Best Dullard Poems
A stone's cast ----
but what great arm has set about the motion?
was not the first mother reared? ----
her children on the smiles of angels?
her womb filled with devotional design;
to flourish to some end with hope in God's motivation?
..... back to the (garden), with this posy and its ink near end,
and its quill dipped still in mystique;
yet I did not come (here) by chance,
nor was my mother born from some heathen improbability,
there can come no answers in doubt;
for fear of the wolves the woods are too shadowed
and loiter most grimly,
always death on the wind....
I shall not doubt the design in the weave the Great Artist
hath woven, and what magic touch with the world's eye in mind;
only the dullard doubts the infinite graces in the reflecting pool,
and the skeptic accursed without revelation -----
his own child but water, flesh and bone
and the cold earth but waits for him,
in the bellies of fattened worms;
when death's breath whispers and curls and furls
as serpent wisp-mists, coiling to mortal truth ----
he shall cling to God and eternity!
Have I died a thousand deaths?
walked the cool of earth ere?
tasted of the sweet nectar of love,
and the bounties beyond death?
That we will to live, and climb to some end,
the jagged-precipice, and toil to experience
and seek the Final Mighty Mount ----
is our great testimony to eternity;
To leave our fingerprint upon the world,
and slip into paradise as a welcomed wind 'neath its door.....
The Fifties were really and truly not all that square
Though that dullard Dwight D. sat in the Executive Chair
And his frumpy wife Mamie had really bad hair
Matching those dowdy, plain dresses she'd wear ...
While husbands toiled in obscurity for large corporations
The "Ugly Americans," reviled by most other nations
Their stay-at-home wives feeling mostly frustration
Downing "happing pills" daily instead of real medication
Their sons sporting letter sweaters, obedient jocks,
Their daughters in plaid skirts and white bobby socks
Penny loafers and saddle shoes were in for ten years
Along with white levis and coca-cola -- never rum, never beer
Yet how about Krushchev's dust-ups with Tricky Dick Nixon
What about Sputnik 1 and the panic it put us in
And remember George Wallace and old Lester Maddux
Hosing down *******, echoes of Crispus Attucks ...
The rise of brutal pro football threatened apple pie and baseball
Heralding the next decade's premiere spectator sport, i.e., 'spaceball'
Joe McCarthy dug up the dirt of a "red scare's" nitty gritty
In the work of the House un-American Activities Committee
Then there was Rosa Parks refusing to sit in the back of the bus
Championing the yearning for justice in so many of us
And the music, the music, so outrageously wild
Chuck Berry, Richie Valens, the Big Bopper -- that overgrown child
Yes, the Fifties were really and truly not all that square
Though we shan't heed the call of those who'd return us to there
O, boorish me… O, dullard me
She did not marry me for my personality
My bon vivants surely did not pay the rent
I was much less Superman than I was Clark Kent
A stylish dancer I was not
My feet got tied-up in a sailor’s knot
As for culture, I had none … gol-darn
My favorite painting was “The Cow by the Barn”
Despite it all, she proposed to me
~ The night I won the lottery
AI is worthy - but is it a pity?
Nothing's been done on synthetic stupidity
Smart may be good, but dumb gullibility
Will grow without limit and tend to infinity
Clever and cunning is not very hard
But it takes a brainbox to program a dullard
So why not SS instead of AI?
Well witless behaviour's in no short supply
When I was a toddler Father was brilliant
Taught me many things and with the wonder
But as I got older and the passing
Father grew slower until fifteen when..........
He eventually became a dullard
Told me my friends would bring me down
Punished me and locked my mind away
But no locks could hold me and my genius
The years passed until I reached twenty one
I realized that he must have studied while I was sleeping
I received the key when I was twenty five
And looked at those blue eyes which held me
They studied everything I did and loving
Longing to be free I watched the first steps
Brilliance
Studying into the night and prayer
Letting go and giving him my key
I was born for this with my love
Tried with his little hands to turn the lock but the key
Frustrated
I filed till his key fit snug
My prayer was blessed and I thanked
Father
There’s a monkey tag-team of mo-rons
running things ~ Polly Would Pinocchio style
Dumb and Dumber dolts
got dim a dullard king Dumbo
dunce chair directing
Elephant Man, with the carrot top sage
He’s a veggie dense thinker,
whose airhead leading the buffoon brigade
And it’s a head scratcher
as to why dim low IQ, cowardly lions
are lemming following the fiefdom folly
It’s so chicken-hearted laughable ...
henpecks lip farting,
putting on a helium gas of a show
Cue the fake laughter soundtrack:
It’s American Idle time!
