Best Heckling Poems
Scarecrow’s tattered clothes
Clever birds are never fooled
Sit defiantly
Arms of hay hold heckling birds
Eating the last grains of corn
Nature’s curtain falls
Vibrant leaves make no encore
Tumble to damp soil
Yellows and reds turn to brown
Trees’ skeletal limbs shudder
Fall’s first kiss of frost
Invades farmer’s pumpkin patch
Hardy fruit withstands
Trick-or-treaters carve faces
Jack-o-lanterns light doorsteps
Categories:
heckling, seasons
Form:
Tanka
my husband and I used to argue
weeks after a verbal agreement should have been over
we were silly about it
heckling and harassing each other
over things that do not matter
ridiculously egging and goading
my husband told me a story about a soldier
the soldier kept beating his horse after it had died
his commanding officer said “the horse is dead, dismount”.
now when the argument reaches a silly stage
one of us yells “the horse is dead, dismount”
this has worked to end our idiocy for the last fifty years.
Categories:
heckling, me,
Form:
Free verse
Along the mountain pine valley did the Iron Horse roar,
A steam belching black demon, burning red hot coals
Within it's steel belly.
Speed's hell bound creation, driven by greed's insatiable hunger,
Faster, faster it moves at acceleration rush, to
Achieve manifest destiny's final arrival on time.
In the distance hear another lone whistle blow, spitting,
And spewing with brimstone's gray smoke.
This indeed is the devil's train, carrying the forsaken,
To the depot of no return.
With a half empty payload aboard, Satan makes a deadly
Judgment call, stoke up those engines boys, ramming
Speed if you please.
Made man beasts are these mechanical monsters
Of destructions, lethal death weapons, chained
Down to the steel rails, and iron pikes.
Ebony stallion's racing against the winds,
As redden sparks sizzle and bite at the crisp autumn
Air, bellowing fumes poisoning the night.
The engineer of the 10; 15 out of Tombstone,
Checked his pocket watch, speaking impatiently,
He did so yell out, come along fellow's, we have a
Schedule to keep, and we've hours behind in our dead line,
So let’s pick up the pace.
Now the devil's train came out of know where,
With hell's supernatural master at the wheel,
Heckling, and laughing, relishing in the carnage’s
Utter calamity to come.
On a lone chewed up mangled piece of track,
Lies wreckages debris blood, flesh and twisted metal,
Lain stewned for miles beside the wild wilderness.
Broken bones, and sheared off limbs, weeping mother's
Cradling limp, lifeless bodies, crying why, God almighty
Why?
But the lord and heavenly father, had nothing to do,
With this unnatural disaster, nay the devil had many
Empty spaces to fill, and his passengers list was lean.
So he leveled the crimson ground with his dark gavel,
Taking souls at high velocities supernatural speed,
For this is the devil's ghost train, and it is so
Hell bound.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Categories:
heckling, adventure, america, fantasy, halloween,
Form:
Free verse
There's one who acts like a righteous queen
Prattling peacock, she loves to pose and preen
She is surly and gruff
Heckling slurs with a huff
And denouncing the life-saving vaccine
The haughty queen is quite aloof
and sometimes she acts like a goof
Should she be on trial
For covid denial
Believe me, I’ve seen lots of proof
She's favored by one, her Prince Demonic
He bows to her highness, Queen Sardonic
Praising her fortitude
Conspiring to collude
Feeding her compliments that are moronic
Her majesty thinks she was perfect at birth
Pompously aggrandizing her self worth
It's tritely ironic
Her hubris is chronic
She's filled with bitterness but little mirth
Prince Dom is seeking attention
Pining for the Queen’s affection
Their words are debunked
They both have been plunked
So much for the Queen’s perfection
The old Queen stood tall and haughty,
Gawking at me, judging me naughty.
Expected me to bow
And she called me a sow,
I refused, calling her throne a potty.
Anonymous PS poet
Our soups matriarch, started an almighty feud
By decreeing she's perfect, the queen of her brood
This flawless diamond
Reigns on Shutter Island
Even insane Leonardo's, pleading to be moved
Another anonymous ps poet
The queen poses behind a shadowy façade
Thinking she is perfect before Almighty God
Disgusting as a wicked witch
Cannot locate a worthy niche
Here among good poetry mortals of the sod.
Yet another anonymous ps poet
Jan Allison and Mark Koplin have joined me in this limerick collaboration. We're not telling who wrote which verse, but you're welcome to guess.
