Best Gassing Poems


Premium Member Line In the Sand

Obama drew his mighty line in the sand
Dare ye not to cross me

Assad replied in kind
Gassing thousands and laughing

A little Syrian boy has drowned
Siblings to weak to cross that mighty line

Salvation was the evasive dream
Father shall never escape the nightmares
Categories: gassing, anger, angst, dark, death,
Form: Light Verse

Premium Member The Usa Is Not Perfect

The USA is not perfect
  never has been
    never will be 

Unlike Russia, which has
  ‘no alcohol problem’ 
     ‘no civil disobedience’
        ‘no LGBTQ populace’
Not to mention no truth in the 
information it disseminates to 
suckers around the world...

Yes, indeed, the USA is not perfect
  not with George Washington
    the 1700’s slaveholder (gasp!)
      on our currency, not to mention
         Susan B. Anthony, who was proudly
            anti-abortion, pro-life – for shame, for shame!
        
~ Our ignominious past consigns us to eternal penance ~

Unlike Libya, where an ancient slave trade flourishes
  to this very day: Muslims enslaving black Christians
    which does not fit the media’s narrative
       so most people aren't aware of it 
         and the rest don’t care about it 

Unlike Afghanistan, where the repression of the 'Old Taliban'
is now fully in place under the ‘Newer, More Gentle Taliban’

or Syria, whose butcher of a ruler has made refugees of half his
citizenry, gassing thousands of others with chemical weapons…

But yes, indeed, the USA is not perfect
   Never has been
     Never will be

Let us forever grovel in abasement to all the tin-horn dictators of the world
not to mention our home-grown squadrons of regressive radical progressives
 
Down with Jefferson, Lincoln, Grant, Teddy Roosevelt, Truman and Reagan!
Up with Omer, Tlieb, Pressley, Sanders, AOC, Corey Bush, Schiff, Nadler...
Long live Maduro, Castro, the Mullahs, Xi, bin Salman, Abbas, Gaddafi et al!

 Lies are Truths              Might Makes Right                Facts are Opinions

                                1        9         8          4
Categories: gassing, america, history, international, leadership,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member The Atheist

The Atheist believes in Rationality
   He mocks all religious emotionality

Calls it the opiate of the masses, pie-in-the-sky
   The snake oil of sinister ministers, insidiously sly

Whereas Human Reason, the Atheist confidently opines
   Leads man -- become god -- to outcomes supreme and sublime

Yet this very 'Reason' has provided justification
   For centuries of inhuman horror and abomination 

The 'great civilizations' of Greece and Rome left 'imperfect babies' to die 
   Abandoning them upon birth on rocky mountain-sides ... 

'Scientific theories' of dark-skinned peoples' inferiority
   of Caucasion superiority, led inexorably to humiliation and slavery ...

While millions of innocent people died all too recently 
   At the hands of Stalin and Mao, among other atheists, so brutally ...

It was 'reason' that led Adolf Hitler to conveive mass murder via gassing
   in showers which 'facilitated' six million Jews,' he labeled 'vermin,' passing

So, regarding the Atheist, the facts are quite clear
   ~ His 'rationality' does not consider human life to be dear


             Entry in "The atheist" poetry contest
                    Sponsor: Anthony Slausen
Categories: gassing, abuse, humanity, life, murder,
Form: Rhyme

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


My Grandad

My grandad was there when I was little;
My grandad would always make me giggle;
Telling jokes, stories and tales, my grandads love has never failed.

In Alder Street or at the flat, my grandads love, it was just that.

The market stall, to buy and sell. I'd always love the tales he'd tell.
From cheeky children, to hagglers galore, you mess with him, he'd show you the door.

On Christmas Day, when I was small, he loved the games, he'd play them all.
Pass the parcel he loved the best, even when he wore a dress.

He loved my brother, yes that's you.
When he came to visit, he'd visit you too.
From birthdays and Christmas, even just passing. I loved the sound of him just gassing.

He loved his whiskey, I would say cheers.
But I'm pretty sure he owes dad a few beers.

He loved his beard, perhaps too much.
He'd always stop mum from getting his cut.

He loved his children, his grandchildren too.
As for nanna, how could I forget you.
Well well nanna, what can I say.
You are the one with whom he lay.
After years of marriage, I know it's true, that grandad was, the one for you.

