Best Drubbing Poems


Premium Member Beyond the Bloom of Starlight

Beyond the sun's celestial dominion, 
past purple shimmers of twilight,
I delve far beyond moonlight's golden glow 
into the darkness of pilloried memories,
continually searching for answers but fail to find
those that keep my heart fettered in chains.

Within my restless sleep reveries trespass,
flowing through saturnine channels of my mind,
flooding my heart until only sorrow remains
with pensive images I thought I'd left behind.

I'm blinded, not by the bloom of starlight, 
but by bewildering moments in time.
Dismal are the murky shadows looming
in the corners of these cavernous hollows. 
They hover over my drubbing heart, 
whispering taunts in descending echoes.
I grow impatient to end their clamor.

High is the morning's rushing tide,
reaching its frothy fingers out for me. 
I rest on grains of moist ochre sand,
winnowing far beyond the limits 
of disconsolate bereavement.

It's here that Autumn's demise 
wears a shroud of withered leaves.
I lie quietly, waiting to close my eyes,
my tormented heart lingering in grief
that has haunted me since long ago.
As the sun begins its ascent from the sea,
dawn disturbs my quest for eternal peace. 


October 8, 2022
2022 Marathon Mile 16 Contest
Sponsored by Mark Toney
~~~~~~~~~
Originally posted on 10~20~2016
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The Corner

Twelve rounds of excitement
Two rivals smiling in the middle of enchantment

The bell rang...
Both fighters were wild
Two rough hands still mild
The bell rang again -- end of first round.

Second round...
Gaiting horses, eluding kicks and punches
Baiting bodies, protruding hunches

Third round...
Fighters in merry-go-round
Hide and seek on square ground

Fourth round...
Faces smearing, eyes rolling
Bodies perspiring, allies chanting

Fifth round...
Feet hovering, foot work disintegrated
Temperature rising, hard punches connected

Sixth round...
Audience clapping; boxers hitting
Attacks jabbing, gloves slugging

Seventh round...
Whacking arm follows, gloves batting
Ulnar bone gallows, heads swatting

Eighth round...
The champ fighter grinning, nailing one hard scour
Second fighter fainting, flailing above the litted floor

Ninth round...
Stronger fighter grinning again with right hook
Left hook thrashing, down the second fighter of blind look

Tenth round...
Challenger flogging, kept on rising
Challenger pelting, the champ fell on floor gasping

Eleventh round...
Both warriors pummeling, whipping, jostling
Switching, clubbing, lashing, drubbing
Both fighters fell on adulated white floor
Before the ninth count both warriors stood tall 
  on wrestled floor

Twelfth round...
Last two minutes of peppering round
Both fighters staggering until the challenger dropped first and gaunts.
Champ still standing, waiting for the ten counts...

Last twenty five seconds of the final round,
First fallen fighter with a bigger heart stands
Champ dropped on his knees --
Laid flat on aproned, famed canvass
Ten counts numbered as confetti lands...

The winner and challenger standing in the corner, beaten and bruised
Bleeding profusely after winning a dream never cruised.

THE DIDDLER

THE DIDDLER
 
Run Diddy! Run!! 
Diddy did it, caught up in his wild fun.²

Daring Diddy, the dexterous diddler,  
Danced through daylight, a deft dealer. 
Draped in dreams, a dainty draughtsman,  
Doodling daisies, defying the dour dam.6

Drawing deep from the draught of desire,
Diddy’s doings, a dynamic & dashing pyre.
Dusk descended, deep and dark,  
Diddy’s deeds became his dooms-tack.¹°

Darting through the dim-lit streets,  
Devising, designing, dexterous feats.
A diddler, true, in every deed,  
Driven not by greed, but by a different creed.¹4

Dipping down, Diddy's desires never get dull,
Doing dirty daring deeds, Diddy did it all,
Dawgs drubbing through Diddy's doors,
Bro, lending helping hands means nothing to us!¹8

Dancing, dripping, daring to dream,  
Diddy's doings, a dazzling beam.
Here's to Diddy, the diddler, devoid of dread,  
Daring to do what others dare not tread.²²

Dancing through life, a dashing display,  
Diddy’s deeds, an alliterative array.
