Best Divvy Poems
Call girl of Thulhu?
I smiled at the voice at the end of the phone.
Not been in action for many years, but had a keenness for a kill.
Sure is, I said in my youngest voice.
Happy it did not crack or give my age.
You can do some delectable things for five hundred? A question.
I said “six” to see if he would bite.
A slight hesitation
We negotiated to five fifty.
Agreed to meet at the Slingback, a seedy motel.
You could torture someone here.
No one would call the cops.
They would not show up in this divvy place
Too scary.
More than one cop had probably
already been murdered at the Slingback.
Run by Mama M,
Nickname: Mama Mortician.
Got out my knives and lovingly polished them.
They had not seen daylight since ’85 when I took out several men
No idea my trick was polishing his knives too
Farm boys, farm boys, go and do your chores
Better take your hat for it’s sunny out-of-doors
Farm boys, farm boys, gotta milk those cows
Milk-em twice a day and feed the hungry sows
Make your mother butter in the butter churn
Argue with your brother when you think it’s not your turn
Measure off the distance you both will have to run
Where it is you’ll need to go to get the milking done
Toe the mark to challenge your brother at the gate
Divvy up the pails to balance out the weight
Farm boys being farm boys down there on the farm
And you’ll milk the cows if I beat you to the barn
The lawyer's named Julius
a veritable ebriosus
(in Queen's English: perm'nently pissed)
he takes a last swig
gives a belch as of pig
from the bench: "Ouch! Again I have missed!"
"Your Worship! Your Honor!
virtuous your manner
that you're fair we humbly agree
but the bribe you are bleedin'
is well beyond reason
now, pray, set this criminal free?
"My learned colleague
the one with the wig
(I believe she's the state prosecutor)
for a meager amount
will withdraw all the counts,
wipe all evidence off her computer."
"Step forth, legal counsel
o'er the bench we will
negotiate new terms now you're plastered
approach the damned bench
please pardon my French
for Latin I haven't yet mastered
"To lighten my task
I'll partake from your flask
on financials 'tis wise to imbibe
two sips of your Cane
should rid me of pain
might I convince you to double the bribe?
"To remove any doubt,
morals I've nowt
to my pocket, not law, I'm compliant
Mr big-shot lawyer,
give me cause to respect yer
and try to squeeze more from your client!"
"After due consultation
and much apprehension",
said Julius, his look more disheveled
"This crime was hard toil
but we'll divvy the spoils
our offer's not doubled but trebled."
"On due legal analysis
this case is dismissed
and henceforth may no man refute it
I'll share in the bounty
thus though he be guilty
the wretched accused is acquitted."
28.04.2011
(This is a work of fiction in its entirety and merely a satirical look at our corrupt
justice system)
MARVIN BENET BLACKMON, JR.
Yesterday, as you remember, was just another day.
You played like a boy could with no worries in place.
Today you sing the gospel and your soul is fulfilled.
Benet, you are anointed to excel.
The stories of a Prophet who knew his way.
Oiled as a baby to be a champion.
Your grandmother was a great crusader of the cause.
You are a Mississippi State Bulldog.
Your substance will go far.
Marvin, you are your own self-worth.
MUSIC MAN
AMBLE ON.
RUMBLE,
VIBRANT, AND ALIVE
INFORMED BY PRICINPALITY
NECTAR WITH YOUR TRUMPET FLUID.
BEAUTIFULLY CULTURIZED TO CULTIVATE...
ENERGY FLOWS...
NEVERLAND IS YOUR SPIRIT.
EFFORTLESS YOU PLAY AS YOUR
TALENT IMPARTS.
BLACK AS JAZZ
LOOKS BEYOND THE CLOUDS.
ASPIRE TO CARVE YOUR OWN STYLE -
CASTE YOUR SPELL.
KEEP YOUR IDEAS TO DIVVY.
MUNIFICENCE THEREIN.
ONE LIFE YOU HAVE TO LIVE
NINE TIMES PLUS TEN.
JUST AND DEFINED HEREIN.
REMEMBER ALL THINGS POSSIBLE CAN BE ACHIEVED.
________________________________________________________|
Penned April 21, 2015!
Just because I said 'I do'
Doesn't mean I need to stand when I want to use the loo
If its brown flush it down, so the experts say
But if you stand to use the loo please leave the seat where it once did lay
When in a rush to use the privy
I feel like a complete divvy
When my posterior hits the porcelain
Where once a wooden seat had lain
So men when you stand up to pee
Think of others – especially me
Leave the seat where it once sat
And make sure you leave the beggar flat!
Achieved 7th place in contest run by SKAT
If you pull on her leg slightly lifting her skirt;
She’ll consistently remind you that you could get hurt.
She claims she’s short on attention just like a cat;
So best throw out some tricks from under your hat.
She’s an angel of mercy familiar with pain;
With the skill of a mystic that dismantles your game.
To performers as victim broken of heart;
She’s the carver of excess that could cut you apart.
