upward
Towards the emerald ceiling
With a skylight
From which streams
The light of heaven
Pure and sweet
On my face
The trees are my counselors
Sacred dispensers
Of the mysteries of God
Sentinels tall and majestic
Guarding my hushed sacred hours
Of contemplation and renewal
The would be silence
Sweetly disturbed
By the sounds of His creatures
Filling God’s outdoor sanctuary
With a heavenly hymn of praise
Each trail leads me deeper and deeper
For my heart longs to be
In the Holy of Holies
In the very presence of the Creator
On holy ground
Yes, Yes!
He is here
His presence
Envelopes me
After my communion
The closing benediction of sunlight
Guides me home
The thinning trees whisper
“Forget us not” stories to me
As I pass them by
Stories of long ago pilgrims
From another time
Yet one with me
The same
Pilgrims in search of sanctuary
A place of solace
A place of tenderness
A place of discovery
Where they come to learn
The miles left to go
Till journey’s end
When they must lie down
In well deserved sleep
Safe under the shadows
Of God’s mighty trees
Resting, resting
Blissful sleep
In the Sanctuary
In HIS sanctuary
In the woods…..
Eileen Manassian
Baseball cards and hula hoops
Baloney sandwich, Campbell’s soup
Howdy Doody and Mickey Mouse
Mamie and Ike in the White House
American Bandstand, Rock 'n Roll
Elvis the Pelvis, Nat King Cole
Pez Dispensers and Kool-Aid
Bedtime for Bonzo, Panty Raids
Oscar Mayer’s Wienermobile
Superman was the ‘Man of Steel’
Archie & Veronica, Mad Magazine
Skirts and Bobby-Sox, Jukebox Scenes
The Roadrunner, Tom and Jerry
Durward Kirby and a Moore named Gary
The Price is Right, Let’s Make a Deal
Hostess Twinkies – b & w newsreels
A Dog named Lassie and Rin Tin Tin
Yankees and Celtics always win
Mickey Mantle, Ernie Banks
Whitey Ford, Hammerin' Hank
Joe McCarthy and the Red Scare
Semi-Crewcuts or Slicked-back hair
The 1950’s weren’t built to last
Still and all ~ quite a cast!
I’m a young woman living the American dream
working in a fast food restaurant
this is not what I dreamed of but
I got to be supporting my family,
to make them proud
Working in the McDonalds restaurant is my American dream
Flipping Big Macs, Serving them, calling customers names,
and writing on the burgers with mayonnaise
They don’t know what’s in the burgers
so they won’t know what’s inside that will kill them
I dropped a few burgers on the floor
I don’t tell them, just pick it back up
& act like nothing happened, they won’t know
McDonalds is my American dream
Ice cubes from the dispensers are as cold as the winter skies
playing a role for the drinks, that are nastier then you think
not knowing where your meat comes from
but the workers still cooks them serve it on a bun for you
that’s my job and the American dream
nothing can beat that!
That’s the American dream I’m living in, what about you?
Who dares to be so presumptuous as to declare Nature's
wonders……flowers, trees, birds and bees……unimportant
A tree reaches forth to receive the sunlight
It's branches are welcoming of birds in flight
A flower sprinkles its scent upon the air
In order that bees may find it there
Is there a plan for mankind to make a recompense?
Cut down the tree it's more useful as a wooden fence
Birds are pollinators and dispensers of seeds
They fulfill a place to grace our spiritual needs
If bees disappear it would indeed be bad luck
Humans would then look at empty plates and say WTF?
I attended a meeting with, supposedly a friend, and was introduced to
Despised, Dehumanized, Decreased, Diminished, Disregarded, and Devalued,
who, by the way, wanted me to become like them. While there, I also had
a rendezvous with Dejection and Rejection? And there were many others
whose names I never learned.
I had never been more alone and unsupported when I was put in a room
with Marginalized, Minimized, and Unrecognized as I struggled to survive.
In my attempt to stay on 'top of things', it seemed everyone present went
'low' on me.
It didn't stop there. I also met other attendees like Overcharged, Overlooked,
and Overworked. In my futile pursuit of resolutions, endless despair seemed
to fill the air, and I discovered rootless dispensers of negativities.