Though Diddler weaves magic with every verse,
Diddy fled the public's eye & his Badboy universe.²6


VICK MANUEL POETRY {VMP}
FORM: Alliteration/Rhymes 
Image by: Quincy Martin
Copyright ©?March 2024.


#diddydidit #thediddler #badboy4life #cîrocvodka #pdiddy


A Portrait of George Zimmerman

A Portrait of George Zimmerman

By Elton Camp

It was the meeting room of the local KKK
Genii, Hydras, Titans, Furies present that day
The Grand Cyclops was to direct the meet
So he had already donned his white sheet

A Confederate battle flag was on display
A sign declared, “God bless James Earl Ray” 
A picture of robed men and flaming cross
Showed, of fair play, they had a total loss

The infamous “N” word was bandied about
Of their sentiments, there can be no doubt
“Brothers, robe up so the meeting can begin”
The Grand Cyclops’ words activated the men

From a cabinet, their robes they withdrew
White hoods pulled over their heads too
Onstage, an American flag hung from a pole
Hands on hearts, they reverently did extol

With the Klavern members all properly regaled
The Grand Cyclops, minority groups assailed
Jews, blacks, Catholics, gays got a drubbing
“All these filthy critters need a good scrubbing.”

Sending blacks to Africa, the Grand Cyclops advocated
And told how their “uppity ways” he so intensely hated
“Brothers, we now have a new model who we praise.”
From a picture, a concealing cloth he did raise

A photo of a man with cuts on the back of his head
“God bless George Zimmerman,” the caption read
The whole Klavern clapped and with a frenzied shout
Showed they had a new hero they could rave about
© Elton Camp  Create an image from this poem.

Perdition Be Damned

Perdition Be Damned!

Body electric zapped
lower gastrointestinal tract
wracked with wretchedness
pitted, rocked, and tortured
severe muscle spasms cramp
deathly hallowed deliverance

beseech divine creator to exorcise relief
any panacea trumpeted vetoed
pestilential nausea diarrhea
wreaks relentless havoc
horrid ordeal twists insides
lack strength to live

breathing a laborious effort
bedrest temporarily alleviates
generally healthy ironclad junket
weatherbeaten rickety ship of state
restorative sought trouncing unwell
corporeal self against torture

assailing, castrating, 
and drubbing existence
avocations ordinarily promulgating 
resplendent joie de vivre
squelched, scotched, and sabotaged,
courtesy minuscule mailer daemons

emotions unlikely culprit,
though times gone by anxiety
tindered, pitched, and kindled
abominable irritable bowel syndrome
prescription medication tempered
badgering, crippling, and debilitating

panic attacks plagued this primate
manifesting feeble endeavor
to experience poignant satiation,
asper simple pleasures nonexotic
endeavors merely passively living
as one organic carbon based

human being finding fulfillment
meditating, reading, and writing,
now fleeced, deprived, and blitzed
suspicious disagreeable provender
perhaps lactose intolerance

after enjoying pizza birthday
fours days prior
celebrating chronological centenary,
sans one frail resident here,
Highland Manor Apartments
suddenly, I feel chill o' rigor mortis!

Premium Member Twelth Knight

FOREWORD: I have no idea if this actually works... I’ll let you decide

TWELTH KNIGHT

If you truly love me you shall do as I ask
To demonstrate your ardour, I set for you this task
I shall not make it easy to prove your love to me
So this, Sir, is my challenge, go do it gallantly

Fetch for me a ton or two of what I like for tea
Nine trucks full of dripping will serve me perfectly
And payback for those people who used to pick on me
A dozen blokes to thrash them is satisfactory

You know those metal baths, that folk would once scrub up in
Fetch for me five small ones to do my washing up in
And when the washing up is done who’s gonna wipe the plates
It might seem rather silly but for that... eleven snakes

Vegetables should not be damp so here’s what my next wish is
Bring for me exactly four Perforated dishes
Some shaven men to trim my lawn, be sure that seven come
And two mittens the colour of the deepest darkest plum

An ancient drink called koumiss, that comes from way back when
Had honey and some milk in, so bring me eight of them
A few young men to fix my socks, better make it ten
And then bring me from Normandy three fellows, all called Den

Find some men to exercise my reindeer with their sleigh
If you accept my challenge, bring six of them my way
And finally a big old fridge you’ll have to find for me
But only if the offer is buy one and get two free.



