Best Fouls Poems


Slither

Slither
me slips me beasty heart
beneath a piece of guise,
and pens some page of wisdoms
to place before they's eyes,
and with they's gaze diverted, 
me dons me cloak of thief's,
and slithers in and steals they's love,
and leaves thems only griefs.

me slimeys up the way theys moves
about they's drudgy lifes,
and causes thems to kicks like bugs,
all caught in stuffs and strifes.
me sees this murky-mucky,
and glees it close to  breast;
me knows me must continue thus,
or becomes like alls the rest.

but me sorrowfuls am becoming,
as guise weighs heart likes lead;
it darkens up me seeings in,
and fouls insides me head.

now me greeny eyes does leakings
with only leastest nudge,
and from me slitty portals
comes oozing weeps of sludge.
Categories: fouls, fantasy,
Form: Rhyme

Saturday Fight Night

Battered and bruised mommy cries as she tries to cover her black eyes.
But mommy doesn't see daddy as her demise.
One January 25 mommy and daddy awaited as baby arrived.
Smiles of comfort and tears of joy came as so did the baby boy.
Mommy and daddy weren't ready to take care of the child for daddy was still a child.
At heart mommy took all those foul mouth liquor jeers from daddy's mouth but baby didn't 
know what that was about.
Mommy stays with daddy for the child, not realizing that it is doing more harm than 
anything...comes from daddy's mouth and baby takes it in not realizing.  
Flashing lights and sirens ring incredulously one slumber-some December night as baby was 
tucked in tight...while mommy and daddy was going on like it was Saturday fight night.
Baby cries but whose there to hear for mommy and daddy curse and de fouls the baby's ear.
Baby's heart is broken and shattered as mommy is shaken and battered.
Sweet kisses to mend her wounds internal and external but are they sincere from daddy's 
heart.
They will never part even though in mommy's heart she wishes daddy would leave forever.
One grief-some January 25 mommy rested never to return for her and daddy went on a 
walk.
"Where is mommy", said baby but daddy couldn't talk.
What could he say "I beat mommy till I killed her leaving her internally bruised and brain 
dead."
He couldn't say that any way for he was talking to Tiny in cell block five that day.
And baby has no other choice than to realize that his family was nothing more than a mere 
disguise.
Sirens ring
Sirens ring
Battered and bruised mommy cries for help as she fights for her life.
Because daddy has beat her till her eyes turned dark as night.
It's ironic because baby has become a fighter in Saturday fight night.
Categories: fouls, socialfor her, baby, heart,
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Great Ocean

Great Ocean

Great ocean you are mother of the earth
whose span of quantum time is endless yet.
With secrets buried deep within your surf
your tidal moods are changed with day's sunset.

Great ocean life springs forth within your bowels
and yields a harvest for the world to see.
So much could just be learned from fish and fouls
the kinship that is boundless by decree.

Great ocean you have power as an element,
a thing which can’t be harnessed by a man.
At times it is quite clearly evident
as a storm at sea dictates at your command.

Great ocean you are beautiful but sad.
The world has dumped its garbage at your door.
You are holding all the plastic that’s been had.
Fish are eating it upon the ocean floor.

Great Ocean praise your salted essence pure.
Your might and darkest depths remain unknown.
You are a God hand miracle for sure
a wonderment of wonders all your own.

8/7/19

'STRAND CHOICE 7
Sponsor:  Brian Strand
Categories: fouls, ocean,
Form: Quatrain

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Football

Fall brings football season.
Friends, family gather,
for friendly rivalry.
Food and drink are a must!
Field goals and touchdowns scored;
fouls flagged by referees.
Faithful fans come alive!

8/28/15
Categories: fouls, food, football, fun,
Form: Pleiades

Won'T It Be a Sweet Sixteen

How is it going?
I hope life is still as flowing
because it isn't right now.
At fourteen, you only get faults and fouls.

Will you look back at me today
and laugh in a despising way?
What will you do, who will you meet?
Are you still willing to help the beggars on the street?

