Best Histrionic Poems
'Twas a dark and stormy night! (OK - so I'm being a tad histrionic!)
The Earl of Pence was lounging by the fire sipping his gin and tonic.
Lightning flashed and thunder roared sending shivers down his spine.
Even his hound, Lord Percival, was so upset that he began to whine!
'Twas well-known thereabouts that phantoms haunted the earl's castle,
And on such frightful nights they were bound to cause a spooky hassle.
Nefarious deeds had occurred within Penceshire Castle walls in the past,
And were replayed in 'spirited' form leaving generations of earls aghast!
A shriek from the bowels of the castle sent the dog into howling fits,
And brought the earl bounding to his feet, scaring him out of his wits!
The blood-curdling screams were from a former Earl of Pence who in 1642,
Was hung by his thumbs in the dungeon for a fair maiden that he slew!
Suddenly, the ancient organ in the hall began playing eerie chords.
Heard on the floor above was rowdy dancing by ladies, knights and lords.
Ghastly emanations from the past paraded through the terrified earl's room,
Antecedents all, leering and grinning and predicting the anxious earl's doom!
Lord Percival sensing trouble long before, across the moat had bolted!
The storm subsided and the apparitions faded leaving the earl quite jolted!
He felt a bony hand upon his shoulder that took away his final breath.
'Twas his valet who offered a gin and tonic to the earl who now lay in death!
Oh the humanity
the humanity
Oh spare me the grief
thy fake tears
woe is me, mentality
syrupy behaviour
Munchausen propensity
it sticks between my teeth
Oh spare me the pathos
ham acting baloney
Phoney and pathetic
pennyroyal tea fatigue
Histrionic vagaries
self righteous piety
Oh spare me the maudlin
attention seeking thievery
Drowning in poignancy
sentimental molasses
Throw yourself to the floor
overdosing in twee
Oh spare me forever
stomach churning violins
emotional instability
Wallowing in saccharine
exaggerated sob stories
But most of all
the absence of apology
Sentimentality Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Julia Ward
25/05/22
Oh I'm sorry I didn't get it,
not to worry I won't forget it.
In order to win, it's not the contest,
but rather the spin. The more stupid
the parameters, the more ignoresponses
from amateurs. The more moronic the
directions, the more sophomoric
the reactions. Could u b more
histrionic in your language
glucolic, never ending of cliché
pre ponderunceses of innane
uninteresting plainjane, U r a poet because u
have PAID the big $$$ dues and have special
powers of words/phrase lifeology. All will be yours
in member recognition, regardless of yr ignonill offerings
according to this site NOTALENTU.
True is the phrase you
really do get what u pay for. (Please don't end a sentence
with a preposition?)
Real words, dimensions come from a place within;
deep, dank, dark non existant and incoporeal of anything reality based.
U can't pull emo tensions off the top like adding cream
to yr coffee. Poetry is a gutterial personification of the fecal life
that inhabited u as an earthling offspring not chosen
to a family of illgotten gain origin. Given the noncapacity to provide the common
requirements for sociosill survival.
All of u can smooch my **** premise, bend over to shake my
gonadal good interntions as u pissprose praise one another
each other as OMG, yr choice of emotional integrity resonates with my
soulful intent to do better in the world. Throw up here. Vomit
victims filled remorse and no coital containment
u must be kidding when u set up these contests and yr stupid
rules that only u r to privy. To make yrself look literate above all others.
U stink like a skunk that is dead in a trunk. Oh the stinch
is so much that my nose I must pinch. Get off yr high
horse and get with the crowd, as yr present purpose I must protest
to LOUD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Write what u feel and For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge
forget the rest. Bend over.
From my alarm's first beckoning
until that first Venti Columbian at Starbuck's,
I knew the day could be filled with stress.
There was an endless Leadership Staff
meeting where Hanrahan imposed his
histrionic will on all the less gifted there.
Basically, everyone.
Hanrahan saw to it that leadership staff
only addressed 4 of the 13
items on the agenda.
Perhaps because the final 5 items
on that agenda had to do with
improprieties in Hanrahan's work group!