Well It took less than a fortnight to get the challenge done
Just twelve days to finish off the task he had begun
And while he wouldn’t often read his lovers diary
She had left it open, so he’d see what he would see

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me...

Twelve drubbers drubbing
Eleven vipers wiping
Ten laddies darning
Nine loads of dripping
Eight meads with milk in
Seven shorn and strimming
Six geysers sleighing
Five old tin sinks
Four colanders
Three french Dens
Two purple gloves
And a large fridge and a pair free


My Love, Josefin Slab

My love, Josefin Slab
My first thought the time I wake up
My inspiration in moments I create art
My joy when we chat and laugh together
My strength when I'm on job
The last person I contact before my sleep
The only girl in my mind
The beautiful creature I found
With your sweetest voice and charming smile
With your amazing chatting emoji and laughs
And that walking-dancing baby emoticon
With your crazy mind I love
One with wonderful picture posing
With your brilliant yogurt skin color
With your perfect dressing fashion
With your fantastic ideas and advice on me
From your inner attracting power
A person I can submit my soul to
A person I commit to end in love with
I'm too favored to meet and know you
It isn't enough saying I'm crazy about you
You made me love
You're my weakness.

You make mincemeat of attention on calling my name
It's splendidly something we're grabbing ourselves at
My sleight of hand is premiered by your discernment
But understate yourself in giving someone a drubbing
And provide no rooms for amendments on your skids
Which depreciate the possessions in your proficiency
To affect wiping the floor with joyous love of ours
Really that it needs our synergistic ink to put on paper
I wish to destruct that part of you, likewise you'd
Unto me to paint the tints, shades and tones of loveliness
To sketch the signs of courage and put tolerance details
Keeping warm hues and cold saturations on our tongues
Kindly I request to open your mind and meet with mine
That we can share such fruitiness as matching goals
Safely and sufficient enough getting to our destined cliff
Though you impairs the ontology behind, I quite wonder!

I'm no more down at heel as you slowly met
And no longer experience little love laughs
Which solemnly stole my entire belief on
To smell the sense of dirt on our papers
By free graphite shine no other can see
In that a wild manner stirring sincerity up
My keen to rub the dots of one another
An eraser whose outcome is dusty
The pixels I granted to suit the resolution
The saturation of my tolerance being warm
With all recipes from your soul make up
Frozen springs partly exploiting our intent
A little I'd hatch is a one you crossed
A garment you wore set your eyes into no blink
That my feet found no sand to stand on
But only sweet regrets and sad charms to fall in.

Premium Member Mind Games

After inserting the narcissistic probe,
All he could say was,
Meet me in St. Louie, Louie.
There was never a dull moment
Listening to the guy rattling on.
Amazing-- how one person could be
The center of the universe,
Podcast and all.
Consternation? Exactly.
I was out of patience--
Time for a drubbing.
Take no offense, I said,
But if you do,
Return it in the morning.
Turning to more mundane courses,
Like breakfast
I tried to put the wretch 
Out of my head.
But sometimes you just have to live
With what is broken.
In the end, never self-identify
As a narcissistic vagabond,
Because profanity is the habitation
Of small minds.
© Bill Yates  Create an image from this poem.

Just Shy O the Concupiscent Cusp

As par and parcel of being
    alive wire impossible aye
to maintain totally tubularly
     literarily celibate by and bye
with parochial restraint antiseptic dry
as dust poetic refrains
     asper this healthy older guy
devoid of physical whim zee

     unlike a inscrutable eunuch...so hi
there dear reader experienced
     by this self contrived Zen
minded nonestablishmentarian outlier,
     whose nonconformist yen
tries to steer clear of controversy,
     heresy, prurient wen
unless one happened

     to be eunuchized,
     i.e. sexless as a cold oven,
but similar to generic men
     this writerly hen  
pecked husband dully 
     drumming, droning, and 
     dribbling as a lix spittle
     aged chap housed within

     Schwenksville, Pennsylvania bailiwick
though far less inclined
     to whet ma lil atrophied dipstick
than some young buck
     at the peak of his sexual prowess
every now and again viz,

     aye feel a much slighter sensation
drubbing, crackling, and
     buckling mine body electric
and attempt to record
     re: font ten blue type
     boldface and/or Italic
such infrequently occurring
     fleeting Johnson magic

speculating why the
     hoo ha regarding mystic
spell binding codas,
     dogmas, and enigmas,

     an integral component naturalistic
within the calculus of life,
     when human species
     (parenthetically), naturally, inherently,
     and biologically opportunistic
akin to other organisms whose quixotic
antics allow NON GMO,
 
     MSG, and gluten free,
     and uncensored discussion
asper reproductive habits rhapsodic
with floral and/or faunal symphonic

emanations donning each their own
     "NON FAKE" trumpeting
spectacular humbly modest
     rubric, yet...universalistic
as being linkedin
     within the cosmic whirled wide web.