I've finished grandad, I've nothing more to say.
Except that I hope, you're proud of us today.
Categories: gassing, childhood, family, grandfather, grandparents,
Form:

Battle Rap

I see you got expensive shoes,
But you couldn't pay someone to screw you.
You walk around all day thinking you're hot as fondu.
Yeah, you got cheese,
And you think that makes you an OG.
Well, let us just see.
Yeah, we'll put that to the test.
You think that you're the best,
But you ain't got enough to put together a mess
Of words to make me feel less
like a man. When I'm done, you're gonna guess
At where you went wrong
Because this is a fighting song.
This verse ain't short, it's long
Because I'm going to rip you apart like I did your mom
Last night with my massive...
I'm blasting through this battle.
I'm amassing nukes.
I'm everlasting, dude.
You ain't got what it takes to be passing, fool.
I'm a master, you
Are just a massive douche.
I'm gassing you.
You ain't gonna be able to pick it up before I come after you.
You'll feel like half a dude.
I've got a magic spool
Of yarn that keeps flowing 
Like my words to make you realize I'm glowing
with power.
This is my hour.
I'm going to shower
You with disses like my granny waters a flower.
It's just gonna keep coming.
I'm running through and busting you
Like I'm cutting you and bussing through
I'm gonna be slapping you silly. 
This ain't no willy nilly, speaking like a hill-billy.
"I ain't got nuttin 'a say"
What's wrong with your brain
You should have known it was a mistake
To go up against someone as messed up and insane
As me. 
I'm king of the ring.
Your girl was a one night thing.
Just a quick fling.
Almost done now,
But before I dip I'm going to go to town
On you so that you make sure to stay off my ground.
Yeah, I'm going to make you bow down
With this final roast. 
I don't mean to boast,
But you can't bring enough heat to toast
Me, let alone host
these competitions. But don't give it to me.
Once I'm done with the beat,
You better know I'm gone like a ghost.
I'm on the Friends with Benefits level with your sister.
Your cousin calls me her mister.
Yo auntie wants me to fist her.
And now your bestie told me she got blisters.
I told you I was gonna make you wish ya
Had never stepped to me.
I'm the best, ya see.
This battle had cost you and the next ain't free.
Categories: gassing, 11th grade, 12th grade,
Form: Rhyme

Carbonated Sizzle Stop

Carbonated sizzle STOP 
me ....before I start!
I feel the vrrrroom in the room
take me to your carburetor
drop me into first gear
headed... where? .....Homespun 

Oil buster
dirt riding
lowwwwly... throttle neck
Chevy Pick me upper

"you moooove me"
but
Ferrari makes me starry
lamborghini makes me weak

I am grinding my gears here

there's quakes in my breaks...
been riding the straight down
to volume-ator creator 
breaking up the road 
walker
gassing up for the mighty miles
till this life us do part
ways to go 
to the finish me line
Categories: gassing, death, life, sexy, slam,
Form: Free verse


You Cant Help Me

I am a demon  born from things you can not see 
I am the devil look deep inside of me 
this smile was born from torture and amphetamines 
when I was 13 are lab exploded 
gassing the house with a toxic odor 
I woke up crazed and confused 
thinking to myself I burned the house down 
but I don't remember how or when 
I panicked I ran from home, dripping sweat in my underwear   
I remember someone yelling at me hey kid you ok 
I ran from him too scared insane the meth in my child's brain 
I went home and tapped on my sisters window she awoke 
jhin what are you doing are you crazy 
omg she smells it to runs out and hugs me its gonna be ok she says 
I'm trembling violently sweating profusely I hear my sister screaming 
my mother threating punishment if she told anyone about me, 
my step dad growling 
they come and get me, and whisper in the corner what should we do with him he's gonna die if we dont help him, lets called the hospitable and ask the nurses they did,  I could hear them talking with my mother next to me, lady are u insane your child is dying bring him in immediately phone hangs up cold rags hit my head for hours I hallucinate horrific nothings 
I watched the clock spin around for hours seeing creatures break the liquid hell walls of my home. when i was 16 I was accepted into college I did one year before the demons came crawling in infecting my mind screaming at me controlling me they said I was skitzo-affective with severe PTSD ,I dropped out of school thinking I was broken not worthy and started to use and abuse .I often think how much more intelligent I could be  if that incident didn't happen who i would be without my parents, a different time with a different family, now I often act dumb so I can get along with other humans, if I act myself and say what I really think people don't relate to me, im nothing so i pretend to me stupid so i can have friends that think they get me , im all alone with myself in my self always
Written by sinisterpenz (sinisterpenns)
Categories: gassing, abuse, america, anger, child,
Form: Free verse