Is your heart full of passion or has it turn cold?
Do you praise yourself or do you still scold?
Do you still see the world in blackish white or reddish blue?
Do you still want to bid your sadness adieu?

Are you alone right now, do you remember me?
If you don't, then please look at the willow tree.
You know which one, it's behind our lawn.
I carved my name on it before December's dawn.

If you look at the initials you might recall
the memories you had of me and him late that fall.
Maybe you aren't as innocent as you were any more
but that's okay because life wouldn't be such a bore.

Tell me about yourself, tell me what's going on.
I want to know if you still visit that lake of swans,
that wooden tree house and that fort made of vines.
I want to know everything, isn't anything fine?

In two years, you'll tell it all
but hey, no one's stopping me from breaking the walls.
I want to know my future, I want to know you
so I will be aware of what I'll shortly go through.

Hopefully I'll get a reply soon,
probably on my birthday, some time in June.
You'll write to me and solve the mystery
that once was hope, but built your history.

~17-12-2012
Categories: fouls, childhood, growing up, hope,
Form: Couplet

God Digested

It takes man to create god.
It takes people to consume a 
thought.
With the world and all it's 
delusions,
Promises made, 
Lives destroyed with 
superstitions.
Death, destruction.
The corruption of mankind.
Arrogance and ignorance run 
the population.
 
When will god go down?
Down the depths of the 
digestive system.
What makes the thought so 
reasonable?
Do you swallow the preachers 
words?
Without question, be 
considerate.
A little criticism is what your 
god deserves.
 
A god like yours is neither here 
nor there.
From the depths of the ocean 
to the tallest mountains.
There's no god around who 
cares.
What makes it so real for a 
maniacal man to find answers 
in something so false?
Why is your faith worth more 
than the life of someone who 
dares question your claims?
 
The god that you worship is 
stuck in the throat.
Waiting to enter the stomach 
and bowels.
Allow him to exit the ******* of 
society and go down the drain 
with the rest of the fouls.
Categories: fouls, absence
Form: ABC


Such Is Life

they tried to destroy my whole being. my oppressors were far stronger then me.
they torture me as a child, yes i was only twelve-years olded, but a young lion cub
who's mother was brutally gunned down by mobsters and villans.

yes, i was left for the fouls of the earth to ravish my torned being.  yet, there was a power 
so 
great amd massive that i was taken to a horrendous place to wax in strength and wisdom.  i 
was place in a haven of jackels, knaves, scoundrels, murder, and thieves roamed freely. i 
was'nt tainted by such ruthlessness, because i was a proper child of the Living God.

yet i did behold the tragic acts of cruelty and deeds of viciousness, but it stayed from my 
being.  often times i question He who created all things, as to why was i expose to such evil 
andwhy was i robbed of my nest as a child.,

He merely embraced me and told me that i had to teach, encourage, be a witness of His un-
conditional love, mercies, and grace.  as the river of jordan streamed from my tiny marble 
twin pearl brown-eyes, His kissed me and told me that this too will pass my beloveth son.

now i am this mighty, but gentle Lion Of Judah that has all might and power at my beckening
call if need be. i have learned the patience of life in order that life can be preserved for those
who have travel the valley as i did. we have overcome in order that those who have yet to be
born into this life of deception, treachery, and greed, will know that they have a purpose and 
will be protected from the ills of the blindness and folly of irresponsible beingss that do 
partake of the breath of life with no regard for life.  yes, even those we must forgive and not
be as they are. i suffered and i overcame.  such is life, as my friend once said.
Categories: fouls, brotherlife, me, life, me,
Form:

Dead Dog

DEAD DOG

For decades this dung fouls the air
Sabotaging our sniffs of the dew scents

The peace we know had risen against us
Standing on our toes like a prodigal Son

Calling from Afghanistan to Pakistan
Dirges for our generation

It has been long, it has been painful
And endlessly, there was one thing

Everywhere of our nooks
His calls sounds bells of hell

His quests smells like blood
Splashing it on every white tomb

Not knowing he exalts martyrs bones
They died in blood of ice

Cold and innocent
Ah, Ah, Ah! those bullets

Thanks he took the last roullette
The end of Osama

A birth of a Lion King, the reign of Obama
Dear world, Offer me a gourd of palm wine

