Best Dumbed Poems
Scarlett thought she was promised permanent security.
Satchels of resilience bound her fragile wrists.
Woodland deities hailed her.
Underworld demons feared her.
The curious townsfolk simply stood in contemplation -
Inviting epee's gleamed in their eyes
as the garden shears, in their hands, smiled.
Scarlett oft pretended she was Joan of Arc.
Threads of meshed titanium webbed her sheltered heart.
Sour Grimm moppets heralded her.
Skeptical fairy godmothers chastised her.
The relentless wheel of innocence spun without interruption.
Persnickety rogues sashayed in dumbed silence -
permitting their sordid counterparts unwelcomed invitations
into a void where reverend satchels are tragically punctured.
Scarlett donned spiked eye patches in her latter years.
Protective velour swatches masking mass and the masses.
Myths and urban legends empathized with her.
Gods and martyrs appropriately buried her.
The dumbfounded spirits circle Scarlett's broken window with raised eyebrows.
Quizzically staring at rotting barrels littered with skeins if shredded satchels -
yards if tainted fibers being hopelessly spun into yet another
dark, forgotten midnight.
I couldn’t help myself, peeking through the trees
at the white, glowing moon. It seemed so close,
so far away, meant for a gothic grace - the swish
of an antique gown, nearly floating in the midst.
Two trees held the moon between them; squeezed it
exquisitely, beautifully, tenderly. I’m caught in the light
of the luminous lanterns seeking respite, surrendered
to waning twilight. A twinkle in my steadfast soul.
Must I lose; I might linger, with my iPhone to control
the soulful image - what I will make of it. My backyard,
the trees thrill me, move me into the presence of God.
A scintillation of Eden, dumbed-down for dust-to-dust.
What spectacle of glory will we one day see; our lens
in eternity? Will we soak up color choices that stretch
forth one after the other? We can only imagine;
we can’t even imagine! I turn the moon off; step inside.
Art Gallery. Museum. Parks. Zoo.
Cultural Events.
Glazed like raku pottery
In charcoal rainbows warbled all dark
On pidgeon necks
Like hell’s angels, dumbed,
Blowing smoke through your mind
In a haze of dreams
The city is made of a giant fractal wart
On a witch’s cheeks there’s blush.
Movies. Games. Bars. Clubs.
Cultural Events.
Maybe she’s singing a hymn
With forked tongue
The green fires burning gold and money
Into the skies pitch red
Flirting and skirting sale-priced
Fashion iconography. Architecture
Sophisticating the simple desires.
You’re lost.
Foreclosure. Lawsuit. Divorce.
Cultural Events.
Emblazoned with some valor
Flags of the dead days
Killed like a haiku short-lived
Plopped one by one
Your teeth fell.
Bankruptcy. Fired. Laid off.
Cultural Events.
Brightly darkly the shiny sheens
Of sweat they bubbled in blood red and iron
In that champagne of success
Guilt. Acne. Alcohol. Headache.
Cultural Events.
The feather dust flies and the smell of tar
Rubber in your face
We have drug solutions for your
Unhappiness.
Cancer. HIV. Vaccines. Death.
Cultural Events.
Beer gardens, beer babies, beer bellies,
Beds, homes, and wined babes
Pretty victims and voices they make
Cultural Events.
The city life careened my poetry
Towards those
Crazy wronged right fools
Still swimming the street in search
Furtive, arms afire just fighting
Firing, fleeing into those chains.
Claims. Refrains. Drowned Voices.
Cultural Events.
Down on my knees I get down to pray
My heart is full of pain
For this nation where I live
Is no longer now the same.
Babies are being murdered
Before they are even born
This evil in this nation
Has now become the norm.
Churches no longer fear the Lord
The truth they do not tell
Preachers spewing out their lies
Sending many souls to hell.
Christian prayer is removed from the schools
What future has our children today
Being dumbed down with common core
We must begin to pray.
