Best Flimflam Poems
What underhanded monkey business
razzle-dazzle bull is this?
Whose double-crossing, flimflam scam,
debauchery or hocus sham
is wheeling dealing in romance,
putting lovers in a trance?
Antics, capers or witch's brew,
enchanting hymns or shaman's stew,
whose quackery or voodoo drink
made Casanova stop and think
and turned the ancient lovers cold;
poor Romeo and nymphs of old?
Perhaps black magic's potent gel,
or craftiness or wicked spell,
a clever con or master hoax,
or just some trickster playing jokes.
Whatever ruse that works the arts,
mumbo jumbo seduces hearts!
She was gooey like maple syrup
& marshmallow s'mores,
stronger than a mountain lion
protecting her cubs,
wore prescription rose-tinted
sunglasses with GPS,
she'd been around long enough
to see through most of the
negative flimflam and ambiquity,
was agile enough to laugh at
her own cheeky caricature,
wouldn't put up with the travesty
'neath debauchery's cunning
still, she wondered as most do,
what was to become of a world
so engrossed in the overthrow
& disparaging mockery of others
she bade her time waiting to grow
older and wiser in hopes
she'd be around long enough
to experience a sunrise view
in universal accordance
before her own last sunset
ultimately bites the dust,
burning in all-inclusive ashes
Written: December 29, 2023
___________________________________________
Mahogany motionless shadows
cast by deceitful sun,
a caterwaul unravels,
coeval betrayal
voice beckons glimpses
—of anguish
within the heart loci,
once pure and corpulent,
now rapt by crestfallen darkness,
bereavement blight.
synchronous with aquifers
Interfluve ferri-crete...
desultory.
A love so tender,
akin to a fragile bloom,
now withered and wilted,
lost in the gloom,
a vow is broken
trust shattered in shards
of diaphanous slogans
leaving behind, disconsolate
heartbreak—real misery abounds.
In magenta shadows
cast by a deceitful sun,
whispers of deceit,
waltzed in the wind,
saffron sun rays
masked the spuriousness
in perfidy of truth,
as a venomous snake—slither
exposing whopper &
taradiddle
causing hearts to wither
In depths of darkness,
truth did reside,
unveiling deceit,
where love once thrived,
a web of lies spun
entangling hearts
in a web of
perfidiousness
deviousness
guilefulness
& flimflam
how the heart weeps,
its innocence lost,
It once held love's warmth
betrayal wound is effusive.
A turbulent ocean
of bereavement
overwhelms this heart
eviscerate...
& in egregious pain
no relief in sight
only an aching hole
despite sorrow
mercilessly embraces
a glimpse
of grace and hope,
yet, darkness...
holds strength
empyreal resilience.
The teen’s face beamed with pride in his new car,
But Bestie exploded in jealous rage.
His reluctant congrats, a lame sidebar;
“I’d simply rather walk”— framed his outrage.
On Friday she failed the entrance exam,
Going to college, now holds no desire,
Higher education—a real flimflam,
she declared, all she’d felt now a fool’s pyre.
Excuses shirk blame—we can all decry,
Winning is fun, but losing kills yearning;
Life isn’t perfect—things do go awry,
But disparagement isn't good learning!
Be strong and just—suck it up when you lose.
Raisins are just sour grapes—with a bruise.
August 19, 2018
Attention all voters
Who love a great scam
The Republican Party
Now welcomes flimflam
Republican healthcare
Fell apart at the seams
Through an absence of facts
And a surplus of dreams
Republican planning
Takes a decade or two
To discover what's missing
Is an average IQ
American healthcare
(Most expensive on earth)
Will not save your life
But destroy your net worth
So enlist in a Party
Where the money rolls in
And believe those in Congress
Can spend it like sin
No pilgrim had healthcare
Play the cards that you've got
For, "I am the President,
and you are naught!
The Orangutang:
There once was a traditionalist,
Who in his ignorance had missed
The beauty of youth,
The ever-changing truth!
He's a typical fundamentalist!
The Traditionalist:
"I can't stand these kids and their slang!
They are just looking for a bang!
Their rhymes are funky,
But so are monkeys!"
- Did he just call me an orangutang?
"These darn kids and this gosh darn slam,
It may flow, but it's still a scam!
If it ain't metered,
Then it's petered!
Why waste your ink scribbling flimflam?"
