Best Dummy Poems
You all have the answers
No boundaries
No politicians
No money
No banks
No religion
No capitalism
No guns
Utopia
I have no answers
Without boundaries
Without leaders
Without money
Without bankers
Without god worship
Without commerce
Without weapons
Anarchy
Not a single soul would be saved
Not a death more, nor a death less
Let it be said once again
When good men stand silent
Evil fills the void
I have never managed to remove all the weeds
Yet my garden is full of blooming flowers
The universe remains a mystery
As I leave my house today with but one goal
A kind gesture to a total stranger
This was a poem I had with no title, or rather any title I came up I did not like. Then this title popped into my head, now of course this was inspired by a poet here, and the best way to guess who? Go to Google and type the following “Wise Dummy Poet“ and find out!
The picture, yes this is part of my garden!
Long long ago in the land of milk and honey
Lived this sweetie who had a big batch of money
Quite popular with the beaus
After her money I suppose
Told them, “eat my shorts!” this gal was no dummy
© Jack Ellison 2015
cuz...well...this cerebral cortex lacks
ability to comprehend anything
more complex than playing jacks
aware his severe cognitive ability hacks
away at such juvenile gibberish
and most likely exacts
a prediction my intelligence
on par with bracts
very much aware that
without recourse to contrivances
delineating the passage of time,
wherever said out
standing invisible essence
which moments lapse just now ago
Now!
no just a moment ago Yaw
that, this or another instant
did without so much as a wow
lapse, and lucky
21st *****Sapiens to vow
and lay claim thee or thou
aware the amorphous ether
one can reefer as a sow
or any other animate or
inanimate direct or indirect object re:
yule lie zing
any analogy, metaphor, simile,
et cetera a poor substitute to pre
sent every second, minute,
hour...that doth nee
dull our attention akin
to banshees, or comparison
to something else
totally tubularly off the wall lee
ving without a trace
only prompt a feeble yet apropos je
ne sais quois, yet even then any primate a he
than (if individual couched in this free
to believe in any religion country, and cre
may shun versus burial predicated
adherence to idea of a soul aie...aye
how write with frustration struggle to affix bye
and bye, some nebulous notion, that doth defy
tis a futile effort to codify, fortify,
identify abstract concepts, whose high
arc key eludes pinpointing a per jai
guru dev, place or thing (ha)...
Did I not fall in love?
with a man in his boldness,
Matured at acuteness.
Ohhh he felt like home.
For the three months we pushed,
but haven't actually set eyes on each other
but, it felt like we knew each other.
I remember the days when he gave excuses for my "coming over"
I ignored the red flags
His Excuses felt like reasons enough to contain me.
I'll tell you what...
I was blind
Blinded by love.
How I chose to trust his word over what made sense.
How I betrayed my thoughts to delusions.
Did he not disappoint me?
On my calm day
And I remember it was a Friday
During working hours, towards ending hours.
I'll tell you what...
I got a call from the Hunk
Shocked I was than I could say worried,
He never called in those hours.
So, I answered with concern
And My heart sank a little when I heard voice of a woman.
But I was keen to hear what she had to say,
In actual fact to understand "why I am talking to a woman with his phone"
Guess what?
It was a Chick of his
Claiming that I disturb her relationship with Him
Him-The man I thought I fell in love with.
I asked Only relevant questions than fighting over him
Never will I ever give a man that much of a pride.
I'd rather put him on a spot to decide,
but fighting over a man no, my pride DON'T allow me.
Now I asked her, "where is Clyde"
Did she not say they've exchanged phone?
Tell you what...
She said they work together.
Did I not feel like a dummy?
well, I laughed a little, it wasn't even funny
In question a tear dropped, I remember
In the same instant my jaw dropped
For everything started making sense.
However, left Wondering
if he cheated with me or He cheated on me with her.
I still have no answer.
But I'll tell you what...
My heart dropped with every part of my being.
This fleeting love was so
Mustang GTO
One zero zero mpg galloping flow
Past percentages said: don’t make the wrong turn
Cool convertible joyride took a cardiac slow burn,
lip swerve around the infidelity curve
Rubber denials hit the road,
asphalt inquiries touched a raw nerve
Infatuated wheels spinning out of control ...
me thought the fantasy was real,
but the ecstasy was showroom fool’s gold
It’s a hairy situation,
my Afro instincts can feel a crash coming
Moving like an Energizer bunny,
I’m starting to feel
like a test car strapped-in dummy
Mustang love custom GTO
Binary triple digits zooming nitro —
Deceleration shift was a clutch much too slow,
had the top down
when my left will took an aorta puncture blow
I can hear the crash coming:
Icy surface eye contact
initiate the pain buffer airbag
Crushed lung gasp,
muffled passenger fear
How long did the unconsciousness last,
what happened to the frightened deer?