I survived the morning to woof down
a deli sandwich and another
Venti Columbian Starbuck's. (Two bad
accidents at intersections on
the way to the deli.) They skimped
on the spicy mayo! I ate it anyway,
hearing echoes of Hanrahan advising
everyone to watch the Democratic debate.
"We need Hillary or Bernie, people!"
And me, a registered Republican. I'd rather
visit those two in a federal lockup
than hurl watching them lie on CNN.
"About votes and legalizing 'hippy lettuce'
I surmised.
Returning to work I was summoned to
the HR office. "Could you and Brandt
help with Vista Team for a while?"
Hanrahan was being terminated as
we spoke. "Be glad to help with Vista
Team, folks. I might even watch the
Democratic debate tonight!"
Hanrahan will have plenty of time to.
If I had been a Liberal about them I could
have begged, "My kingdom for a Xanax."
But, I am saved. Brandt is heading to the
deli for a late lunch. I give him a sawbuck,
tell him to have a sandwich, and P_L_E_A_S_E,
bring a Venti Columbian Starbuck's, dark and rich.
Just another day in the trenches.
Attention seeker
Peforms for the audience
Craving accolades
You, trickster, you
Thinking you could play me for a fool
But I know this game better than you
And ‘I told you so’ only goes so far
Words only mean so much
And you’re full of them
I see through every one of your crosses and loops
Oh, but I cover mine up so well
No erase marks, no open tops
Just like the word was never there
You think you know all the rules
Well I bend them until I snap
That’s how I get away with it
But it doesn’t work for you, now does it?
You snap before you bend-
That’s how you give yourself away
You’ll never learn if you haven’t already
Seen what I’ve seen:
A neurotic
Paranoid
Narcissistic
Histrionic
Hypochondriac
But who’s to blame? It’s learned behavior
Can we teach each other?
No-only influence
Just know, I have more ways around things
And do you care?
-None of us do
That is what makes us what we are
Creatures of habit; addicted to cycles
You say you’re in love sweetheart
Is that so?
You’ve told yourself this before, I’m sure
Only you can count the times you’ve been mistaken
Look at me-
Me and my naïve self
We are both projectors
Bedlam should be the place to be
But who am I kidding?
I’m a fool just as much as you
Tisk, tisk
Benzodiazepines only do so much
-Like words
But a little goes a long way, if you concentrate
However, a little extra goes further
Ha!
Just look at us-
We are beautiful, are we not?
Written April 4, 2011
'Twas a dark and stormy night! (OK! So I'm being a tad histrionic!)
The Earl of Pence was lounging by the fire sipping his gin and tonic.
Lightning flashed and thunder roared sending shivers down his spine!
Even his hound, Lord Percival, was so upset that he began to whine!
'Twas well-known thereabouts that phantoms haunted the earl's castle,
And on such frightful nights they were bound to cause spooky hassle!
Nefarious deeds had occurred within Penceford Castle walls in the past,
And were replayed in 'spirited' form leaving generations of earls aghast!
A shriek from the bowels of the castle sent the dog into howling fits,
And brought the earl bounding to his feet, scaring him out of his wits!
The blood-curdling screams were from a former Earl of Pence who in 1642,
Was hung by this thumbs in the dungeon for a fair maiden that he slew!
Suddenly, the ancient organ in the hall began playing eerie chords.
Heard on the floor above was rowdy dancing by ladies, knights and lords!
Ghastly emanations from the past paraded through the terrified earl's room,
Antecedents all, leering and grinning predicting the anxious earl's doom!
Lord Percival sensing trouble long before for the door had bolted!
The storm subsided and the apparitions faded leaving the earl quite jolted!
The earl felt a bony hand upon his shoulder that took away his final breath.
'Twas his valet who offered a gin and tonic to the earl who now lay in death!