If anyone wishes to join in this collaboration, please send me your addition through soup mail.
Categories:
heckling, parody,
Form:
Limerick
“The Clock on the Wall”
That clock! The clock with cruelty, unmovable.
Telling time to be forever in motion.
The ticking, a deafening sound.
Marked by grime.
Yellowed by generations, grown digital.
By generations choosing to be illiterate.
The face, weathered from gazing faces…from faces.
Forever burdened by the echo.
TOCK!
Each minute, reversing youth.
Spinning hours that grin madly at the crows.
Birds destined to stomp divots into flesh.
Surrounding lids and lashes.
TICK-TOCK!
That hellish clock.
Stealing jewelry and lovers and future plans
Dreams given up in anguish to dead time, in the night.
The second hand, proud, purposeful.
Its movement pushing the aged into graves.
Eternally passing hours.
Laughing wildly at years gone by.
Heckling decades…lost.
TICK, TICK!
The ticking of that god-damned clock!
Mocking the genius gone mad.
A shocking reminder of all that is forgotten.
That all will be…forgotten.
The unforgiving clock.
Moving time.
Time, a father, whose knee will be outgrown.
A chastising father.
Protecting nothing.
Holding nothing.
Nothing calm.
Holding nothing safe.
Nothing still.
Curse that clock on the wall.
On walls dropping picture frames.
Loosened by rusty nails.
Images of families smothered in broken glass.
The clock.
TICK-TOCK!
Burning down homes that cradled infants.
With fatty folds and creamy dreams.
The clock, convincing people to set alarms.
Convincing people to startle the soul…
Into a brand-new day.
Categories:
heckling, analogy, angst, change, metaphor,
Form:
Free verse
Aint nothing in life so weak and parasitic
As the smug self-delusional heckling critic
Sick with repressed envy and a manner most vile
He slithers to his seat to vent his acrid bile
Bereft of any talent to do anything himself
Can't wait to put the boot into everybody else
Can't act, can't dance, can't sing, can't play
Wouldn't have the nuts to get up on stage anyway
Sad man, sad man, silly little sad man.
Really rates himself as a man who knows his stuff
Mouthing well-used insults (too dumb for off-the-cuff)
When you're up there playing he'll inevitably try
To portray mock disdain if you ever catch his eye
So pay no mind to this impotent imbecile
Who follows his calling with unrelenting zeal
No wit, no style, no clout, no class
The turgid remains of a charisma bypass
Sad man, sad man, pity for the sad man.
Like a keyboard warrior, an internet troll
Loves it when his barbs hit an unsuspecting goal
And if you ever flinch, he's got you mind and soul
Thinks this master of the moment the ninja in control
Next time I'm performing I pray that he will show
I'll come on all guns blazing, and hope he has a go
This piteous mug who'll dismiss me with a sneer
Chuckling with his cronies at how bad I've been up here
On social media you can bet he'll go to town
Spewing forth his venom as he tries to put me down
No joy, no smile, no love, no praise
A pitiful indictment of his hollow darklit days.
Sad man, sad man, silly little sad man.
Categories:
heckling,
Form:
Didactic
DR. JAKAL AND MR. HYDE
Science verses madness, welcome Dr. Jackal meet Mr. Hyde,
Within all mankind a darker side exists, it is the beast,
Teetering on the brink of being released at any time.
Hatred’s malcontent, our inner basic instinct prowling, in
Our darkest part of the soul of humanity.
A madman’s obsession to gain control of his darker side,
Experiments in places where thou’est should not dare go,
Making judgments only left unto a higher powers call.
In a hidden laboratory, beneath the darkened streets of London,
A scientist crosses a fine thin line between the conscious. And
Unconscious mind, splitting his spiritual soul in two, releasing the
Beast from within himself, behold Mr. Hyde, heckling, screaming,
Into the darkness of the night, I’m free at last.
In shadows hollows he lurks, waiting to prey on the innocent,
Unaware of his malevolent presence, a black bag tucked under
This creature of the inhumane picks his victim with sheer disdain.
Luring them with silver flashing coins of promise, he kills without
Hesitations malice, relishing in their screams of tortures monumental
Torment.
But the manufactured poison, wears thin, and the Dr. Jackal, personality,
Chimes in again, and realizes what his alter ego has done, but it is too late,
To save the innocent from death’s final demise, so he flees the scene,
Escaping into the night’s shroud.