She’s good and she’s bad and stays to herself;
But she keeps her binoculars there on the shelf.
He’s layered and sweetened salted with nuts;
With a curse that’s forever much like king tut.
A piece of him cares most of him don’t;
And it looks like she might but he knows that she won’t.
It’s all just diversion a genderless klatch;
Perhaps but a race that the Talley man scratched
Slinger
Waiting on the day
for the Swallow to transmute the air
between this ether and yours
patterned after an annual bedsheet
and full of a chest
swelling with blood
and a face
as forgotten as chests
buried beneath sea tides,
legendary rainbows wide
over forgetfulness -- subtle forgetfulness --
collecting material for a nest; a grave, sour
maw of disappearing Now
reappearing in your eyes
next to anti-eyes
'ere smilin' hell at this faster incompletion.
Tiptoe.
Mirror
Select. Load? Holster. Stalk? Draw.
"Do you have a moment, Miss Seer? Look what I've drawn."
Bourbon. Ex-mark. Tattoos. Born. Into
This.
Surreal. It Does. Only
Roulette. Hocus Poker. Reaching A Final Frontier
Divvy:
Brown Eyes
Coal Eyes
Wall Sockets
L.
Fire Tides
Genocides
Suit Pockets
Knell.
Slinger
You perceive a safety I count on
as we all fear we will lose
something
crucial? What is ever crucial if already
revenants bustle chameleon beneath city lights perfectly
regarding lights in wonder with other --
revenants.
I will appear before you
suddenly in the park
"Eden!"
you will laugh as though subtle darkness is a magic trick
and those anti-eyes will hide true feelings behind laughter
and I will shudder -- I once wore them, too --
and I will perceive these two sets of eyes before me,
Yours and Not Yours,
who cannot tell that this varsity jacket will soon hide more than
Sin. On your face. Syntax; Synonym; Smiling -- Antonym.
Drawn. Holes. Your face -- too memorable -- too
unforgetful, they dream
Forever Now. Beyond Sleepy Hollows.
Dying by first light,
living beneath your iron sunsets?
Your red roses kissed blooming
out of your neck?
Forever; Us; Chasms,
Angel.
Mirror
Silence. Darkness.
Each Day. Random.
Today? No.
Where
is
He?
Gummy bears!
Lollipops!
How yummy…
Can’t stop, won’t drop,
Eyes pop…
Candy shoppe!
We must go,
Me and Joe…
Chica -- Chico,
Best buds
Let’s divvy
Up this grub,
One for each…
Yum, yum
Tasty dum-dums…
Come on chum,
You want some
Bubble gum?
Have some Dante ~
Okay…
We are all done
Now, let’s run and
Have some fun
The Yenga is a nine-verse poem with no set rhyme scheme or meter, and is not syllabic.
However, its theme must 'capture the innocence of childhood'. It can be written as a solo or
with partners. The verse structure is as follows.... 3-3-3, 2-2-2, 3-3-3.
These numbers refer to lines in each verse.. Not syllables.
Folks think I'm a nice guy, to a fault I guess I am,
if those folks only knew deep down I just don't give a damn,
I'm tryin to keep my language clean like crispy Franklin notes,
I am The Cunning Linguist spittin nifty antidotes,
that cross you up the Hardaway and leave ya ankles broke,
hot feces exits out my mouth, I got a stanky throat,
that exhales dragon fire but believe this aint a roast,
there's too much jumpin off and I'm afraid it aint a joke.
Like women nowadays, I often wonder if it's me,
that sees how some are free to divvy up the wizard sleeve,
then they don't know just how they came to get the hivv disease,
deny and keep it sweet to give it up to Nick and Steve.
I get up on my soapbox when I have to drop a jewel,
the niceness gets mistaken like I still won't drop a fool,
for comin outta pocket, I aint talkin poppin tools,
I let go of the knowledge cause this dude can drop it smooth.
I'm Harry Belafonte but don't call me Mr. Tibbs,
this poetry just flows in me and what a gift it is,
you may not think my skill's correct but I insist it is,
I'm so unlike the others, verbis not ipissimis.
Confused on what that means? Well I advise you look it up,
vernacular's like stir-fry in a wok; I cook it up,
and dish out healthy servings, I won't let your brain cells starve,
in executing verbal warfare, yes I am well armed.
My aim will blow ya head off like Bin Laden, picture that,
the YouTube vids and image will confirm this vicious fact,
don't need Marines and choppers flying into distant lands,
I'll do you like Waist Deep but they won't find the missing hand.
My adjectives are ravenous but that's just certain ones,
my scarface resonates of how I kill these words for fun,
to crush the competition and I do it big like Pun,
then ride off in a Matrix, Cunning Linguist, I'm The One.
©2010
Her Mam did for the rich Wool toffs,
days chocka block with chores.
Her fella was a plazzy gent—
A few jars opened doors.
A proper jarg johnny he used;
he thought hi’self real cool.
In the shade of the Whalley Abbey,
the banks of Otterspool.
She was sacked off by the Big House;
for bloating like a toad.
