Best Hard Core Poems
Somewhere in the pretty petty imaginary illusion of delusion
There lies a truth an edifice of search between obtuse confusion
Windows like brick walls and concrete blocks birthing the light
Nails to be nailed screws to be screwed with monumental sight
A life a building fortress sand castle beach hut nutter’s dream
Maybe a prison with towers barbed wire fences mindful scream
Some multi storied paradise no choke on apple’s stem or core
No passion fruit in torture chambers shackles behind and to the fore
No hidden attic and no cellar no stellar fantasy no quick descent
For now simply one dimension deserted plain hopes to ferment
Scraping no skies a cave hovel card board box a bombed out grave
Nothing to hold onto no graces left spent and ravished naught to save
Is it magic thought provoked delusion of illusion alluded distortion
Who knows does it matter I suppose it does in incomplete reapportion
Some are born in a manger on the fields of labour some with a silver spoon
Surely some would rather have foundations a ceiling not some lonely moon
Get me not wrong as singing the praises of romantic poverty and dearth
Icy cold and freezing bones do not bear up to sound safe privilege in birth
Yet from the scraping nib and luxury of pen in hand and philosophic mind
Not wishing to lack compassion nor cementing over cracks so misaligned
We are the builders of our lives to some extent despite the vagaries so vast
Can we find a staircase upwards some sliding pole to reach out for the past
In such compassion regardless of painful structures and abandoned need
Is some notion some motion of change and nourishment star dust to feed
In God we trust nihilism architecture Karma fate Nirvana hard core grind?
No valid answers but questions loving search for quiet mindfulness in kind
When I first laid eyes on him, he was alone.
So very solitary, he was but a stone,
just lying there as if he had been thrown
carelessly to nothingness, a rock that had never shone.
A gem he could not be! He was the oddest thing I’d ever known.
A strange and simple stone beneath a barren tree -
a tree which offered no relief of a leafy canopy.
He’d lain there so long where there was no bird’s melody,
and since he had no eyes, there was nothing for him to see.
I bent and picked him up – this stone upon dry ground.
I took him with me, and I showed him all around!
Slowly I was cracking open this rock that made no sound.
In time, I noticed from inside him there emerged the sweetest glow.
I’d pierced the stone’s hard core like the arrow from a bow!
From what he used to be, the stone has now come far!
What he came to be for me I had never been foreshown.
But with some time and patience, I guessed the remedy.
How to open up the stone was the solution that I found.
In my cracking him, rare beauty I have come to know,
for inside the stone was waiting to be born – a shining star!
Feb. 22, 2018 for Gregory Barden's"MINUANETTA Contest using rhyme scheme
of (at least) AAAAA, BBBB, CCC, DD, E, ABCDE. It must have a least this many lines, (20)
Theme is "CHREMAMORPHISM"
Through lickings, like a Timex, my husband’s hard-core.
Evermore, heart ticking, he goes on.
They don’t make his model any more.
Not cut out for college, he gathered lore
in his craft; he learned it all, hands-on.
Through lickings, like a Timex, my husband’s hard core.
Into night he’d often work, his body sore,
developing both calluses and brawn.
They don’t make his model any more.
Once a fall from two floors up he bore!
Days later he was at his work by dawn.
Through lickings, like a Timex,my husband's hard-core.
Robbed and scammed; so much to abhor!
This self-made man felt like a woebegone.
They don’t make his model any more.
New trials that he never knew before
now face him, but he’s still a hanger-on.
Through lickings, like a Timex, my husband’s hard core.
They don’t make his model any more.
For the Anne's Favorite Poetry Form: Villanelle! (Any Subject)Poetry Contest
My name is abuse that is all I need to say
But just for your sake I will go on anyway.
I take pride in putting people in financial bind.
My favorite thing to do is to work on your mind.
I will destroy all you can be and make you believe that you deserve me.
After awhile you have no self-esteem left all you can comprehend
Are only the thoughts of suicide and death?
There is another part of me the physical side.