Snooze prime to hear the rally monkey
carnival noise once more
You can bet your two Pence,
this clueless circus is gonna campaign roll
back into Mo’ scowl town
P.T. “Blarney Ruble” Barnum
and his chimpanzee crew of incompetent clowns
are again orangutan offering
their court jester brand of witless protection
Midas minus the safety!
Only “no-money-back” global security guarantee
Dim Supremely silly Windy Poot tiggers ...
so growl inept at stashing hidden tax figures,
are stumbling out of the Keystone Cop clown car
at an imbecilic, cage open pace —
Arrested development cut-rate
Dim piglet pasties with the parrot face, and the carat taste,
are warble wobbling about in bungling, Bozo haste
Following the folly of the stupid arms race
Pinhead ponies love the idiotic art of the coin chase
As the ringleader Mo-Ron McDonald the Clown
tells his simpleton clucks, at the Ivory barn Animal House Farm,
there’s no nuke need to be smartly alarmed
I dream of magic lines but they elude me.
Chapbook on acrylic tube palette, janus-faced cave in
at the crack of dawn,
crescent moonlight awnings turn to circus of the soul,
images that colour dullard pages leave furrow on my
hayrick haggard brow.
Backwater sonnet form leaning towards some meadow compost rot.
Ghost written silhouettes, shatter fragile eggs on
loop pile Berber carpets,
yolk stain and pale brown chicken hash tags.
Tight rope knot escarpment found in tripod camera verse,
cliff edge heart-stop paen is just another
blue-sky canon over billed by birds of prey.
Poetic licence pointer to a learner permit doggerel,
aspiring metre patchwork but a tapered column
lost in grey day whimper.
Guangdong province text in lychee pink for window glaze.
Fleeting notions dangle at the sparrow hawk crossroads,
while grazing skinny red ballon formations overhead.
Mother of invention please shine your convex beam
upon this wellspring drought abandonment I swim in.
Sudden brain cell drafts a Jack-o’-lantern of disjointed phases,
stretcher bear the legless phrases that leave me
wheelchaired and infirmed in woolly states.
Timeline mainstream woofer whose lagging jacket hemline falls apart,
areole reduced branch slowly bleeds its cactus juice of inspiration.
A rush, a fever, quotidian fever,
no greater longing can us writers have.
Come unto her not with pious words from a pulpit’s herd of unsure-footed sheep. Rather, come unto her with deeds that her lamb needs, your bloody knee spurs speak to hers.
Come unto her not with raw, self-inflicted wounds that you claim, in bitter blame, are the fault of another. Rather, come unto her healed from your past tangled trauma.
Come unto her when your bleeding has stopped…not dripping a drop. She will only suture her own; done nurturing the needy.
Come unto her not with an ego of eggshells, nor a simmering swankpot’s cherry-flavored charm. Rather, come unto her with the simple pride of a stable hand whose steed is always a ribbon winner.
Come unto her not as a sinner in fancy finery, bearing bestowals from far shores roamed. Rather, come unto her with threads of a thrasher boy who has traveled from home to crop, and chanced to stop to pick her a pretty pansy.
Come unto her not like a dreary dullard, nor burdened by the pseudoscience of stately scholars. Rather, come unto her with savoir faire; humble hat-tipping to those of both high flair and famine.
Come unto her not with sunny, invasive color of a dandelion’s deception; a weed that poses as a posy. Rather, come unto her with word spoken truths as ferocious as a lion’s tooth.
Come unto her not like a weak-kneed weed that sways and spreads seeds like dried nettle. Rather, come unto her with admired mettle; the fortitude of an oak whose rings can no longer be counted.
