Best Euphemisms Poems
He's staring off into oblivion;
dead-lights, who of their own free will choose to illuminate
the gray matter microwave that is TV:
too vain, too vulgar. Thought Vanquisher,
brought to you by your friendly-facade-keepers:
the politicians pussyfooting on a pedestal
built of an uninformed (yet united) public -
whose belief in "connection" is in reference
to a wall socket. Not love. Not kindness.
Who unwittingly become hamsters on a wheel,
convinced of stars held in our pockets; while promises of prosperity
dangle on a string. Like Maya's caged bird we sing
- but not of freedom - to sing of that would be akin
to declaring the sun has risen in the east. Freedom is a given,
at least that's the belief that's bandied about.
There's a boldface lie in that belief . . staring us in the face.
Are we too ignorant to see or too coddled to care?
Organic antenna, playing a fuzzy station;
our loved one's voice like a pesky fly -
six-legged silhouette on precious phones.
Halfhearted hmms-and-yeahs exuding from lazy lips. A lone
wolf, misunderstood youth - the euphemisms of today,
tomorrow's regrets. The diarrhea of words floating
in cyberspace; ricocheting off planets, but never touching earth.
The constipation of passion - nonchalant bloodbath of values -
no one strong enough to carry the hearse. We'll have to work
together - in unity redirected - to carry the load of our ancestor's past.
We descendants who reap the aftermath; let's carry on and forgo the calm.
Complacency is no destiny to pursue; crack the bottle against the bow,
that ship has sailed. Let us dabble in truth, instead of sugarcoat lies;
deception maybe be sweet, but give it time, it'll go straight to your thighs.
Embrace controversy with a bear hug, and give tyranny a timeout.
And should our words sharpen swords instead of mold minds,
may the massacre be only metaphorical - and the white flag of truce
be mistaken for a canvas - painted with the blood of your passion.
In years gone by, folks didn’t like to say
God’s name to show surprise or great dismay,
and so you would hear “Goodness,“ “Gol” and “Gee,“
and also euphemisms for J.C.
Jiminy Cricket! Doesn’t that sound nice?
Jeepers Creepers, Jason Crisp or Cheese and Rice?
Godfrey Daniel! Surely you know that
is slang for God and “God rot it” is “Drat!”
“Oh my gosh,” “My goodness,” or simply “Lord”
replaced expletives that today come poured
from mouths of kids who can’t be mannerly
to just say “Leapin‘ Lizards“ or “Golly Gee!”.
You’ll hear (for damning something with God’s name),
“Dag nabbit” and “Dad gum.” They might seem tame
but fit the bill and give us a small thrill!
But dang it, why would someone say “Sam Hill?”
Words from the Holy Bible we enjoy
employing when we say Holy Moley,
Holy cow, Judas Priest (but WAIT!)
For Pete’s Sake! How did Judas ever rate?
Great Scott, there’s even Jumpin’ Jehosophat!
How the HECK did they ever come up with that?
By Jove, I’m nearly finished. Now pretty please. . . .
Instead of using Christ’s name, just say Jeeeeez!
Written July 26, 2015
Contrary let’s have a conversation
Let’s speak to euphemisms
And pregnant letters of anagrams
Sentencing fixation declaring persona non grata
Heads chopped for Eskimos
Sensing heresy and heresy’s
Running around context to a content
Telling a novel to a telenovela
Paragraphs to a paraplegic in paralysis
Please let’s not sell confirmation to be firm
Brought to be bought
Needles piercing through a pierced needle
Mending letters for letter heads
A grieve sensing tears departing death
Condolences speaking so well with pain
She’s passed on, on to the ethos-
And incarnations
Ancestors to an ancestor-
Leaving God with bill to captures guts;
A man with a liver
Words with a man and it was men
Independents, depending on what happens
Independents where are you?
Schizophrenia for frivolous
Respect for all who respond
Spirits speaking so well with spirituality
Serving a soul so soul for flesh purpose
Unity with bones for free
Miracles doomed and boomed in miraculous
Listening to a beginning: a sun so sweet for a sweet
Manifest in emblematic sworn in; the alchemy
Mending Words : THE TRENCHES
THE TRENCHES the pure truth so colorful, so to bring out the beast in a beast; philosophy, spirituality and dreams in priggish ways a fifth chapter.
If I proclaim to love the Lord
but hate my fellowman,
the Bible says I'm lying. Love,
not hate, is in His plan.