Never again Dr. Jackal vows, will I release this inner demon, yet
Hyde will not be denied, I will take power again.
Dark and light battle within one beings soul, until the eclipse of one nights full
Moon descends, and Dr. Jackal faces Mr. Hyde at last, ending his own life!
But in hell’s final crescendo, whom truly has lost the battle for existence,
The Man or monster.
Heaven only knows the truth on such matters; I’m just a lone mourner,
At a madman’s funeral, and shall I place two roses upon his grave, one
Of ebony black Mr. Hyde, and one white for my dear friend Dr. Jackal.
Farewell my friends, may you both find some kind of peace on the other
Side, he left a note with these budding gifts, and it was so signed
Sincerely the man dressed in black.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Categories:
heckling, adventure, conflict, dark, evil,
Form:
Free verse
THE CLOWN
The entire world loves a clown,
But wait until they get a load of me,
Is what the faceless figure under the mask
Says, heckling with laughter's haunting zeal.
After the lights of the midway fade, and the
Crowd's confetti is swept away, it is my turn
To play!
Sedition's malevolent being, lies hidden beneath
A painted on smile, I'm the devil incarnate,
So come along child of innocence, and we'll
Have a bloody, ghouling good time, just you
And I!
Many props of fun time’s torture, do I possess,
Chose which of these that you think is the best,
I'm not picky in the least, my new playmate.
Beneath the crimson big top, of fleshes canvas,
I'll put on a special show just for thee,
So save your screaming applause, until
After I'm finished if you so please!
All whom wish to join in my private
Carnival of fiendish delight, I welcome
Wholeheartedly, come young or old,
But beware none shall leave alive,
Or without missing a limb, maybe two.
Here comes my brethren in their tiny
Little hearse, did you think I'd not
Invite my kindred on such a special
Event like this.
Nay they've brought their own weapons,
Hatchets, machetes, and wonderful
Instruments as such, why do you look
So frightened, it won't hurt ####, that much.
Now some may say I'm a creature of
Darkness, an evil being without remorse.
But really under white face's make-up,
I'm just your average serial killer at heart.
Whom is quit creative, in the forgotten dark arts,
Of tortures insidious behavior.
So next time the circus comes to your small
Town remember, just hang around after the
Crowds leave the midway, don't worry
My friend, for I'll be hanging around just
Waiting for you, no special invite needed.
Signed sincerely, your friend the clown.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Categories:
heckling, dark, evil, fear, halloween,
Form:
Free verse
Legends speak of banshees of the blue briny deep, whom cast bewitching
Spells mesmerizing voice and song, beware youthful mariner for charms echoing
Beauty, may cause deceptions fall from grace, nay naivety’s innocence
Attracts creatures of passions folly!
In the Grecian headwaters of historical mystery, these damsels of seduction
Parlous feast on the souls of wayward men, who’s lustful desires are never
Satisfied by honest women of proper barring, or noble birth!
Blue eyed vixens with erotic convictions, are more to the liking of well
Traveled men of ill reputes fashion, yet these lashes lusts are only
After the flesh, bone and tasty marrow of the living, their bonus
Is deserts just reward, thy very soul’s possession!
Oh mother dearest, protect he the lads whom seek fortunes
Favors by sails cast unto destiny’s distant shores, for beyond
Lies the forbidden isles of temptation fiery, and none return
From the aquatic wilderness alive or whole again!
Mer-gypies nomadic beasts of reflected images of beauty,
Clinging unto the rocky craggy shores beguiling the unwary
Sailor, weaving enchantment’s enticing allure with promises
Of pleasures beyond the mortal experience!
Intensity’s emerald spheres pierce through the night, these
Seekers of vulnerability’s sinful, prayer by the light of the full
Moons illumination, that at sunsets rise no man or kindred’s
Son, has gone missing beneath twilights mystical essence,
Thus so be advised he must be lost at sea, is all that is said,
To a broken hearted mother, and a sweet darling left behind!
Cast off the docks of forget-me-knots remembrance, petals
Of sorrows tears, rose colored floating diamonds shed by
Longings embrace never to be fulfilled!
On isolation’s distant beach the jackals gather in a
Heckling breach delighting amongst the spoils of a
Crimson feast, singing the voyagers swan song,
Unto the cast a ways vanquished soul!