Pleasure vulnerable pulmonary lapse,
ventriloquist sound gave me backseat fear
Accidental pain motor reflex synapse ...
my unbuckled conscience got thrown clear
News flash: Another fresh love roadkill
Couldn’t avoid the crash,
even with no strings attached
Hopeful breathing went diaphragm still
for the wouldn’t dummy behind the will
The clouds are ventriloquists
and I am their dummy.
I fall with the rain,
fly with the wind,
and slump over on heavy summer days.
My wooden head so perfect
that I've perfectly misunderstood
my own place.
I close the doors,
draw the blinds,
and stare into the mirrors.
I speak unto my painted eyes
and wait for a response.
A fabulous career in acting and stand-up comedy
all started in nineteen twenty-six in New York City.
At an early age, you appeared on stage for many to see.
For a couple of years, you left your routine of comedy,
serving your country in World War II in the US Navy.
Your returned from the war, and earned a prestigious degree
at the Academy of Dramatic Arts in New York City.
Your classmates were Jason Robards, Anne Bancroft, and Grace Kelly.
In films “Run Silent, Run Deep” and “The Rat Race”, you would be.
However, your forte was on stage with stand-up comedy.
You said, “Come in Frank! Make yourself at home and hit somebody”
to Sinatra, and “Hello Dummy” to Johnny Carson,
as well as other big stars that included Dean Martin.
You are hilarious as an insulting curmudgeon.
However, everyone knows it’s part of the act for fun.
Your success continued on some shows on television.
You appeared on stage in Las Vegas at the Sahara
as well as other hotels such as the Riviera.
Your act goes to Reno, Lake Tahoe, and Atlantic City.
People flock to the showrooms to see your great comedy.
You have had quite a career, and your fans are a big plenty.
You are still going strong today past the age of eighty.
Thanks to wikipedia.org online encyclopedia and the website of Don Rickles www.thehockeypuck.com.
Casinos are the land of milk and honey.
This absolute fool thinks he has found a knack.
The dummy bets all of his hard-earned money.
He says he cannot lose when he plays blackjack.
There is a bad truth that he will realize.
Sooner or later he is in for a surprise.
He will come home with pockets that are empty.
Just another loser is what he will be.
Forecast aplenties with no degradations announced vertically, religiously or otherwise could have englanced my intuities to a mind over marketed by nomin al periods of intellectual cell growth, idea by idea. Brain overextended as to their poor prowess of non testicle religious sperm overture, unless un-diagnosed as to a pre disposed sexual prominant/pretense in and Behind the in scenes; as long as we don't get **** caught in the inbetweens of church and state, they said. I speak of Jack, my cousin, ever faithful Catholic boy/teen in Panama that sequestered himself in a tristful/trustful forced sex/ex ship behind the alter to reach a cathoflect pornpotential. It killed him in the end ever social sense of him being the closet in the stoic 60"s, no way out if not a pussy hound. I hate the dimensions that prolonged his misery, agony, secretivity in cruising for the other side of the present culture and final sex alcohol ***** death, despite his social yields. Ignorance, religious presecution, stupidity and all of the ever present yesterday/today standards that unequipp the where-with -alls of our mean right crusaders. God is good, as long as he believes in traditional marriage?One man, many women? The Bible begets you plenty as long as u were on the right page. Altho, I am a known given hetero, I am left alone despite my following/lawful/loving ways. Woman/Women? No need for them/their anything, anytime, anyhow manipulative, managing, meandering misgivings. Better off 13 years sex dead and gone prowess as 34 years taught me, stupid is as stupid does. Leave others as they seek/stain their human fortunes; the self is the course of all real isms we need to discover interno and to reinvent coexistinvest to my/mine self be half true?. Take time to think, tune in/turn on to yrself and device out, enliven you and all those close to u. Disregard all technology as a foe to personal growth, ongoing news personal intelligence. It won't be there for u. But can u draw from your own soul brain within a practiced junk juncture and fill the generation gap if all goes to Hell? Fix the Problem, not the Blame, mindhole.
S creaming infant.
P iercing cry.
I nsistant, persistent.
T ry the soother.
T ie the ligature.
H old the syringe.
E nd the craving.
D on't you see?
U terine hits are
M issed by baby
M anaging cold turkey?
Y our little junkie.