To plead the fishes to mourn him to eternity 
Till father grant him a final hearing

As I wait for his reincarnated soul.
Categories: fouls, death
Form: Haiku

Rabid Curs

The war-dogs chew at the throat of Man,
Killing as canines can,
With drooling jowls and fetor that fouls
The air, with harrowing warrior-howls--
They herald the End with their yelps and yowls.
© Steve Eng  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: fouls, war
Form: Verse

Premium Member Spring Is Not All Rainbows and Butterflies

Ah, Spring: each laden cloud more rain delivers,
that soaks our clothes and in our new shoes sloshes.
Our streets blockaded thanks to pregnant rivers,
with mud tracked in the house from kids' galoshes.

Ah, weeds: the bane of ev'ry gardener!
Unwanted life that fouls our garden's bliss.
Dear mother nature, we must pardon her
for her green demons turning Spring amiss.

Ah, noise: new Vernal life creates a riot
as crickets, birds, and frogs return to form.
It makes one long for Winter's tranquil quiet -
not all is calm when days grow long and warm.

Come March, not all is magically renewed - 
with rain and weeds and noise, Spring's downright rude!


written 30 Jan 2023
© John Watt  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: fouls, spring,
Form: Sonnet

Best Player of the Game

In the game of basketball, 
It's up and down the court; 
Ready to dribble and shoot, 
Each player shows his worth.

One cager emerges superb, 
From every angle scoring; 
He drives hard to the basket
As the fans stand, cheering.

He plays the center role, 
Standing six-foot-eleven; 
Armed with two big hands
As well as long fingers ten.

The heart of a champion
Beats in determination; 
Either offense or defense
Has an ample attention.

He knocks down three-pointers, 
Doing fade away jumpers; 
Hauling down big rebounds, 
Like a machine in four quarters.

He leaves the defenders in shock, 
Using his lateral quickness; 
He issues lightning-quick assists, 
Highlighting no-look passes.

Taking fouls from ferocious foe, 
He is strong in body and mind; 
He goes straight to the stripe, 
Making free throws from the line.

He blocks every single shot, 
Making a fruitful fastbreak; 
Doing double crossover 
To put an icing on a cake.

Hard to stop catch-and-shoot, 
Points his team pile up; 
But the other wants to take the lead, 
To emerge and win the cup.

In the last two minutes
The score is tied at 99 all; 
The great dribbler dunks, 
Wanting not to lose or fall.

After the tie-breaking shot, 
He steals from the point guard; 
He wants a step-back jumper
Done by the power forward.

But behold the other quintet
Defending so very tight; 
The lead remains at two, 
Until they make it all right.

The very exciting game
To overtime period goes; 
As both clubs deliver, 
Trading every shot that flows.

With half a second remaining, 
To give up no one does want; 
After the last full time-out, 
Both hope to be in front.

The ball now is in his hands, 
The score is still the same; 
He makes the last shot to earn
The best player of the game.
Categories: fouls, basketball,
Form: Verse

Chocolate

What a delight!
I cant get you out of my sight!
You never want to fight 
and never give me a fright

As long as we are pals
I'll never make any fouls
You blow me away like the owls 
And will never make to throw in the towels

I can make you into stew 
you never make me go "PHEW!"
I can count you by the few
and you never tell me what to do.

I have a desperation 
But i alway led myself into tempation 
You have this sweet sensation
and i make sure there is no separation

You never stare 
Even though I glare
I can by you at a fair,
and you never wear and tear.
Categories: fouls, passionme, me,
Form: Englyn

Forged By Fire

Forged by fire, my burning heart
As the hammer pounds to shape
The sacrificial apatite of the gods
Within the delusory Dragons Den
And love hibernates in a Hellion hole

Where demons dine demanding death
A pernicious smell fouls the ambient air
The Hydra prepares to unleash her wrath
For love is mangled in the molded madness
Left to the ravaging ruins a statue appears.