Why is man in this nation
Removing our God given rights
Attacking all Christian principles
For these today we must fight.
Our freedoms we must never surrender
Even though we may be a few
With Jesus the God of this nation
There's nothing the devil can do.
The Reflection of light to..
A sanctimonious imposed Tyranny,
A stifling Medical spellbinding idiocracy,
Of a State Sanctioned Nihilism that couldn't stand the irony,
Sycophant Pagan philistines,
consume all that doesn't move,
Our Impetuous gullibility
now notwithstanding,
We cannot though argue,
nor in fact - disprove,
But however your view, with all of today's branding,
Perception means nothing if we cannot then see,
Whatever it is that they
Are not selling
Trading Eskimos for ice;
the cretinous oligarchy
..remains hidden not telling,
Worse perhaps still - to never suffice,
Yet robbed of innate and perceptive feeling,
Why should anything ever
then have
Any sort - of essential meaning..
If all we concede to, all that we are..but through different lenses,
And all that we do to follow;
Nulls and Diguises the natural senses, for mass promised false healing?
Though it is through the senses that we realise the self,
It is against spiritual wickedness that we now wrestle,
As disregarding this; Man as a dumbed down empty vessel,..
An Idiocy to Sanitise his Authenticity,
Only to always avoid, becoming intellectually honest in wealth,
Any mistaken identity of that which is you..
Return in full circle in assuredness and to knowing, but not so, to being aloof,
Prepared with no more waiting
An abrupt end to dismissal,
More to the point 'tis
a self evident proof,
If I did not tell you, I would not be honest
Our practice makes sense for perfecting the truth..
In your Eyes, If it was not
a whisper, of a lost
Tangible promise..
Kurt Hubbard-Beale
23rd Feb 2022
During covid 19 lockdowns
The PoetTree
Awaken Poetry. Awareness Poetry. Geopolitical. Philosophical. Music. Shared
"Laid Upon Their Alters"
qhapaq hucha
it begins at birth
the most precious
resource of all
we are registered,
audited, one by one
under the rod measured
by lizard rule
the capacocha
children of complacency
dumbed down, some
thorns, uppity, removed
heads counted
to be held high
as trophies, those played
and won
for the greater good
oh yes,
we belong;
we belong,
we’ve always belonged,
to the ruling class
sapa inca
orders sacrifice, daily
all are held up to the Sun
of the others’ huacas,
accountable,
we are ears of corn
sheared and scattered
kurnels sown to replenish
a new world
fresh crops
laid upon
their oily alters
falls the empires
one by one
like conquistadors
they dissolve us
holy sees parted
red and bleeding
we are all children
well drugged
foreplay for prophecies
all war rooms
cleanly wiped
disinfected, by fire
baptised deja vu
submerged
together
we are something else
to behold
realm of the four parts
these final moments
matter
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
“With their royalty and focus of worship destroyed,
the general population readily accepted Spanish rule
as “what was done.” This created local assistance which,
along with outside factors, allowed the Spanish
to completely conquer the region by 1572,
marking the end of the Inca Empire.“
“This pattern of manipulating a people’s concept
of ideological power, in conjunction with
relational and material power,
is seen throughout history
and is often a large component
of the fall of great empires.”
"That’s why the banalities matter.
When the real issues come up, healthy states,
the ones capable of handling and minimizing
everyday dysfunction, have a great deal more capacity
to respond than those happily waltzing toward their end.
But by the time the obvious, glaring crisis arrives
and the true scale of the problem becomes clear, it’s far too late.
The disaster—a major crisis of political legitimacy, a pandemic,
a climate catastrophe—doesn’t so much break the system
as show just how broken the system already was."
Flushed,
kicked to the curb and stunned,
waanning, waanning and crumbling crumbs,
dispelled as dumbed,
come backs like lakes of water aren't even fun,
toned and intonated,
17 things to endanger-
39 to reconnoiter,
there was nothing to do,
nowhere to go,
some people showed,
they were enhanced,
I was so gold-
aggrandized yet grow'd,
I couldn't even agree with the folks,
got stunned and littered as the roads,
melted plaster and recreated the last masters focused.