This something I have to be very cleaver on for this is very hard to hide.
I will take you from drinking soda out of mugs.
To entertainment by sniffing and using all hard-core drugs
I will take a beautiful woman and turn her into a punching bag.
When I am finished she will look like an old washed up hag.
Yes I can do all of this and yes I do mean to brag
I will turn faces all black and blue.
Oh look out I am going to get you too.
Oh no I’m not finished yet.
I can destroy your emotions too do you want to make a bet
I will take a confident man and turn him into a child playing in the sand.
The most pleasure I get is to destroy relationships, they no longer were a
wedding band.
When I am finished with you nothing will ever be the same.
You will always be keeping your guard up always being in shame.
I will take all your family love
Then turn it into hate to shove.
I love to destroy remember my name is abuse.
What form of pleasure do you want me to use?
I’ll be your.
Punk princess; who gets what she wants.
Dark angel; that dresses in dark clothes.
Juggalette; who will stand by her Juggalo.
Rebel; who don’t listen to any one, but you.
Angel; who lights you in the darkness.
Bella; who loves her Jacob.
Writer, who writes the words.
Hard core rocker; who rocks your world.
I’ll be the girl you want,
I’ll love you forever.
I love you
Traced backwards through dreams gone—
Saw a cobblestone path creasing palm of land
Slowly, images ripened beneath memory’s dawn
Faded, pattering feet stroking stone into sand.
2010.10.
NOTICE: I'd like hard-core critiques, please!
I don't look at the judge. I just look at the jury.
I don't look at the defendant or the defendant's attorney,
nor will I look a the prosecution assistant and or district attorney.
I will listen, not look at anyone giving sworn oath testimony.
As a juror I feel that it's my civic responsibility and duty
to decide strictly upon the evidence and not based on any ones appearance or personality.
My Justice is as blind as justice should be
not withstanding the decision that must be made beyond a reasonable doubt
based upon the hard core physical evidence presented to me that the judge will allow.
Every time I serve as juror, which believe it or not is an honor for me
I'm always dumbfounded by many other juror's stupidity
who are compelled to render this ultimate decision, Guilty or Not Guilty.
I wouldn't want 3/4's of the jurors I've met making such life changing decisions on me.
That's why I'll never turn down an opportunity to serve on a jury.
Everyone is Innocent until proved Guilty and all innocents need a juror like me.
When I informed a former boss that I was summoned to serve for jury duty,
my employer out right said, "Get out of it or you will no longer be employed by me."
Guess what I did. I served on the jury.
I'd rather lose my job, than risk someone who may otherwise be Not Guilty
losing much of their freedom and God given liberties.
*
Another personal note:
In Every Election I Vote.
*
"Dearly beloved, "We are gathered here today to witness,
The wickedness of these times."
"Blessed", fortunately, its ending soon."
To radio stations phone-it.
"Wait!, No!, Next month.
"Taking the kiddies fishing."
"Perhaps we should postpone it."
"Reminds me, of an ole story.
"My, dear neighbor, now long past away."
"Bought a two-thousand watt light bulb."
"Used it to clean the lint from his toe nail."
"Then handed it over to me."
"Which item?", he asks.
"The lint or the bulb?"
"That's for you to decide."
"For extra credit, predict when the bulb burns out."
How the truth sometimes hurts.
For he loves us, and we love Him.
Faithfully digesting a breakfast sermon
Hard garlic salami, and dried prunes.
Oh , dear Paul.
Why was Moses punished?
He loves us.
In spite of our gas masks.
Even blesses our vents.
Just look at me.
I,m sure we meet before.
I,m wearing the inspector Klusoe badge.
Hiding near the back row.
Wearing an "Eddie Haskell", smile.
No mask , though, I,m tough.
I sure would like to tattle, on that darn kid.
Carefully rolling his perfect round gum wad.
Leaving it at the front door.
Tattle on that old fogy.
Hiding a re-cycled stogy.
Near the front bush.