Trinity

#It is true that life will go on
If anyone of the three die today
Either of us or the feeling we share
These are three yet one 
For if one dies the others die too 
None ever was nor can be without the other two
Life will go on after, yes it will
But will empty shells not resonate of the breeze that once filled them
Not ever?
Will my heart not burst the minute I think of you 
And the thought that will you not hear it 
Will my heart not be torn apart by the love that held it captive,
A million times a day
Will I not live and die looking at everything that we saw together 
Live and die, yes, and then live to die again
Will the daily drubbing in my veins not speak of thy lovely name
Will it not
Will it not...#

Ah Satisfactorily Succumbing Into Salubrious Sleep

Ah...Satisfactorily Succumbing Into Salubrious Sleep

Aye sandman, I surrender to yar supreme governance
surreal spectacular soiree gifts subconscious sphere
soothing (analogous to natural palliative), ah...REM
member nought, asper exquisite entertaining cerebral
kaleidoscope replete with nonpareil visual trappings

aesthetically tantalizing unforgettable..., but lo' eye cant
captcha scenario upon awakened state, tis bothersome
transcendent, resplendent, quiescent,...transient dream
ticking escapement shuttered against recollections...
aye plead mercy to jog, (and gently jimmy - yeah of

course figuratively) shuttered facet slammed tight soon
nee immediately inaccessible dimension brought forth
teasingly, phantasmagorically, numbingly ephemeral,
nonetheless temporarily liberating, enshrouding, and
cocooning against incessant drubbing mine corporeal

wakeful body electric relentlessly fraught with profuse
inexplicable perspiration (principally palms) recurs
like clockwork (despite prescription medications), this
physiological discomfort hazards livingsocial quotidian
joyless agonizing oft times including courtesy, not

"FAKE" panic attack, these anxiety less debilitating,
when emotionally torturous teenage years wracked
every cell (no matter how fast I ran - just Kuwait, the
mailer daemons threatened) to undermine even flickr
of happiness, hence suicidal ideations (eternal slumber)

tantalized (still populate though processes) as surefire
solution to mitigate despite leaving those who love,
and especially hate yours truly, his existence bereft
of quality, though tranquil physical quasi rural setting
(Schwenksville), a naturalistic, fantastic, holistic balm,

here quiet as a cemetary removed, not considerably
distant from Philadelphia (hubbub disagrees with hair
trigger vulnerability), where madding crowd affects my
innate neurological predisposition, these lovely bones

easily rattled, quite aggravating to live verging upon
tremulous agitation assuaged through writing - catharsis
delivers temporary alleviation as doth solitary voluntary
sequestration poor substitute to relish L'Chaim!

I Am Dying

In loving memory of Queen Queen - Nyasuba.
 "I am DYING"
 by Juno Byron.
My heart is losing breath
To the hourly pummelling and drubbing
With a heavy metal rod of death
No mercy forgiveness am Dying

Is it because I'm a lady?
Is it because I'm to be voiceless?
'y kill me before our baby?
Please listen to the voices

End semester is here
Boohoo! I can't sit to revise
'cos dear I fear this is my year
To capsize the prize of my cries

Open your eyes mister killer
Allow me die peacefully
With no wounds like a caterpillar
Now that you can't forgive easily

My love has betrayed me
Denied me to quit
With you I thought I was free
But you were misfit

My sisters
love is a big liar and deaf and blind
Big blisters
Quit! Before you're confined
© Juno Byron  Create an image from this poem.

My Love

.......MY LOVE.........
The way my heart is drubbing for you
I am not understanding anguish of love.
