Best Forked Poems
When someone lies to me, sometimes it's difficult not to turn and walk away. I think they do it because of one of two reasons. Either they need to feel important, or because they think I'm too stupid to know they're lying."
Nothing irks me more than jerks who are habitual liars
Fibbers whose evil forked tongues I'd extract with pliers
Those who look me square in the eye and keep defying
my skeptical look of askance when I think they're lying
If I could bag lies, fake alibis and bull crap I am fed
I would be spreading that fertilizer in my garden bed,
aware that manure helps flowers bloom all year long
But the stench of bull crap would be much too strong
Liars can't be believed, even when speaking the truth
I find it distasteful, malicious, abhorrent and uncouth
They insult my intelligence, and I find it very repulsive
but to those who tell lies, it's irrepressibly compulsive
They keep trying their damnable best to get me to believe
that a ruse is the truth, but with malcontent they deceive
It's a fault of mendacious fabulists and cunning scams
With falsehoods they'd shave the wool of innocent lambs
No pearls I cast before such swine, who wallow in muck
Caught in webs they've woven, in quicksand, they're stuck
Liars move deeper into darkness with each fallacy they spin
Their recurrent falsehoods are bull crap, and will do them in
Woe to liars when their deceitful fabrications are exposed
Until the truth they admit, my door to them will be closed
Deceptions are forgiven if they are repentant and confess
But I'm not naive enough to keep falling for their load of BS
December 24, 2021
King-Size Bull Crap Contest
Sponsored by Charlie Messina
Spittle of diddle are many tongues forming spittle
two ends against the middle they diddle spittle
spittle, they diddle, as mucus forms of diddle, spittle
still` Breath of Spirit speaks to even the coldest souls
current of life excels the void womb thus swells
dilly, they dally, in death‘s valley, folly squirms the worms
Lately a person begins to read between the lines
how a network of human beings devalue another's worth
battered and bruised internally exhausted at times
they make you invisible shying away from the truth
To hurt someone that only wishes to speak and correct wrong
a violent nature lacks any respect to honour Justice correctly
certain groups have become hostile to straight talkers even violent
Charity cases crying over sin and vices to be accepted as normal
to carve the hammer into words etched on stone cold laid facts face
The bully is enslaved by their desire to overturn God
burning hate pretends to be polite sticking the dagger in
lacking innocence it poisons the purity in defence
You can be a murderer butchering defenceless beings
but you can't be seen to pray without being insulted
Forked lightning strikes
Never on the same branch twice
Split second moment.
(January 15, 2011 Wausau, Wisconsin)
(c) Copyright 2011 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved
The forbidden fruit, in a garden chaste
Hanging from branches of eternity
Forked tongue seduction, temptation's taste
From Eden to outcast , hard to believe
Our destiny becomes mortality
Knowledge of good and evil, we receive
Paradise interrupted, fall from grace
Redemption the solution, it's our hope
Flesh and blood deductions, human race
A lamb to the slaughter, the full price paid
With dusty conclusions we try to cope
Forgiveness the answer, sacrifice made
The forbidden fruit, in a garden chaste
Paradise interrupted, fall from grace
~~~~
Contest name: Cornish Sonnet
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
I hate when you bring out
this version of me,
I fly like a bat
I sting like a bee.
Hissing at you with
a red, forked-tongue,
I can spit like a llama
I can kick away dung.
I hate when the worst of me
releases such venom,
The stench from our arguments
Burn ... STOP!
What's been said I can't take back
or ignore it away,
No the scars are revealed,
and then on display.
So apologize to me
instead of Writing the next verse,
It's too painful to live with you,
It feels like a curse.
For anyone going through crap here is a bit of madness xxxxxxx
Why is it that a juice isnt speaking to a nine foot tree? A nine mile climb to a fortune tree, is a vertical axis of cake bake. And that us a sensible thought isn't it? But only if the polka dot worm is jiving away to a skyrim song. Oh no a duck has been cello taped at a left turn and the pigeon's ears have been superglued and the xylophone is talking again. It is right to be justified when standing in a jar of ice cream. Especially in a harbour. For harbours are making herons a jam bun and a cup of milky tea today so they are way too busy to have the ships over for supper outings. Undeniable is understandable but understandable can often be misconstrued and as tightly packed as squished bacon in a can with beans on toast. Laugh then. Go on. It is wise to go over there balaclava balancing on a nine foot ledge. Wheeled wombat waking women. And a womenswear department met a menswear sale at the junction nine hundred and fifty six thousand. Mirror that curve then you mighty click of clockwise clothing. Hahaha broccoli and carrot mixing. Hahaha spoons of spooks. Left angle right angle prefix sign. Dancing. Xxxxxx astronomical apple. Xxxxx monopolization Z z Z
We
ought
to keep all
of our words
soft and sweet, we
might have to eat them
You sound like a fingernail
dragged over a blackboard.
Every word cast as blackmail
from a forked tongue in cheek.
Bathed in the vile, bile of diatribe,
masticated to be flung as dung expelled.
Your snarled words reek with
the dissonant cadence of discordance.
As your eyes flicker
from side to side with lies,
you look away, unable
to face me, eye to eye,
unmasked,
unshielded,
nakedly exposed,
in tune tonality,
truthful.
Loves forked road
No longer side by side are we
When we drifted apart neither could see.
But here we stand so far apart
Hoping and wishing for a better start.
Our love we say, still exists deep within
Yet our treatment of each other feels like sin.
Unable to talk, so quickly anger arouse
Feelings are hurt, deep infliction housed.
Remedy we know, we must quick find
Both searching desperately within our minds.
For in one condition we have firmly agree
To continue this way and end must to see.
Yet down this road ,now the the fork we reach
One leads to a new future, the other we must cease.
The ending road neither wish to travel yet
For memories of our love we still hope to get.
The other road an agreement we hope to make
Together side by side, hand in hand to take.
But in our contract these values must follow
To love, honor, respect and in friendship to go.
For these old standing patterns of agreement
Must be replaced with new, the old is sent
Sent to the past forever to lie,
Buried deep away like a funeral must die.
In dedication to our future reunited love
In support and respect to each other made of.
So our hurts and betrayal must be put to rest
And with this new beginning extent of our love test.
For what brought us together most powerful strong
I pray each day no error we made for wrong.
Fall in love again impossible, some may say
But let us try this with every passing day…
No more cruel words ,no distance of soul
All things written above, these shall be our goal.
Inspiration has found me, with a new beginning
That promise I make to you …our love …no more sinning
Parents crisscross
Love overrides a sullen display-
My mind is not on time
Not lying outright
is far from the truth
Hesitance vacuous
barren of fruit
What never gets said
deceitfulness hides
Stalking and preying
while buried inside
The pulpit a soapbox
lectern a mask
Pontification
deceptions bombast
Wittingly fervent
the devil subverts
False implication
—the ultimate hurt
(Dreamsleep: February, 2023)
bend to break and bitterly fall
I could not stand to compromise at all
So when at last the phone did ring,
I turned up the music and started to sing
I had to forget that I was wrong
So I listened to every empowering song
But the shuffle granted me only tears
Is it really worth fighting in a friendship of years?
Perhaps this silence really is best
And thoughts of a future should be laid to rest
For what is the point of You and Me
if our feelings only atrophy?
salvation to the rich
damnation to the poor
blindness to the author
"the knifes are out to get her, she's always speaking with a forked tongue"