Entry for Tania Kitchin's "One Night in A Haunted Manor" Contest
(8 January 2019)
By Mark Miller 11/08/2017
Play of conflict snare trauma
Beat's drum-head hold drama
Soulful histrionic perfection
Behind rear view devotion
Of hostel trap left hours and
Stricken rabble memoirs band
Vowing to love each other true
Punching in at chaotic shape hue
Disrobe a hate fueled romance
In a strange loop ignorance
Discovering our nothing invention
Meeting in chimneys label ashen
Starring below I send telegram
To agency Ground Control
Wonder why so many had to cry
I guess they never got to say goodbye
Well, the story got so sad
I just wanted to end it.
I found the words on a postcard,
but couldn't find the nerve to send it.
I'd mostly given up
on ever having another chance
and I got the impression
my efforts were just a waste of stamps.
You and I used to sit on the beach
with pens in our hands
writing postcards from paradise
to our families and friends.
I remember my good humor
and reading it out loud,
but I haven't felt too witty
for quite some time now.
Everything I write
comes out dark and histrionic;
every time I try to be positive
the page has no words on it.
I took a stroll through a graveyard
of the past and pending
tryin' to say my goodbyes,
but the memories are neverending.
There was a beautiful girl
who knew just what to say:
She said, "I see you're lost,
but I think I know the way."
I knew I was being poisoned
by your memory
and I was pining for your future
to finally send for me.
But the Devil's been my landlord
and the rent continues to increase
and I don't like my odds for survival
if I renew the lease.
The only way outta this place
is to leave your memory behind
and to create a new angel
to restore some peace of mind.
I was actually smiling
as I was led from the graveyard
cuz I knew it couldn't hurt any worse
if someone penetrated my scar.
I followed her to her bed
and stared into her eyes
and, at last, saw a reflection
I didn't despise.
Do you ever get the feeling ya being watched
Do you ever get to sleep if ya dream of demons creeping up
Do you measure yourself by the strength of your faith that you keep in god
Have you forgotten the meaning of what it is to be deep in love
Is it a problem it seems it's the meaning that you forgot
Should it be dropped are we even when my feelings turn mean and they erupt
Will we stop speaking for the reason we're feeling lost and lose feelings from not speaking yet keep strings with the feeling they're needing cut
Was feeling touched like I'm blessed but the feelings gone
Was being conned by the gods now I'm bleeding bronze
Staying tough wanting this honour to be enough
Seeing how cross I got yas the reason ya don't keep in touch
I'm seeing whats wrong with me frequently from these Ill stunts
Seeking out some help from the people who think I'm nuts
You think I've stopped, forgave and forgot but you forget I remember everything that we ever lost its what we had and we tossed I think about every day replaying it from the top wanting to stomp it out of my brain
It drives me insane look at the lunitic who's losing
his mind it's a shame
Man this isn't a game you'll find I'm playing but my chips are at stake
You needed me around so often so locked me in a prisoners cage until the building blocks of our foundations started splitting from weight
These dangerous grounds are quaking so now I'm drifting away
Because if I had stuck it out with you and things didn't change from laying a new foundation to begin again I'd be crazy I've seen the pain when it wasn't hidden away, stripped or reshaped and the holes you dug were escavated like you were digging our graves
Maybe one day you'll see it differently and see I didn't rejoice
I remember listening to you when you were different with me when I had an opinion to voice I know you'll think about it differently then clearly know I hadn't a choice because why should I be killed by something that I can not destroy.
You don't see me
As a woman
You only see me
As your prey
Your next meal
Seeking to devour me
With your razor sharp fangs
Superficially charming
But, I see through your facade
Your smoke and mirrors
Aren't fooling me
Salivating at the
Thought of making
Me your next victim
You feel Carnal desires
Burning inside you
Swelling up like
A tidal wave
Trying to make this
Surfer catch a ride
On your cryptic sailboat
In your sea of
Sacrificial lambs
Cruel deception
Pretty lies
Cool as an
Autumn breeze
With every single
Act of prevarication
That you commit
Shakespearean performances
In your presence
Acting out so many
Histrionic displays
Of drama to seduce
The gullible souls
Who want to understand you
So that you can exsert
Your dyspotic control
Over their lives
Enslaving them
Your narcissism
Prevents you from
Understanding the
Tears they cry
Because of your wrath
Monotone voice
No accentuation
No emphasis can
Be heard because
You don't mean
The words that
Leave your lips
A poker face
Lacking grace
Devoid of sincerity
Communication only
A tool to manipulate
How many books, songs, poems and movies have been created
on the supposition that love is complicated?