I tried to set my eyes on the sky.
But it was all written of your name.
My heart is spinning with you.

The world is crass without you.
I can not stay here without you.
You're the paste of my heart.
I can not understand this feelings anymore.
Your love is driving me crazy to commit crime.
I am a detainee in your world.

Is this what they really termed as real love?
I can no longer live this life without you.
The life without you is so dreary.
You're the only bee that eat me out.
Now, i am feeling it like petals of flower.
I repeat after you, you are my LOVE.

Upon Our Yours Truly and His Missus Exchanging Holy Matrimony Vows

Upon our (yours truly and his missus) exchanging holy matrimony vows

Ultrasound allowed, enabled
and provided obstetrician to zoom,
image courtesy sonogram
showing fledgling fetus,
thus we pledged our troth after spouses' womb
(approximately halfway
between her pregnancy) did balloon
uterus, wherein conception
delineated birth of eldest daughter, and many a tomb
morrow later she resides in Oakland, California.

I attempt reasonable rhyme about...
oh happy yesteryear
when newly minted groom (me) wed bride
family in attendance cried
as Justice of Peace officiated as legal guide
extolling pregnancy of she who could not hide
figurative bun in the oven which matured inside
after two gametes fused and multiplied
countless times quickly birthing embryo
baby on the way nullified
application of premarital sex
and attendant use of contraceptives.

Clear out of the blue
thee wife asked me
opinion if wedded bliss between us
ha, how heretical to think otherwise
since romance long since flew
out the figurative window
impossible mission to feign significant other
analogous to brand new
alluring, beguiling, captivating... tchotchke.

All kibitizing aside, a requited love with zeal
I attest invisible spokes support unseen wheel
when turning sparking genuine care and concern
act as buffer against emotional hemorrhage
and received good housekeeping approval seal
more applicable to most recent
elapsed wedding day anniversaries
ex post facto after both daughters flew the coop
finding me reeling with empty nest syndrome,
whenever yours truly reviews mental newsreel,
now absence of offspring, akin
to psychological wound I did heal
no longer mourning natural course
of begetting progeny more readily
accepting their necessary autonomy doth appeal.

Though marriage devoid of physical intimacy wife
get along swimmingly, we exhibit less strife
than days of yore effulgence promulgated
to all readers unbeknownst to human life
form characterized by bloke,
whose words appeared across screen
exemplifying, embodying, and edifying
regarding beloved simian counterpart
bandying playfully sometimes
drubbing and drumming my body
while she (commandeering 
certain orifices of her body) emulates sounds of fife.

Daiya Vegan Non Dairy Cheesecake Oh Yum

Daiya vegan non dairy cheesecake - oh yum!

Hard knocks Methacton school alum
ofttimes finds ruing his fate
while squarely planted on me bum
disheveled and unshaven,
whereby gray stubble encrusted
with wayward synonymous days old crumb -

after wolfing delectable entitled treat
buttered fingers drubbing upon tabletop
analogous to playing a drum
oy vey, yours truly cannot believe
he ate the whole thing -
argh... my poor tum.

ALDI GIANT supermarkets
(within small radius of miles
from me Schwenksville, Penna abode)
sell delicious delectable treat
goading, inspiring, and spurring me
to craft poem essentially
patronizing manufacturer,
whose skilled food technicians
engineered absolute winning dessert

courtesy their natural born talent
schooled (most likely at culinary institute)
possibly supplemented insync
with advanced degrees
at other institutions of higher learning
after various and sundry
trials and error
concocting mouthwatering secret recipe.

Lemme use hypothetical situation
to accent chew ate,
how alluded dessert tastes great,
especially when rumble in tumbly
clamors for glorious goody
regarding appetite to satiate
unfortunately circumstances
force your truly to wait.

If (the following
constitutes far fetched scenario)
stranded on a desert island,
I after falling to Earth
when parachute fails to open,
weighed down by an excess of
Daiya vegan non dairy cheesecakes,
would finagle an empty pie tin
to signal an SOS.

If left to my own devices,
(where you dear reader
would discover one humbug),
I would be forced to scrounge around
rubbing two sticks together
to create warmth
plus distilling oils - 
derived from edible herbaceous plants,
whence I would ejaculate 
(not prematurely) - olé
to sauté said greens with wild mushrooms.

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