Legends speak of banshees of the blue briny deep, whom cast bewitching
Spells mesmerizing voice and song, beware youthful mariner for charms echoing
Beauty, may cause deceptions fall from grace, nay naivety’s innocence
Attracts creatures of passions folly!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Categories:
heckling, adventure, fantasy, imagery, imagination,
Form:
Free verse
In the boxed gilded frame exists the residue of
A painter’s vision, of his nightmare placed upon
Canvas.
Locked within the cells of four square,
Lies a view into the ethereal world beyond our
Conscious mind.
A heckling demon does laugh, as she the white
Gowned maiden of innocence lies slain, as her bloods
Warmth slips silently away, and life's flash memory,
Closes around her for the last time.
Hear the thundering sounding. From the heavy laden hooves,
As hell's white steed, claims the vanquished heart of
The innocent, and riding unto the gates of black ebony,
He does so bare a rare prize, the soul of purist beauty.
Oh so do the angels cry in heaven, weeping in tandem's chorus.
For death's fallen will know the torments hidden in
The mighty halls of hell's keep, for dark has over come
The light, and at its flickering the last hope of mankind,
Has become one of the shunned.
Seductions father of evil, takes the white hands of
The maiden of innocence, for one last waltz, as life leaves
Her damaged shell, behind a phantom spirit of betrayal,
Is left at the threshold of the forgotten, and salvation's door
Slams shut unto her; she is suicide's victim of the broken
Hearted, never to know the taste of Eden, or to see the glory
Of Gods kingdom beyond.
Nipping beneath the ladies gown of white, the demon
Chastises her, belittling a life so sacrificed for what
He does so scold; it is a minor thing, this emotion called love.
Tears fall, be you so quiet, demon, I've suffered enough, but he
Is the hell's jackal, and is her greatest tormentor.
Awaken painter, she pleads from the ethereal realm,
In sweats uneasy slumber, but the artist shields his eyes to late,
And he has seen too much, for a mortal to so easily forget.
Upon the canvas is a dreams vision,
And trapped within, is she the soul of innocence,
Forever encased within this prison, a
Painter's revelation, called the portrait of a
Nightmare.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Categories:
heckling, halloween, history, holiday, horror,
Form:
Free verse
The dream illusionist, nightmares grand master,
For fantasy and horror.
Terror's unholiest jack of all murderers, a beast unleashed
From the nether worlds darkest depths,
Beyond the gates of hell itself!
A twisted slasher, whom lightly taps, taps at realities
Window pain, waiting to be allowed entrance, unto
The realm of your unholiest of fears.
Count your children of Elm Street, beware stay awake
At all cost, for your own sanity's sake at least!.
For if you were born on Freddy’s private hunting grounds,
No soul escapes alive or unscathed!
The predator to pray ratio, lies not in your favor,
For survival don't go to sleep my friend.
Tilting his hat, this the gentleman night stalker,
Laughs with a jackals heckling, as he grins,
With devilish delight, relishing the taste of fears
Intensity, creating a heightened sense of
Exhilaration.
Thrilling this demon dressed in red and green
Stripes, to his skeletal funny bone.
Urban legends boogeyman, whom defies
The angel of death the right to claim
His mortal soul, just go ahead jack,
Do you feel lucky or what!
Who wants a pink Cadillac, not Mr. Kruger,
Crimson red is more his styles preference,
Trunk wise it's more spacious,
Then a grave sites junk yard!
Springfield's ice cream man is cruising,
Along his old haunts again,
Anyone for a double scoop of Freddy’s
Special blend, no to each their own
I guess.
Now it's time to play, the Elm Street
Lullaby, now I lay thee down to sleep,
I pray the lord my soul to keep,
But if by chance I dare not wake,
Oh God above, don't allow Freddy to take,
That which belongs unto heaven
And thine above,
Please I beg of thee!!!!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Categories:
heckling, fear, halloween, history, holiday,
Form:
Free verse
THE HAUNTING
Entombed behind isolation's walled prison, a haunting
Malice has so trapped me within, evils chamber of the forsaken.
It crouches beneath shadows shroud, its leering eyes pierce,
Through the darkness’s pitch black covenant of the night.
A pacing beast, anticipating my movements, mocking my
Feeble attempts to evade this frenzy's tormentor of darkness.
Deceptions deceiver, silver tongued weaver, spewing lies
Deceit, intricately aligning its widow makers webbing,
Feasting on innocence betrayal.
Heckling laughter echoes against dead reckoning, a chilling
Appetizer is my soul of innocence, as if pleased at malice's intent,
Fiendishly, delighting in torturing its human pet.