09/04/16
Number 3 Silent 1
I have no idea how on earth i got here
I am a prisoner in a phantom prison of fear
I wish to escape and live my life a fugitive
But the warden watches me and i can never leave
My heart once whole is in pieces like a pizza
And its so cold as if my chest cavity is a freezer
I always thought as long as the sky remains blue
That there will be someone who will always love me true
But I am here alone, the dead end of all dead ends
Gossiping with ghosts, my only true friends
Standing in confusion at the crossroads of darkness
Shivering from this bitter winter that whirls with madness
I am a puppet with too many string attached
They treat me like an object, neither born nor hatched
Made to break my back, the inevitable daily bread toil
Earth is a title of deeds, and i own not a speck of soil
The world is still at war, super powers and alliances
Selling you currencies and electronic home appliances
In the name of technology you have to pay your bills
In the name of good health, you have to take your pills
I grew up innocently fast, a wide-eyed young fella
Clumsily surfing the modern tides, era of the bachelor
Television and movies; social media and smart phones
Heartbreaks and divorces; mortgages and quick loans
Made to believe I could be anything I wanted
Only to be made sleepless as my mind is haunted
By unfulfilled dreams and never-ending bankruptcy
Dog eat dog world still, deeper bites and lesser mercy
Every morning am washed ashore, to play again the same role
To drag my feet through mud as I try to reach a landlocked goal
They program me with no progress, no happy day i see
My fruitless efforts entertain them; the powers that be
Am always trying to catch the bus, while age tries to catch me too
Am getting worn out every year, just like my fake-leather shoe
All the struggling and running is in vain, it winds up down one place
The grave is soon to have me, whether i slow or quicken my pace
I will never be happy, life tastes worse than a plain meal with no spices
Am set like a bomb, about to go off in my midlife crisis
Luck is a poor man who in this world was never born
"Life is a gift!", whoever said that is a con
She drowned in the late eighteen hundreds
Alone but happy because her horrible life was finally over
She had been chattel at the hand of a ruffian.
A rogue her parents married her to.
She was glad to be gone.
It was not a good life
"Hey! Isn't that your face?" It was her friend, Angel Mama.
She looked back to earth in the viewing room.
It was her face, on a dummy of some sort.
She was shocked! "It was my earth face," she said.
They call you "Anne," Angel Mama said.
Her full earth name had been AnneMarie.
But her beloved Grandma Belle had always called her Anne.
She smiled. "What do they do with it?" She asked, frightened a bit.
"She saves lives," another voice said.
"She teaches people CPR, a way of saving people who are
drowning or choking."
What? Anne was shocked. Happy that her earth face was happy.
It was the first time she thought she almost saw it smile.
That face had not smiled in a long time.
The dummy looked so proud of itself!
When jay Townsend Johnson Henry
climbed in my windiw searching
for my American poetry sending
chills down my spine author star
Parker was parked awaited this
impersonator my poetry wasn't as
grand as Robert frost or even
Edgar Allen poe I was broken
disabled mother retired nursery
school teacher from Germany I
enjoy folklore poetry with my children
I adored writing I certainly wasn't
highly educated I attended a school
for journalism as a child in Chicago
writing was my passion my grammer
was way off miss spelling words but my
poetry was mine and she was obsessed
with my poetry my life hence my dearh
nevertheless my imposter grew
enraged fearing my safety after I
contacted the fbi the attorney general
office she crawled away like a spineless
crab leaving dirty sand mites in her wake
as she gathered killers and dealers
to murder me end my life for my
American poetry I still cringe at the
behest of the full knowledge of this
sheer hardship i survived her threats
assassination attempts while she would
finally dummy up to dumb down
fascinating to say the least my prayers
remain for the soul of this person of
such envy hatred and cruelty for me
cruelty for a disabled American poet
I thank god for saving me from my killers
even scrunching brow
defeats and doth be lie
this one measly mortal well nigh
tuckered out on par with calculating pi
tangential to asking if and/or
how i can access
fullest potential...say to write
about with the aid of symbols
i.e. letters to expound on an idea trite
or one that confounded mankind
many millenniums or quite
sum indeterminate orbits 'round el sol,
no ability within this mite
ova reproductive happenstance (yes me),
whom ye could tell go fly a kite
for inducing confusion,
but the nature of this har re: beast
with a little insight
gripped, harangued, rankled,
et cetera, thus communicates
hello or goodnight,
which understandable
simple words may not excite
as quotidian oft repeated philosophical
mental challenges
i didst expend effort to cite,
which mind exercises offers
no exit, ouch that doth byte
and if subjected to a brain scan
would blind technicians
and set alight
frenzied uproar amidst *****Sapiens
via intense thinking to induce blind
ness flailing at feeling trapped
asper being teased at find
ding no beginning
or end like a mobius strip
analogous to space/ time continuum
that little effort could
blow a fuse in the mind.
adieu: from matthew scott harris
hook halls schwenksville, pennsylvania
hiz home tow win.
When two people get married
The groom should change his name
They should call him "Crash Test Dummy"
But now the bride, she can stay the same
When a man marries a woman
And she don't how to cook
He has to test them recipes
Made out of some dumb book
Of course, that means food poisoning
And a trip to the emergency room
Remember I said, "Crash Test Dummy"
Cause he's no longer the groom
And if she ever asks him
If she's getting fat
He'll probably be wearing a helmet
To protect him from her baseball bat
And now that leaves his mother-in-law
The biggest danger he's seen yet
For when she comes to visit
It's something he'll never forget
That's why we call him "Crash Test Dummy"
Because marriage is a pretty rough ride
He's gotta buckle up and hold on tight
When he marries his beloved bride