The Candyman

You say it’s hella dope to meet me
And all I have to say
It’s hella dope to meet you too
And you’re getting hella dope today

No, this won’t be memorable
Of this you can be sure
If your disease is reality
Then I’ve got the cure

'Cause I’m the Candyman, the Candyman
The most educated bartender in all of this land
The Candyman, the Candyman
Knocking you out with a wave of my hand

It’s all about context, 
That’s my feeling
It’s all about context, 
And my context is healing

It’s all about context
And if it isn’t 
All about context
I’ll be in prison

‘Cause I’m the Candyman, the Candyman
getting your kids just as blotto as I can
the Candyman, the Candyman
Packin’ the highest grade dope in all the land

Yes, ma’am, I’m sure 
That gas smells bad
But you know, ma’am, 
It’ll make him glad

Yes ma’am I hear
That syrup tastes bad
But if I knew that for sure
I’d be an unemployed dad

Cause I’m the Candyman, the Candyman
Gassing your kids just as fast as I can
The Candyman, the Candyman
And if I weren’t a doc I’d be living in a windowless van…

6/1/16
© By Author
For Contest: That Colorful Drug
Sponsor: Lewis Raynes
Categories: gassing, children, health, humor, work,
Form: Lyric

The Old Girl

The Old Girl

Yep, I bought her back in the 30’s,
Right in the middle of the depression,
Man who sold Lizzie to me cried real tears,
I’ve remembered that through the years.

Many a mile she has rolled us,
Through the desert in the dark of night,
Running hot and carrying water,
That was the way, all right.

To Grandmother’s house we drove,
Year after year on our two weeks free,
(But lucky I was to have a job),
While the babes slept sound in the leather back seat.

Oh, the memories we have on those sandy trips,
Exhausted from bouncing on rough roads,
Stopping and cranking and gassing up,
Hushing the girls with a comfort stop.

I stalled her in 1940, got a Chevy ’36,
But kept her like the good horse she is,
New paint, new oil, retired to show,
Come on, I’ll give you a whizz.


This is what my Dad might have written about his old Model T Ford.
Categories: gassing, car, character, memory,
Form: Light Verse

Premium Member A Dampening of Rage

rage
blood red
simmering
boiling over
insecure imbeciles off gassing pain

a fraternity of inbred hound dogs 
renting shepherds
flocks are lost
horror
death

soul
lingers
ghostly lights
clarion calls
the atomic spin of celestial night 

loss of foul ego conjoined particles 
wonder free falls
I less bliss
haunting
rite
Categories: gassing, introspection, life, loss
Form: Tetractys

The Funky Train 1

Marauding through the suburban
 Merry-go-rounding through the  city landscapes,
 Marauding through the city ghettos;
 Merry-go-rounding through the Metropolitan,
 Marauding through the city gates,
 Spluttering armoured tank roaring and rolling on
 reconnoitered,
 Mobilizing blazing mobile container lopped out of control,
 Revving monster enthroned as the villain of the road,
 Wailing ramshackle, the knackered one hell of a horse-power
 plodded on,
 All knee-jerk wounded out in roughly cut steel;
 More the crawling millipede, speeding on roughly curl ruin
 city,
 A tangy flaming yellow lorry burnt into bleeding hearse
 lorry;
 Virulent virus attacking circulatory fortresses,
 A living daylight nightmare dream haunting folks,
 
 As the devouring beast fumed and purred proudly,
 Off debris fragrance suspended in lasting pall
 Gassing leering leaded blanket of Carbon,
 Attacking painful and searing sore-blindness as a bat
 And daunting shedding deadly poisonous mournful flowing
 tears;
Categories: gassing, urbancity,
Form: Free verse

The Gulla Man Adventure

when I was young, my first boat was a whailer
going fishing to fripp hauling it by trailer
I stopped at Island Plaza, my boat I was a gassing
then the Gulla man asked me, while in passing