Come unto her stronger than the man that you think you could be. She will soon see that you are much more than your best possibility.
Apples in orchards
Apples in orchards crashing like snowflakes to the ground,
They fall into the baskets to be eaten now.
They have ripened and at last we can taste their juices;
This fruit of the loom brings pleasure to our mouths.
Vineyards drunk dry by drunken Mediterranean’s,
Create a wine so divine, you would swear it was a God send.
There is no end of pleasure to be found in this land of ours;
Sip the wine and spit it out and then while away the hours.
Summer shines upon us, as we are drunk in love;
We have tasted her, we are with her and she is the one.
The one who brings us happiness when all else is dark.
She brings us the warmth we crave; she is euphoria for the heart.
Dance for your lover and take off your clothes
And you will see the smile on their face.
Love each other truly and who knows,
You could grow apples in your orchard and savour the taste.
Love is your apple and your life is your orchard;
It takes two to grow an apple, so come on now don’t be a dullard.
Smother them in love and your orchard will grow
And at last you will have a place you can feel at home.
(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Dullard President
Pres. George W. Bush
Served in the National Guard on his tush.
Chosen Presidential puppet by Chaney
Because he was not so brainy.
I know anytime you see my scolding message or a raving and ranting message, you used to mutter that this person is so jealous in love.
But anything I did and I'll do is not out of love, because you don't know what love means.
You thought love is just to pronounce on mouth and keep it near heart not inside heart.
You as a girl of school loving member, you won't understand it till it comes to a level in which everyday your eyes will be dripping with wells of tears.
Fatimah I showed you a love and trust which no any girl in this world I ever told, and the love which normally matters and can be seen formally in this world but you just made all the things non-prevailing ones. I don't know are you going to comprehend it, is it that you'll get it from that dullard kid or when you get another scumbag baga.
A starlingly, stunning woman, she!
Who, like a slinky cat, came silently
into a smoky room.
The wide-men took notice and loudly
gasped....."vava-xoom"!
I honestly don't know, what was so
special about her.
But those big floppy hats, shades and
thighs caused set mens' hearts aflutter!
I was ravenouslly jealous of her in my dull,
righteous gear.
What and why were men were forever
whispering things in her ear?
We women became utterly invisible to
our mates.
Who succumbed to her large,gold, gypsy
exotic, earrings-fate.
She was our nemesis, and created quite a
magic spell.
We murmured like jealous hens,that this
woman burn in h_ll!
CHerie Flambe married an airline pilot, has three
homes and how happy, she!
We dullard, righteous women,so happy
for Cherie Flambé.
As we were rid of her, eternally free!
Edited title originally said Kitty Jolie.
August 22, 2020
11 am PST
Book
Book, a limitless source of knowledge
A companion to its lover
Through it we become intelligent
From it we acquire ageless wisdom
It can turn a know-nothing into a genius
It's turned a dullard into a great surgeon
Book make us explore our world
At the comfort of our home
It boosts self-awareness
It emancipates
It gives power to an individual
And greatness to a nation
Book accelerates development
And fast-track civilisation
It unravels mysteries
And debunks superstitions
Through it we become aware
Of our own history
Book enculturates
Book motivates
It makes us see farther
Than we can ever imagine
From it we gain years of experience
Within a short time frame
Book opens our eyes
To what others cannot see
It accompanies us in the journey
To the land of self-discovery
Book is an antidote for ignorance
And a cure for barbarism
A body enmeshed
in the dullard traffic
Intravenous circuits, downhill highways
By my side, snaking waterways
Ruthless traffic now bashes
No faces, no lyrical intimate
Blast out like canopener
This soul-flying i have dreamed
Skyscraping every distance
The wheels of time shift
I ching scheduled polarities
Thoughts scatter and drift
This dream of civilization
Robbing a beating heart in razor passage
Vocal cords abound through humid air
As eyeballs roam for goods and services
I catapult like severed horsemen
Urging freedom to refract from windshields
A Lad from Chile
There was a lad, who came from Chile He was a nitwit, a dullard and silly, Thinking he was a good rider, Climbed the back of a tiger, But soon he was riding in his belly.