About anybody unannounced,
Can bounce-in, these days!
Hard-core corporate sinners.
Hard working, making this world better?
With what thanks?
To greet the other side in hell?
If we don,t get to them.
Perhaps us as well.
Without Grace.
Sure would like to tattle,
On those arriving at the last minute.
Budgeting time, to edit a grocery list.
Tattle?, to Who?
Tattle on ladies, so easily upset.
If the closing clock, past noon strikes.
They must sell powerfully minted cookies.
Serving such a needed feast.
Considering whats for breakfast.
Dear Jesus, can you explain?
Why you cursed the fig branch?
So Our sports fans can understand?
Boy would I ever like to tattle,
On that little, freckled faced girl.
Sneaking in her kitten.
Us listening, to penetrating competitive "Meows."
"We are the cats meow."
"Not hippo-critters."
So please join Us.
123 altogether sing.
"We love Him."
"We love them."
They love Us."
"Love"," one-another."
Sounds absolutely crazy, doesn't it?
Public Convenience
A war ‘nowhere near me’ is a concept that does not exist
an oxymoron so to speak and weep and cry or believe
propaganda for the convenience of denying responsibility
Wars allegedly ‘afar’ is a notion too far removed from the
distortion that you and I do not benefit from the slaughter
as the wealth of some is built on the shoulders of many
who suffer for global greed oil exploitation geopolitical
domination for booming stock markets and neoliberal evil
Call me touchy feely or a pacifist to discredit my knowledge
but my paradigm is one of hard core sober fact that in my
name and without my direct consent rape pillage and plunder
deface the human condition and legalize collateral damage
What a euphemism to ask me to close my eyes in view of
pulverised people atomised ashes and call them not near
Rapacious avarice or conscientious objection to misleading
terms and diminutive are a choice very close to my heart
20th May 2017
Clinton on steroids—Fiornina
She shreds truth like a hyena
Let's make the world right
No—she’d much rather fight
As the killer in the arena
Can Hillary have the right stuff?
She couches words not a tight m*ff
If her clothes be stripped
See the mummy from the crypt
Quite rough to see her in the buff
For billionaires—Super PACS pander
Their “MO” is to ooze slander
So join with Bernie
Sanders' great journey
Since he's Mr. ethics and candor
Author's Note: There are two women running for the 2016 White House. I only wish that there was a more qualified woman running for whom I could vote--like Elizabeth Warren. This past Friday I went into Manhattan and saw Bernie Sanders speak. Recently, he spoke at Liberty University, and the event is searchable. BTW, I see Hillary and Carly as sisters in deceit. There is something very wrong with the body language, speech and ideas of each. They both are owned by big money. My apologies to the hard core supporters of these two beastly hypocrites.
I'll have to put off writing my bio because there's something I'd like to ask of you soupers...:)
You might have already seen the notice beneath a few of my recent poems, but I'll post the
same content here:
I'd really appreciate it if you could give me some really hard-core critical feedback on my
writing. The people on this site are so nice and their comments always give me such
encouragement, but I would love some critical comments as well.
Hope this isn't me being too greedy ;)
Will count on you all!
-G
Just the awe of your charismatic sexual looks makes
the down part of me wanting to possess
and build a park beneath your fleshy covering.
My Junior’s ready to let your licks spoil nature’s tricks
and your play, be an impurity to such a serious intensity.
Even when my battery runs down, I’ll drain all the decency left in you
through the escapades of erotic mechanics and love making drills.
I want to pull your underwear and bring down those hidden strings;
I want to fly that suspicious top and raise the supports of your skirt
while your inviting bra becomes openly hopeless under my command.
I want to prickle your skin gradually from neck to your secret bifurcation
while my moving tongue with great incontinence
dances through your inside, rendering the formality
of your honourable body into serious jeopardy.
Your gradual lustful conformity to my passionate physical cravings
raises blood levels to a peak giants cannot handle.