But in spite of all that I saw and felt, I kept looking, because
I believed that somewhere out there was a world filled
with people of goodwill who really do care.
In spite of all the resistance I encountered
and the lies that I heard, I dared to keep listening,
because deep in my heart I could hear 'Words of Faith'.
Faith in The Father.
Faith in The Family.
Faith in The Fellowship.
Faith in The Future.
Faith in Friendships.
So, keep believing if you dare,
And you too will hear 'Words of Faith'.
041622PSCtest. A BRIAN STRAND PREMIERE CHOICE, Brian Strand
bobbing heads of pez dispensers
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
To teach kids about hieroglyphs
We can show them doctor's prescription slips
For this illegible version
Exactly tallies its description
Medicos scrawl letters with awkward curves
And to read you've to strain nerves
While reading the prescribed drugs
Often a dispenser sneers and shrugs
The prescription of 'pheniramine'
Often gets misread as 'amphetamine'
If they write 'ethambutol'
It reads: ''Thy death toll''
And when they pen 'dexamethasone'
It appears like 'desist my son'
Many die of fatal reactions when dispensers
misread doctor's prescriptions
Handwritten prescription has become
A potentil health-hazard
Which requires urgent and immediate safeguard
To teach kids about hieroglyphs
We can show them doctor's prescription slips
For this illegible version
Exactly tallies its description
Medicos scrawl letters with awkward curves
And to read you've to strain nerves
While reading the prescribed drugs
Often a dispenser sneers and shrugs
The prescription of 'pheniramine'
Often gets misread as 'amphetamine'
If they write 'ethambutol'
It reads: ''Thy death toll''
And when they pen 'dexamethasone'
It appears like 'desist my son'
Many die of fatal reactions when dispensers
misread doctor's prescriptions
Handwritten prescription has become
A potentil health-hazard
Which requires urgent and immediate safeguard
I am a eukaryotic cell with various organelles,
I am present in various shapes of stellate, spherical and knob threads.
Nucleus is my brain,
Which has karyolymph and a nuclear membrane.
Closer to it, lies the ER which spreads like a huge network,
And carries out its repair work.
Beside ER lies the flattened sacs of Golgi Bodies,
Which performs the job of storing and packing proteins.
Lysosomes are fearless protectors,
Who act upon the worn out cell parts acting as dispensers.
I gain all my power from the ATP molecules released by mitochondria,
The power house of every cell body.
This is how I am able to perform all life processes,
For I have my special jewels, my cell organelles.
~Deveshi Hans
Some guys sprinkle when they have a tinkle
and spurt wee wee all over the floor
Then they leave the lavatory seat up
these two actions I simply abhor!
The ladies sit down on the toilet
when they are in need of the loo
But they always take ages to finish
it’s no wonder there's often a queue!
But my biggest bug bear when I'm sitting
is that there is no darn toilet roll
I have to fumble about for a tissue
so I can wipe my dirty butt hole!
LAST VERSE INSPIRED BY GOING TO A VENUE WHICH HAD WALL MOUNTED DISPENSERS ... FOUR OF THEM IT WAS IMPOSSIBLE TO GET THE PAPER OUT OF .... ARGH, THANKFULLY I ALWAYS CARRY TISSUE IN MY BAG
08/14/20
Her optimism solid in her roots of red white and blue
Gallant knight was coming in princely form any time now
A waitress in every small town of America
Grinned her grin, showing her cutesy petootsieness
Her over polite ways parking a place until he arrived.
Hold tight, America, keep those dreams.
She filled those sugar shakers, and ketchup dispensers
Waiting on families who came every Fourth of July
When are you going to settle down? The daddy would ask.
His wife would smile, pretending she liked her local family.
She kept her dreams to herself figuring sharing would scare the prince.
Many years later I go through these small towns
See these women whose nights are filled with cats and romance novels
Their princes, cowboys, and FBI agents are not coming.
But who am I to discourage hope? Year after year I say nothing.
Amazed at her optimism in the form of red white and blue.
Watching her put out the bunting ever Fourth of July
Hoping to attract her perfect dreamland prince or cowboy