Bad attitudes towards others
if they're fueled day and night,
soon morph into destructive hate,
a vitriolic blight.
Though love can be so powerful,
hate can be just as strong.
We don't like to admit sometimes
our feelings are so wrong.
We choose to sugarcoat the truth
when hate is in our hearts.
We cling to euphemisms
while we throw our poison darts.
Sometimes we're hypocritical,
refusing to confess
to sins like hate; yet we still think
the Lord will surely bless!
Those motivated by ill will
will never know true peace.
They'll moan throughout a friendless life
and find no sweet release.
I. Noise in an empty hallway:
My old leather shoes protest as I hurry down the linoleum tiles
Like I'm wearing a little piece of history older than I am.
II. Headlights on a dark road:
Speeding down narrow country roads
windows rolled down and Autumn wind rushing through the car
Ripping my hair from its tie
My arm stretching out the window, numb in the night air.
III. Ephemeral beauty:
For a moment, life is endless and incredibly brief
Stretching before me like a dusty trail at sunset
Disappearing into the trees.
IV. Origin of life:
There is this vague, unnamable incomprehension in my chest
Like euphemisms, that is the easy way out
This is the hard way: I am alive, alive, alive
When one cell became thirty trillion, I gained consciousness.
V. I am not the sum of my parts:
I don't have the faith to believe
That all my thirty trillion cells are a fluke of nature
VI. Evidence:
I am the proof of divinity's existence
A signpost shouting "I am alive" thirty trillion times with all the power of my lungs
Designed for miracles
VII. Rene Descartes:
It is not
I think; therefore, I am
It is
I think; therefore, He is.
Class or Claaassee!
Night owl with an open circumstance fears
from blue neglect with the rages of unfortunate
idealisms---“why don’t you”---a nag nag nag
sequence, fosters an arm’s length gaze glance
I peer through picket fence fingers, while tongue
depressing hop to it emo euphemisms to gag
your elementary gesture fantasies with lurking
adult ill-ustrated gonatitudes, (egoenvy) in full glee—“I don’t
care---but then what if”---and
would even believe me if I tried to tell
you the truth, you don’t want to touch in mind.
I fail to the order of kindergartenal suicide
and prose my character to mold your moods in
one tenth hope of a swelled down deep particle
secret desire. Take it for what it is and not think
to misabandon, stop, look and feelisten.
Your neighbor is only good as you. Plain
simple downdeep and bittersweet bliss bias
but for—lorn fortunate to at least gain a
Goldilocks glimpse into your uncouth
vascular unconscious. Given a mathetical, grammitical
½ chance I may re-le-learn a think or 2 times nothing
and----------------------hey, gimme me a hecka break
as he/she in razed eyebrows in an eduillusion exactimum? Well, yea!
Tomorrow is Ours.
Suffocating beneath the weight of historical fear,
asphyxiated by the legacy of traumatised yesteryear,
the festering wounds of enslavement still remain,
juggling euphemisms in a crisp sound-bitten refrain,
spewing out neo-liberal economic charades,
doling out charity in strips of plastic band-aids,
but,
tomorrow shall be ours,
casting away subservient mind-sets that shackle,
no longer the weakened prey of the insatiable jackal,
tomorrow shall be ours,
we shall reclaim our plundered mindspaces,
we shall shed our chains, leaving behind the traces,
of past injustice, of the hurt and pain of our ancestors' sorrows,
we are here, now, alive with hope,
we shall rightfully claim our own tomorrows.
Euphemisms collateral damage
children died and you smiled
at the flashes of light
bombs make at night
casualties counted
casualties filed
television is making us numb
its sound we march to like a drum
Hermetics heirs presumptives of, harum-scarum....
Speculums mist beyond the threshold paints this night
With colours dipped in oils vibrant shadows of avatars
Soothsayers spring tide canvas' framed by
Buteos zenith....
Vantaged splashings from upon, the avant-gardes
Separtist spaces amid such moments tembres these
Belles-lettres', artesians wells of euphemisms eulogies towards this
Hexagons phoenix now vivified from yesteryears
Bittersweet nightshade personified; segues seignior!?
Renaissonic refurbs....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
....In vogue ~
Note: Smile ~ A poetic kiss amid the celebrative marking of my
fourth anniversary here today at, Poetry Soup! ~ "Love," John!:) ~
A source of poetry and art, of keen wit and generosity, slipped past our touch.