The sconner did like a runner;
she was proper devoed.
Eleanor Rigby was nineteen
when the Great War broke out.
She worked at t’ alehouse in The Lanes;
crashed with this divvy lout.
This RC priest offered her a job
as the scullery maid.
Her threads were mostly ant wacky;
skint from the tuppence paid.
He made her attend Sunday church
and to learn the new hymn.
She had managed to scrounge a pair
of boss new trabs from him.
The scran for tea was abar sound—
she shared with a few birds.
They rolled own ciggies from backy
and shared one another’s thirds.
The declaration of the war,
surely did her head in.
A baltic day in thirty-nine,
at t’ ozzy, she didn’t win.
At St Peter’s Church in Woolton,
Eleanor was laid t’ rest;
one of the many lonely people …
A scouser—one o’ the best.
Start spyt
Wha’you’sayin
Wonder by field
I live
To divvy divulging
I breath only heavily
My Asians are healthy
Folks think I'm a nice guy, to a fault I guess I am, if
those folks only knew deep down I just don't give a
d@mn,
I'm tryin to keep my language clean like crispy
Franklin notes, I am that cunning linguist spittin nifty
antidotes,
that cross you up the Hardaway and leave ya ankles
broke, hot feces exits out my mouth, I got a stanky
throat,
that exhales dragon fire but believe this aint a roast,
there's too much jumpin off and I'm afraid it aint a
joke.
Like women nowadays, I often wonder if it's me, that
sees how some are free to divvy up the wizard
sleeve,
then they don't know just how they came to get the
hivv disease, deny and keep it sweet to give it up to
Nick and Steve.
I get up on my soapbox when I have to drop a jewel,
the niceness gets mistaken like I still won't drop a
fool,
for comin outta pocket, I aint talkin poppin tools, I let
go of the knowledge cause this dude can drop it
smooth.
I'm Harry Belafonte but don't call me Mr. Tibbs, this
poetry just flows in me and what a gift it is,
you may not think my skill's correct but I insist it is,
I'm so unlike the others, verbis not ipissimis.
Confused on what that means? Well I advise you
look it up, vernacular's like stir-fry in a wok; I cook it
up,
and dish out healthy servings, I won't let your brain
cells starve, in executing verbal warfare, yes I am
well armed.
My aim will blow ya head off like Bin Laden, picture
that, the YouTube vids and image will confirm this
vicious fact,
don't need Marines and choppers flying into distant
lands, I'll do you like Waist Deep but they won't find
the missing hand.
My adjectives are ravenous but that's just certain
ones, my scarface resonates of how I kill these
words for fun,
to crush the competition and I do it big like Pun, then
ride off in a Matrix, cunning linguist, I'm The One.
pitter
patter
goes the
rain
upon
the roofs
upon the
streets
upon the
heads
of us all
walking
in the
west
to our
nearest
grocery
store or
convenient
store
with our
common
human
thirst
coming
from the
daily
grind, yet
our own
exertion
here is
absolutely
nothing
like that of
the people
in the lands
far far away,
whose
resources we
have become
experts
at squeezing
every last drop
into our cars
into our products
into our lives
& now back into
our
bodies
as we take the
last refuge---that
very nectar of
life which keeps
all of us humans
trucking here on
this planet---
water.
as bottled water
runs more expensive than
gasoline,
coca-cola &
nestle (to name
a couple) start to build “the next
empire”---one in which
fresh water
gets sucked up from wherever it
naturally flows
& pumped into tankers
owned by private companies
which will
divvy up the goods to the highest
bidders
in the near future.
so to the people of the third world---
whose most valued natural resource,
of which whom some walk
miles to get every day---
we of the
west,
we of the 1st world,
raise our middle fingers up with both hands in
tandem
shouting
“good luck, suckers!
we welcome your business in the future---
be it selling you bottled water or
cemetery plots, coffins, urns, and
shovels.”
Meddling money
plants stakes
to divvy tangible
on leveraged
need.
Stalwart purpose
unfettered by
those dangled lies
triumphs over
fear
despite confusing
covert attacks
designed to blur
conception of
nature.
Divinity of self
only rules
once freed from
binding loyalty
seized
at the barrel of
their tome
exclusionary to
force complicit
order.
My breath shall
cease long
before my hope
takes flesh in
word.
If I were the only person left in the world
Besides you, of course, I am wondering,
Do you think we would be able to get along?
Or would you insist I adopt your way of thinking?
Could we get together and come to agreement,
Or would you demand everything go your way?
If I were the only person left in the world
Besides you, of course, I am wondering,
Would we be willing to divvy up and divide equally?
Or would you want far more than your share?
Could we learn to live side by side amicably,
Or would I always have to be afraid?
If I were the only person left in the world
Besides you, of course, I am wondering …
Dare I trust we’d be available in each other’s need?
Or must I be on guard, lest you take advantage?
After all, if two people cannot live together in peace
How can we expect millions of people to do so?
Written April 7, 2022