The spread of your two legs, causes the springing of my third one,
nothing then can unglue me from the down side of you
and such a rare side you possess
speaks volume of the attractive value of sex teases.
Your dancing breasts, horizontally springing body
and sensual-sound making tender lips combined,
gives a private show in complete entrapment of magic and divinity.
Screams and unholy inter-plays, revolving in one cycle
centered by paradise’s gate of which its heavy locks are
broken by such a melting act.
Letting my small head be the executive chair
to your well spread bare buttocks
powered by a mood so classified and irreversibly hormonal
begins the event already at its midpoint,
causing the rainbow to be low-esteemed in colours and in pride.
Dear Lady Liberty get down with the modern times,
Are we not the land of freedom, let the new rheum
Fill your scents, and let us all rock on!
The world is spinning with a harder edge beat, and
We as Americans thrive on its high power over drive,
The bigger the challenge the smoother the rolling stone!
These times here are rough they say, but a nation born
From this tough working class, just grins deeper, and sings
Louder our praise for the red, white and blues!
Toils tears are soaked within our Levi grains, as we play,
Born in the U.S.A. on those sacred radio waves!
Give me Liberty or give me death, is a history phrase,
We still believe in today, as the rocks blare and burst
Against the nights sky on the fourth of July, and in the
Back ground sound it’s not just noise, but it’s us American’s
Getting it down!
Blaze forever onwards slamming it ever onwards, the rhythm
Of the people, for the people of this nation of Rock and Rollers,
Die hard individuals that make this land worth living for, working for,
And believing in, the message lives on in our words of lyrical pride!
Sun down you better take care, for foreign invader better beware,
For we are the generation of Mr. Lightfoot, and here we don’t
Play fair!
Brothers and sisters gather beneath our flag of honor,
Blessed by God, in fortunes favor, let the golden eagle
Soar forever free above this nation Gathered together
In liberty, and justice for all!
Let the storms rage be as a thundering bolts reckoning,
We are the strong, the people of pioneering generations,
The enduring, the surviving, so just bring it on we’re
Ready for the fight, as we rock the night with our
Torches lit bright, for we are the Americans, standing
Tall and proud!
So let us rock forever, join in the hard core beat,
Can’t you feel those good vibrations, chiming from
That cracked bell, it echoes down those majestic mountains,
Across those amber waves of grain, behold the ties that
Bind us together in a timeless rheum, of humanities
Brotherhood!
Dear Lady Liberty get down with the modern times,
Are we not the land of freedom, let the new rheum
Fill your scents, and let us all rock on!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
My Family
Peeping into past
my reminiscence as child
displays dark shadow.
Mom’s loud negligence
biased treat on my daily need
pricked my self- esteem.
But I was the pearl
of my Dad’s hard core heart.
Grandma bestowed care.
A girl needs her Mom.
Painful childhood wept and wept
being deep deprived.
A lone fighter fought
to get herself established
on satisfaction.
Got fair scope to build
my own family yielding
all treasures of heart.
Two brave brilliant
daughters were blessed by God.
I showed light to them.
They reached their goals
now having own families.
I travel alone.
05/05/16
Haiku on " My Family ' contest
Sponsor marvin celestial
Sad people don't sing
I thought they were the ones who sang
They sung the blues
Some sing pity-party blues, and
lure others to join in
But silence is a song
I've heard it sung in my sanctuary blue
Men in deep navy blue sang it, too
I watched them with their slain crew
A mighty throng stood strong
Their slain; heroes all along
Sad people don't sing
They'll speak to you in tongues
Make no excuse for tools you use
We guard what's left of our sanity
Freedom's state of mind is for everyone to find
Sad people don't sing
They'll declare your honey, lemon
They will obsess with what they won't fathom
Some wallow, word for word, groaning
The ground they stand on is quick silvery light
Too light for their mood; they'll have party blues
On hard-core land with a mule
Not so fast! Pity-party blues must last
Blue sea and blues melody
Is this your story, your song?
Sad people don't sing
They think the enemy is man?
*