Within their writings flows this message…
sometimes histrionic…sometimes understated
that, if it’s simple…it can’t be love…because love is complicated.
Example after example is given to prove their point with certainty
but there are others of us out here who look at love and beg to disagree.
For us love is as simple as realizing we are not alone…
that someone else’s happiness is more important than our own.
There are those of us whose hearts and minds have joyfully come to see
it is life that can be complicated…
but love doesn’t have to be.
Where the floor meets the wall,
She stands in her usual spot,
Craving a cigarette,
Observing, processing, psycho-analyzing,
Another Saturday night with her friends.
Their forced civilized exchange of small talk,
Boasting, intellectual competitions and back handed compliments
Vainly covers the tension of secret love triangles,
Unspoken resentments, jealousies, and
Bruised egos until the alcohol takes effect and
people start going to the bathroom in groups.
That is when someone puts on jazz album,
And suggests a game which
brings out the "realness" in everyone:
They tell stories, make confessions,
Share moments of tenderness before
Declaring war
Shattering several expensive wine glasses and
Dissolving into fits of hysterical laughter or sobbing
Until
a fight is taken outside
a couple is having sex in the basement,
and someone is vomiting in the kitchen waste basket.
Except her,
Lightly buzzed by some cheap white box wine,
She will comfort and offer sage advice to
the histrionic and the clueless
which they will soon forget or dismiss.
Refill the pretzel and chip bowels,
Break up a fight between two romantic rivals,
Pour countless whiskey shots and shake 20 mean Vodka martinis,
Nurse the drunk and clean up the mess in the kitchen.
Years from now, these alleged group of friends will
Rewrite this night filled with fun and merriment
Where the drinks, drugs and conversation flowed,
and the fire never died,
While she will accurately recall every detail and wonder
Why she allowed this group of sparkling, beautiful, broken people
To cast her as their resident
Gopher
Maid
Bartender
Unpaid therapist
Keeper of secrets
Enabler…
What was her incentive or her reward?
Beyond their peripheral acceptance.
Ask Nothing of this World
What is this?
What sleek retribution is held within the
Slightest movement on the soil?
What slim issues stance is almost broken
In cadence and cascade?
Words shall leave the senses blind,
Enough, time will find a healing balm for
Eye to seize the day, when all in dreams must
Fade; oh, this is not a sadness offered; this is not the final cut of circumstance; for
yes, my fellow’s dreams are sharp, yes their corners are folded clarity; all plans are
Squared away this day; all is smooth and proper in
Some ceremony of guilt and pleasure – but low a lasting treasure is found beyond such rituals,
Such histrionic poses; beyond your comprehension –
A gift which beats a pulsar tympani – as angels moan
In symphony to herald the coming of His summation;
His fingers on the moon, unseen tendrils tug the axis
of the universe toward a sanguine moment…
Shout this Brothers!
True!
His fiber strands withstand all trauma, his nightly dream,
Your daily drama to give your heart a twirl,
To ask nothing of this world.
Blinding ignorance
Refusing to admit defeat
To even yourself
Delusions of grandeur
Clouds your judgment
Hypnotizing the embryonic conscience
That you proclaim to possess
No epiphany
Continuing to live as the hero
That you pretend to be
Denying the existence
Of the villain that owns
Your narcissistic soul
Loosing your angels, one by one
Cascading down like dominos
Falling over until nothing remains
Numb inside
Cannot reciprocate the love
Bestowed on you
Your attempts at imitation
Just a desperate measure,
A histrionic demonstration of emotions
That your heart is incapable of feeling
Vacancy engulfs the hearts
Of those who live only for themselves
Your selfish heart
Thrives on twisted manipulation
Shattering the beautiful innocence
Of the guardian seraphim
That watch over you
Forever tarnishing the purity
That was my love for you
Now you're life knows only loneliness
Wallowing in emptiness
Until your very last breath