Peaceful planet is no more
Chaos created by lovers of power, greed & war
Depopulation is the elitist's plan
Brutal monsters disguised as man
Society has been dumbed down
Through education , propaganda & TV
Law officers have lost their authority
As lunatics rule protected from persecution for deeds of insanity
Vicious convicts receive light sentences
While their victim's reputations are destroyed
Illegal immigrants are given jobs and housing
While our vets go homeless and unemployed
Whistle Blowers are targeted and the evil-doers murder some
Aided by their puppets for a large amount of mon'
Pedophiles rings are organized in all branches of society
Shielded by The One World Order with hearts full of vulgarity
Food, water & air are poisoned to decrease the populace
And you ask me why I'm angry
You tell me stop the fuss
Hell is on the fast track engaged in demonic activity
As those in power keep the sheep distracted from truth & reality
Prison Planet is not a myth
Not at all just in my head
And if we don't take a stand soon
To Fema Camps we will be led
Reflections by Joan May Donnelly Ellis AUG. 22 2014
Neon lights shape gargoyle faces
Are the streets (alive) or are they restless?
Unease and motive make their play,
Hidden minds promote!
Outlines are strange,
While blame is cultured, a virtue less pearl
The espoused truth of a dumbed down world.
A (consumer vision) still splutters to live;
It owes so much from a refusal to give,
So when daylight comes will it see a way
Past losses of freedom – trust – equality?
Or will it be dwarfed with the shadows of doubt,
And dammed in the spotlight with no way out?
© Joe Maverick 26-09-2010
The tortured poet has returned to cause chaos on the page
With a pen full of ink that is sharper than Michael Myers blade
This is about to get horrific and bloody it's not for the weak minded
I was forced to live with dark thoughts, but now I keep rhyming
I've learned to not listen to the opinions of the people who discredit the caterpillar, but praise the butterfly
I refuse to bring laughter to people who didn't want to know about what I suffered inside
As a teen I had dreams of a hug from my dad, or being another guy
So I sat alone in my room inside of the children's home
Feeling alone
Writing lyrics while listening to Eminem became my building zone
I don't know what they're authorising
but this authors writing
Slaughtering and torturing
Causing chaos to everything you're organising
Been through some times which were traumatising
I'm just trying to survive in this world I was born to die in
I got back up and cleaned my wings anytime I fell short with flying
I promise that I will have killed my demons and beat depression by the time the morgue is arriving
This isn't a game, there isn't a slot where you can make a quarter slide in
No buttons for you to push to stop this rhyming monster
Even Jason Voorhees finds him bonkers
I'll climb and conquer
With a heart of pain and mind of vodka
a pen full of ink that can't run out
My lyrics won't be dumbed down
Inspired by Rakim, Nas, Eminem and Big Pun
I'm now facing everything I once hid from
Speak your mind, because no one will respect the fence you sit on
The lost kid
Who became a Hip-Hop head
Starting to appreciate the fact I'm not dead
Time to start a new journey because some of my bridges have been burned
I've fell back in love with the pen, so you could say the tortured poet has returned
My Madness, Me...
Confined by this straight-jacket,
strapped in, numb and dumbed,
a washed-out, has-been, also-ran,
body, eyes, the equilibrium of mind,
rattling like stones in an old tin-can.
Still, I am,
I am,
and I am unchained,
my dreams taking flight, soaring,
above these claustrophobic walls,
of synapses, and dungeons of stone,
swooping through green valleys,
taking a detour to savour the joys,
soaked in torrential, evergreen memories,
of a younger man, with passion in his bone.
I am.
My wings unclipped, unshackled, free,
I am, and though I am unable to see,
I am.
At long last,
me...