"youda mae goinda bat toe anggo strikking mon?

black man with gray hair and a gig in his hand
to go in my boat gigging is what he had demand
happy to have him never a prejedous bone I had
never gigged in day light, to learn I'd be glad

"youda bego down dat scrit da mon"

he had be drive out, to station creek
there were pelicans whose tummy held less than there beek
it was hard to see, it was a marshy maze
I was realy lost in a foggy haze

then in a small creek a little bigger than a brook
off the bow the Gulla man threw the hook
while the anchor set and I lit a cig
he started beating my boat with his gig

well I got his attention, by clearing my throat
and asked "what in the hell are you doing to my boat!"

"eyebe kull-pin de whompiss mon!"
"what?"
"eyebe kull-pin de whompiss mon!"

so with the Gulla man I didn't want to haggel
then I said "hey buddy can you call whompiss with my paddle?"
thinking about plan "A" but still on the limb
thought about takin Gulla man back where I found him

then I was a-mazed! about out of my skin
all around us we were surounded by a dozen dolfin
the water started to boil on top the fish appear
and the old Gulla man stabbed them with his spear

"Ibe gat shree I begit foe mon!"

2 or 3 at a time, bass, flounder, and trout
they were piled so high they started to fall out
with alot of fish, piled in a stack
when a dolfin got close Gulla man threw one back
well the boat was so full, high like a mound
so were the dolfin and they were no longer found

"gitbe dare gitbe dare!"

I was so amazed, never had such a thrill
I thanked the Gulla man all the way to the hill

"trit flider notak in megit may na churn be tak in da bass mon!"

so he kept the bass for his kids runnin about
and I got to keep all of the flounder and trout

by Capt Mike
Categories: gassing, adventureboat,
Form:

March and Fight

Mothers getting their breast cut off so they cant feed 
their children in need
of a natural right 
so i will march and fight
against apartheid 
throw away the suit and tie
lace up your boots and fight 
for a reason why
when we go to war we have no idea 
we been could of stopped north Korea
from polluting the airways with diarhea
and multiple gassing 
look around whats happening 
the core of our declaration of independence is cracking
our politics and governments are lacking 
chip your arm and they start tracking
id rather have my head cut off than to give that any backing
id rather hear the truth
than some gold toothed wanna be spit some garbage in the booth
between me and you i just want to hear whats true.
Categories: gassing, anti bullying, corruption, growth,
Form: Lyric

A Letter To My Friend - I

To my dearest dear…
We met a long time back
The day do you remember?
That was the day when I met you first time
Together we cracked japes and together we smiled
Since then you gave my life a song with rime.
Do you still remember the day….
When we shared our days agone
Buried under days for long
I felt upon your shoulder and you condole me with your gabbles
I smiled back and you felt my awes. 
Do you still remember those days…
Futile browsing and sashays
The weekend theaters and those daily affrays
Borrowing fictions and gassing at cafes
Oft visits and those duo contests.
Do you still remember those days….
Waiting for you at the footbridge
You came upon with a hug
And headed no-where
But that everyday city-centre. 
Do you still remember that day…
Out of the blue moon
You disappeared suddenly
I looked for you here and there
Months later you came upon with a sob story.
Do you still remember that day…
The new year’s first day
The game of four flush 
and the cheer up whisky glass.
Do you still remember that day…
The see off and my last hidden tears
The hokey talks and recollecting those days
We spent together.

I hope you still remember..
How much I miss you
I hope you still remember..
How much I care for you
I hope you still remember..
How I use to freak you
I hope you still remember..
Me as your pal
I hope you will remember..
These lines written for you today.
I will be waiting for you, a reply
Till then, I want to say you goodbye.
Your most dearest…..longed amigo. 






Please Note: This poem is dedicated to one of my best friend Sritama De.
Categories: gassing, art, dedication, friendship, love,
Form: Classicism

Liquid Candle

Liquid nitrogen is gassing through the wick.
Regulated just right slowly burning the wax,
Of the special candle stick.

But the Illusions looks like water burning.
Its harmless gas that is churning.
You can even light a match.
Don't worry about an explosion of a mess.

Water coming up from a candle stick, while the way slowly drips.
© Jack Reed  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: gassing, imagination, inspirational, passion
Form: Narrative
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