On Sunday morning, having seen
The crocuses begin, she left her frail house
And her sudden leaving had less to do
With our ideas than with the green arrival.
No sins evicted her; they troubled us
Who pray for special favors to ease
The pain of stark equality;
And nothing we could have done
Would have stopped her going
Or the crocus coming.
Ritual euphemisms made
Our sad task bearable;
We were numb and practical
Beside our private loss.
Yet she is done with that which upsets us.
She paid in suffering for more
Than chartered life could give;
And God, who weighs all, will use this balance
As needed--elsewhere.
Hermetics heirs presumptives of, harum-scarum....
Speculum's mist beyound the threshold paints this night
With colours dipped in oils vibrant shadows of avatar's
Soothsayers spring tide canvas' framed by
Buteos zenith ~
Vantaged splashings from upon, the avant-garde's
Separtist spaces amid such, moments; tembres these
Belles-lettres', artesians wells of euphemisms eulogies towards this
Hexagon's phoenix now vivified from yesteryears
Bittersweet nightshade personified; segues seignior!? Renaissonic refurbs.
Next you can expect Running Chestnut over the hill and through the grove in three moons and a coon's age but I am only as old as I can still remember only as I feel No rain no gain in my december pond In my day we walked uphill bare footed in dirt older than both ways in around about way growing gracefully Help I've fallen asleep at the wheel in my golden age and can't get up to see blue hair on the back burner Coming and going expression lines upon my face a moment of good vintage did I leave the stove on The Running Chestnut doesn't fall to far from the tree
What’s the kindest thing you can say,
about someone who’s not really nice
Compliment them in an obtuse fashion,
blunt talk wouldn’t be the right approach
Sometimes it’s hard to find
pleasant words
to describe somebody’s foul disposition
Oh, they just got up on the wrong side of the bed
Euphemistically speaking
that phrase was rather well said
Trying not to insult a person’s intellect,
can leave you groping for tasteful words
Sensitivity speaks with a thousand nuances,
each shade made for honesty to be received
He’s a couple cards short of a full deck
Euphemistically speaking,
your verbiage was rather circumspect
Turning vinegar piss into honey-flavored cider,
it takes master linguistic skill ...
even still, it may not always be effective
Some people won’t take criticism,
though given in the most respectful way
Euphemisms are politely stated aphorisms
The customer is always right
Euphemistically speaking,
it was expressed with rather delicate insight
Even when someone is wrong as two left shoes,
wrong as laughing lustily at bad news
Euphemistically speaking,
that’s what a mentally challenged person is prone to do
In Other Words
By Elton Camp
Euphemisms verbally avert our eyes
Thus, the unbearable truth disguise
Unpleasant facts from selves to keep
I had my faithful dog “put to sleep”
Aunt Jane recently “passed on”
When into death she has gone
Salacious Sally “turned a trick”
Prostitution carries such ick
“Ethnic cleansing” is easier to abide
Than calling the action genocide
“Negative patient outcome” can hide
The plain fact that the person died
A lady always “powders her nose”
When it’s to urinate that she goes
An “early retirement option” I took
Better than “I was fired” it’ll look
“Culturally deprived neighborhood”
Sounds better than “a slum” would
To say “enhanced interrogation”
To avoid “torture” connotation
These are examples of tries
Unpleasant truths to disguise
Here, we celebrate a life. We say that it's a new
beginning, and then we weep.
Here, we discover clarity again, as snowflakes coat a
coffin lid - each one unique as if to say they
were crafted, fearfully, demonstrating
that love is meticulous.
Some here are stoic, their faces washed
with unfeeling while other faces exude sorrow.
I see sadness and apathy juxtaposed like
opposites on a color wheel and wonder
why this place seems monochrome.
Violins begin sweeping the air of its solitude.
A snowflake song beats cold in my bones
with notes that pinch a morphine drip,
which begs the question "why". Why doesn't the
cold make me numb, this time?
We try to crumble like statues, here, but these
statues carry flesh and blood. Their ears hear,
their minds think, and their skin feels that
iron-jawed bite, that Siberian chill...
Snowflakes coat a coffin lid. Here, we speak
euphemisms. We celebrate a life and call
it a new beginning, but we also weep at
the contradictions. As snowfall covers
the coffin lid, violins weave a snowflake
song with notes that open wounds like surgery,
and it begs the question "why". Why do my
feet feel nothing while my heart feels everything?