A vacant numbing feeling over comes reasoning,
A deeper anger begins to rage, rebelling against hatred's
Horrifying entity.
Motivated to survive beyond my spectral captivity,
Hear me disgusting creature, I shall destroy thee,
Leave me alone screaming aloud, sanity's domain gives way.
In musty halls empty hollows, an odorous stench fills mine senses,
It speaks unto me, cease mortal miscreant, none leave here alive.
A deepening realization rushes against the conscious mind,
I'm deaths play thing, to be pounced upon, a toy mouse, captured
Between claws, extracting, retracting at whims invoking.
Invisible hands grasp, choking life's breath away from me,
Feeling every heartbeat slowing, quietly ceasing.
A stinging pain rings within my ears; death has claimed me at last.
Oblivion's muted dead, never part shall we, my lips are so tightly closed,
I can't scream with horror's terror anymore.
Let mercy's fallen be forgiven, released from beyond hells hidden
Regions a place devoid of spiritual salvation, foul demonic spirit
Haunting madman's kingdom, it whispers to me in sweet melodies
Aftershock, now we begin!
You truly belong to me, with satisfactions grimace, the creature smiles
At my deadened corpse, with satisfactions pleasure, the jackal reveals
Itself unto me, the demon himself, called the devil, thus stands before me,
And now I know the shattering truth, I am the forsaken.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Categories:
heckling, dark, evil, fantasy, gothic,
Form:
Free verse
On one side
of the frothy banks of the mind,
is the river of endless death.
With its eddies of blood
heckling swirls of hopelessness.
Everyday peck-pecking- away,
Until there's no trace of what you were
or what you could have been.
Only black wreathed moles carrying the soul...
into the deepest black hole of night.
On the other side
of the frothy banks of the mind
a pearly river of life.
With its swirls of hope
eddies of love and light.
Everyday an endless golden array
of heartwarming sprays.
Lifting the mind into God woven skies.
The birthstones of cherubs filling in potholes
of sunken lives.
On either side of the frothy banks of the mind:
a river of death
a river of life.
Categories:
heckling, conflict, life,
Form:
Rhyme
The ground gaped garishly, gored with ghastly gouges of glowing, gravelly gobs ...
Finally unfettered from a frigid firmament, flames flung fiery, flaring fingers
ferociously forward ...
The blazing bastions bent on burning the backwood bluffs bare with bitter brutality ...
Unholy hoards of heated horror hailing the heavens with heinous, heckling howls of
hellish hostility.
Categories:
heckling, fire, hero, nature,
Form:
Alliteration
Oh lord hear the lonesome cowboys lullaby, singing beneath
The vast prairie open sky.
Hush, do they not lull the restless cattle to sleep, by a soft
Undertones sweet melody.
Drifting plains men, singing of the sorrows broken hearted,
And dreaming visions of their beloved, they've left behind.
Guitar strumming minstrels, of the fire hearth, accented
By the lone harmonica, playing off in the distance
Amongst a sea of cows, and horses.
In harmonic rhythm is this grassroots orchestra, as the fiddler
Strikes up his bow to join in, and playing ever so gently along,
To harmony's rhythm.
On the rocky cliffs mixed in the sandy dunes, the heckling
Coyotes, give an eerie ambiance, to this old western chorus.
Do these desert whyly creatures, howl in perfections tune,
To the wrangler's musical beat, of these wide grassy expanses,
That they all call home.
The rattler shakes it's tail in defiance, against the munching
Prairie dog, whom got away at the last moment.
Listen closely to the sounds of the meadow-lands, does not the crickets,
And locusts, add a natural flavor by their clicking and chirping.
Near the rivers stream, as the winds do blow, along the waters edge,
Another elements assent, is bestowed by the forcing of the reeds, to
Bend hitting them against the hollow log, causing a thumping's,
Drumming, to this uniquest of bands.
As twilight's distant starlight, flickering in the vast
Blackness above, these rambling souls whom wander so.
Down these dusty trails long journey, yearn for nothing
More than to know the quite serenity, of their home
That seems so far away.
Let your music fill your emptiness, for one nights
Beautiful dream, and remember the memory as if it
Were real, a vivid vision of illusion, and rest
In complete bliss, good night my young
Cowboy of the open sky.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Categories:
heckling, history, imagination, inspirational, international,
Form:
Free verse