An orange and tan
orangutan
with origins
that span
to Pakistan
orates flimflam
o'er an ornate
garbage can
ordained an oracle
by an ordered clan
to plant a plan
for their ordure
that ornaments
said garbage can
the ornery orangutan orotundly
upon does scan
It has taken me time to get to here,
a journey of pieces, fragments I grasp;
I have climbed up life's mountain- every tier !
Good morals, values and wisdom - I clasp,
I now have perception of who I am;
all bad negativity I unclasp !
Oh, I dislike deception and flimflam,
and my philosophy is to stay calm;
I stay with my doctrines and my program !
Truth, patience and composure is my balm,
I was brought up to know the right from wrong;
there are times when stressed that I read a psalm !
I find this way of living makes me strong,
my beliefs are simple- love everyone;
peace, love and harmony is my life song !
Don't want my life to be a hit-and-run,
I, often refine perception- insight
no wish for my life to be a rerun !
When I fall, fail I stay always polite;
and will clear my mind to look for the light !
__________________________
November 14, 2020
Poetry/Terza Rima (non Iambic)/It Has Taken Time
Copyright Protected, ID 11-1304-758-14
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
Written for the contest, It's a part of me-
Life and the perceptions and philosophies you hold,
sponsor, Silent One
First Place
His parents didn't condone the viewing of
The Twilight Zone. A bunch of silly nonsense,
his dad would claim. What was Rod Serling's aim,
writing and directing such fantasy induced flimflam?
Much to my good friend Sam's bemusement, after he
burned the tapes just days short of being too late for
relevance. Right there on front pages news was an
article about the red, white and blue's devotion to
maintaining world peace.
(It’s the thought that counts at the very least!)
"War on terrorism strikes yet again we are
sending thousands more men. Please, let us pray
they get shipped back breathing, but if not let's not
waste precious time grieving. We still must teach those
Arabs to be civil and decent. Come on down, my fellow
Americans, it's a family event!"
And thus I reminisce the speech from The Obsolete Man,
back when tyranny was a ghost story, to be told around a campfire,
late at night, "Don't fret my children. It's only a story—
everything will be alright!". Serling's famous quote was the following note.
(with a few polishing touch-ups),
"You are about to enter a world that has one iron rule;
logic is an enemy and truth is a menace. This was
Mr. Timothy Hicks, in his last 48 hours here on earth.
He is a citizen of the state but will soon be eliminated,
because he is built out of flesh, and because he has a mind.
Mr. Timothy Hicks, who will draw his last breaths, in
the Reality Zone."
NOTE: The speech at the end is from the episode, The Obsolete Man, of The Twilight Zone (I just replaced Romney Wordsworth with my own name). If you haven't already watched it, it's an awesome episode!... I'm a huge fan of The Twilight Zone, however...
Quintessentially phantasmagoric,
her cobalt skies' chimerical fancy
whores itself out for poetry,
sumptuously cached 'tween
a revelation's optical illusion
enchanting white knights
and seducing dragons alike,
her flimflam elusively lofty
& difficult to evermore be captured
amidst celestial spheres of rapture
It is not real to think that I came here to be no one.
I came to sing, dance, and entertain not to be with any man.
If I should find one along the way, I will love him every day until he changes.
Why are you a hit and I am a b*t*h is because you insult me to become easy.
I am not your fruit tree ready to be harvest.
I am my own person who seeks prominence.
This is what the world promise.
I have travel far.
I have been unsure.
But, today I am confident that I am a new woman.
You hear my audience screaming for my performance.
They flimflam.
They just love it.
Why are you a hit and I am that b*t*h?
The answer is because I am not.
You insult your senses because you are publicity.
I am not your fruit to eat.
I am promise to the world of entertainment.
Please, bow to the Queen!