Little hell earth is taking its toll,
we suffer in silence the hell that we hold,
till we escape in the blinding white light,
the death tunnel is bright,
where we Get a fresh start so im told ...don
I did 15 years in stupidity,
at 15 a kick in the head from a horse dumbed me down,
i surfaced at 30 and the fog lifted,
but stupidity returns some times...
Or flag has turned upside down
In distress our nation's found
A one world order at liberties loss
Forgotten the soldiers that paid our freedoms cost
Burning parchments from the past
That held the wisdom of our founding fathers path
In God we trust has been forgot
Something must change
This has to stop
Warriors treated as criminals, cons
And terrorist talked to like leaders, Gods
Our Presidents a cowardly man
Eloquently twisting what is truth and forcing his demands
Executive orders
With all disregard
Brutally welding power against
The constitution and people he swore to protect
Given chance after chance to prove
His good intent and heart
Your all soon to be imprisoned and disarmed
Brainwashed armies
Forced to follow
Obeying orders
To kill the innocents
And fellow Americans
Out of control our National debt
It's time to stand
For what is left
Propaganda all around
Purposely staged to cause chaos and confound
Leaving our people in fear and dumbed down
Slowly they sell America's shores
Someday the enemy will come to collect
At our children's doors
Pushing hatred
We must make hast
Not falling for a disillusioned war
Between each race
Listen friends
Look the liars in the face
They wait, like a thief in the night
To inflict marshal law
For control of our life
Destruction and injustice for all
With honor we must answer the call
Clip the beasts talons
Cripple the demon, relinquishing its claws
Hinder the heathens
That desires to watch
America's fall.
CLOSED EYES
For a false peace of mind, to what degree,
will closed eyes spare oneself to see?
A desperate man breaking in,
Doors are closed in his face,
Qualified but denied, for his ethnic race.
Silent cries of little victims secretly abused,
Ashamed for the ways they are quietly used.
The uninvolved in self-inhibited stalls,
Hearing a woman's beating behind the walls.
Victims of burn for desperation of heat,
just trying to warm their hands and feet.
A student being bullied, disgruntled employee,
an outcome much different if closed eyes would just see.
The warnings of an avoidable obvious fate,
are now losses because of an imploded hate.
A people dumbed by racism, and hatred within,
A political extermination of real women and men.
Pile it on without conscience, just live and let be.
For there’s none so blind, as closed that won’t see.
Can’t wake the sleeping giant, for her trans is too deep,
take away her innocent children during the hypnotic sleep.
Until blindsided by a missile marked with her name,
The power struggles that be, are to no one's gain.
We need God in America, may our prayers be heard,
May the Lord bring revival through His powerful Word.
Leave moral teachings for the parents and churches,
Basic education in schools,
Parents and teachers not working together, a failing brew.
You can’t teach morale when the parents are gone,
Working two jobs for a living, trying to have a home.
Misbehaving for attention is the child left alone,
Parents jailed, or just missing, it is the system gone wrong.
We were dying from the masking,
and walking six feet apart,
Vaccinated for a pandemic, that still had it’s mark.
Closed the churches, even forbidden, to gather in our homes,
Removed our praying, and our singing, made us cold to the bones.
When will we just realize, that it’s the Savior we need
The only realistic hope for the human seed.
Father open our eyes, let us not live and let be.
Help us be brave to change the things, closed eyes can’t see.
Why do you look so old? The child asks me.
Not my favorite child, and he is losing ground rapidly.
Why do you think? I reply. “I am old.”
How old are you?
I am a hundred and twelve.
That quiets the whippersnapper for a few seconds.
He is whining now, disbelieving me, calling me names.
The youth of today are not like us.
I want to scream “I am twelve inside, no older than nine some days.”
But my polka dotted hands and my wrinkling bulldog neck says more.
Not to mention the arthritis in both ankles which slow me down.
“Why are you so impertinent and fresh?” I want to say to the child.
But these words are well beyond his scope.
We have dumbed down society until I do not think
We can dumb it down any more,
So I hobble away, cherishing my superiority.