May.26.2019
Pick A Tile, Vol 5 
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh


Honorable Mention...Thank You
Categories: fouls, fire, heart, lost love,
Form: Verse

I Lamented, For I Found Not My Eye

I HAVE TRAVELLED THIS LONG AND DISTANT ROAD IN SEARCH OF YOU MY BELOVETH.  
WHY MUST YOU HAUNT ME WITHIN THE CONFINES OF MY DREAMS? WHY MUST YOU 
TORTMENT ME IN THE HEAT OF THE DAY AND THE COOL OF THE NIGHT? I HAVE FOUGHT 
THE ANGRY FOULS OF THE AIR AND HAVE DEFEATED THE BEAST OF THE FIELDS, THAT I 
MIGHT CONTINUE THIS QUEST IN SEARCH OF YOU.  YET, TO NO AVAIL HAVE I EMRACED 
NOTHINGNESS.

I HAVE SEEN THE UNWANTED LIGHTS OF THE NIGHT SKY.  PLEASE LET ME BE AS THE BLIND 
WHO SEE ONLY WITH THE EYES OF THEIR HEARTS. DO NOT LET ME AWAKEN ANOTHER 
DAWN WITHOUT YOUR LOVE OF EMINENCE.

WHAT EPIDEMIC IS THIS THAT HAS BEFAILED ME.  HAVE THOU NOT KNOWN SINCE THE 
DAWN OF TIME THAT WE WERE MEANT TO BE.  YOU HAVE COME FROM THE VERY TOUCH OF 
MY EXISTENCE. FOR YOU ARE THEE, WHOSE CENTER MOVES ALONG THE CIRCUMFERENCE 
OF MY WHOLE BEING.

MY DARLING WHY HAST THOU FORSAKEN THE SEARCH FOR THIS ENRICHED AND 
PRESERVERED LOVE WHICH AWAITS FOR NO OTHER BUT THEE? WHY HAVE THOU HARDEN 
THINE HEART AND TURNED A DEAF EAR TO MY WAILING AND WEEPING FOR MY MISSING 
RIB.

OH MY EVE, WHERE CANST THOU BE?  EACH BREATH THAT I TAKE WITHOUT YOU , 
BECOMES MY AWAITING  INSCRIPTION ON MY TOMB IN MEMORY OF THE SEARCH FOR THEE.
THUS SHALL IT READ:HE DILIGENTLY SEARCHED FOR HER WHOM HIS SOUL LOVETH, YET 
SHE NEVER CAME FOR HER ADAM. OH HOW MELLIFLUOUS WAS MY MIND AND HEART, FOR 
THEY KNEW WHAT THEY WERE MISSING.
Categories: fouls, devotionfor her, me, for
Form: Ode

Dusty

Dusty


He meets with elusive witches
Spanning deep gullies and ditches
Cracked faces to suture stitches-

The whimpering teething child
With body seething hot and wild
Soon he sleeps with pain mild.

With ease he digs out sore tooth
That fouls the wretch’s mouth
To remove a cyst from “th’ rooth”

Suffering ill-timed complex labour
He swings a miniature sabre
Retrieving breech future blubber!

Dusty’s offers invaluable solace
To they who in disgrace grimace
By the knowledgeable embrace!


                    ****


He’s a little more concerned
  With scrub and putting up patches
Or seeing patients stir in fitness
  And to mend the ailing wretch.

Relieve or solace a man who gives
  Removes from an ailing heart 
Pain, misery and a load of gyves.

With needles so thin and sharp
And a handful of bitter pills
Music of the soul Doctors harp
To postpone execution of wills!

When Dusty’s around in a show
Terrified by his paraphernalia
Illness and misery cringe or bow!

Prognosis and its efficacy 
  Is measured by number of graves-
Much Dead scrap you’ll see
  When a mechanic misbehaves:

Child with a body simmering hot
  Dad with his usual aching head
Sweet Mum with her hell lot....



**Dedication to the Dustcoats, I mean Doctors!

JM

21st Nov’ 2013
Categories: fouls,
Form: Rhyme
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