______________________|
Penned on May 05, 2014!
while soaring the heavenly heights
many hours ago
every major metropolis appeared
about a million miles below
the rarefied atmosphere
ideal composition beckoned angels,
who bustled, hustled, and jostled elbow
(which bedlam, flimflam, and mayhem
intimated Hells Bells)
wing trying (heavens to Betsy) to flag attention,
and snag coveted soundcloud Netherland Award
cap ping bulging port folio,
which hubbub charged crackled, popped,
snapped amidst light emitting diodes
with a snazzy aura, charisma
harp pulling, piping, and chiefly
paying praise (CI years post haste)
to William Henry Perkin
whose credit able karma
(and unwitting) claim to fame didst glow
purple, which jumpstarted incandescent halo
couture culture club, via constant comet inflow
of Plasmodia vaguely resembling microscopic red Jello
illuminating swath of dusky
shutter flying sky sustaining
self contained feedback instagram loop know
wing lee broadcasting mauveine staccato low
to the groundswell of chemists dyeing, Googling,
and gratefully huzzahing insinuating
killing, kindling kissing
malaria goodbye, an outlook
(nee a once in a lifetime moe
mint - je nais sais quoi) win out loud
respectably sedulous honoree, a no
bill sine qua non bit player aniline
(to conclude this short poem) about his oh
penning accidental discovery kickstarting pro
noun est contribution to the fashion industry.
Need An Excuse
Why would I ever need an excuse
When I wanted to pursue a ruse
Making love followed by romance
At barroom while we would dance.
Did dance around like on a carrousel
Something about you seemed to compel?
Me to have feeling so extraordinary
Bright baby in future could you carry?
But it had been like a flimflam affair
And when it ended we did not care
Was as if together we shared a room
Being beautify bride with her groom.
Ecstasy was now truly in the making
Both of our breath's away was taking
Why should we put off or even stall
Then to each other we gave our all.
Yes, for the moment surely did live
And would give anything to retrieve
All of the things that we have done
When her hair was worn up in a bun.
That night still appears in my dreams
And when each time I think of it seems
Forget it, I definitely never ever will
Wonderful experience w did fulfil.
James Truthful Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
Morbid fascination (mine) as covid-19 pandemic...
foments rampant monopoly on bedlam
Wreaking ball (his stick) havoc (think ostensible
civil war scale not seen since Vietnam),
whereby microorganisms jamb
*****sapiens immunity system
complements of gook
resembling green eggs and ham
necessitating Doctor Seuss
to stoke bram
bullying cat in the hat
on a hot tin roof damn
senseless cant be understood
Matthew Scott Harris argot sham
bulls (red dilly), and sallies forth
with neither reason only rhyming flimflam.
All Joe King aside - at any rate,
yours truly, (a generic garden variety reprobate),
not hell bent to receive nasty hate
male courtesy vexatious reader to berate,
cuz unwelcome chide and chime
prompts gnome mad tick versifier
to test (ease silly) to provoke ye to fulminate.
Humanity now fishtails helter skelter
across oblate spheroid courtesy coronavirus
global pandemonium unleashed
expletive maniacal tsunami
(think) metaphorical groundswell
primates hurry scurry to and fro,
hither and yon frenziedly
pell-mell housing random erratic
discombobulated, bobble headed
(simulating) quasi Brownian movements
at warp speed embarked
upon impossible mission.
Here I paraphrase (er... rather plagiarize)
President John F. Kennedy,
whereby he delivered on January 20, 1961
his inaugural address in which he announced
"we shall pay any price, bear any burden,
meet any hardship, support any friend,
oppose any foe to assure the survival
and success of liberty."
Though the then USSR
(Union of Soviet Socialist Republics),
now identified as
union of Soviet socialist republics
helped cook who nurse (and ratchet)
state of political hostility
existed between Soviet bloc countries
and US-led Western powers
from 1945 to 1990.
Our present crisis I aim(ed) to show touché
(pardon mum oddest tee) culinary poetic entree,
how bajillions of people mercilessly
unfairly subjected to influenza like agony
exhibiting following symptoms:
cough, fever, tiredness, difficulty breathing
(severe cases), yet
many met their untimely demise
with prompt care, nonetheless minimal delay
ferried them to awaiting quay
where Charon doth ferry
dead souls across Rivers Styx and Acheron
resignedly where forced to abandon treasures they
must relinquish all trapping he/she did parlay.
there was a man
a small man
-a little man
-a tiny man
a small little tiny
man who found a-tiny-small-little-something
he pulled on it -and realized it had give
he pulled -this stretchy-little-small-tiny
thing and it kept stretching this was when the
small man - who was a flimflam man after all
realized he had a workable-fraud
realized he had found something
big -really-big it was more than a
stretchy band it was a movement
one he’d sstretchh beyond one’s expectations
you could recognize him -by his large
*mouth - and by his *tiny little hands
*optional
you may fill in the word *filthy before mouth
or before tiny or both as you please -please
armand~