Best Infamous Poems
Should I enhance my recognition
by defiantly treading on an innocent heart?
Or perhaps mine is a sin of omission,
fleeing with fame a la carte,
while thoughtlessly tearing another soul apart.
What reward can be found
as I stomp on another’s dreams,
leaving them quaking on the ground
where incivility screams
and not one ray of light beams?
Perhaps there is more joy in obscurity
than in fame that grows from ill roots.
Before me is an angel basking in purity
besieged by destructive brutes –
wolves dressed in lambs’ suits.
My soul will not let me go there –
to that place where evils dwell.
Entrust my fate to a prayer
that self-promoting acts cannot dispel
the eternal fires of an infamous hell.
*Written April 12, 2015, for Sheri’s “I, Icon” challenge
Torturing me with touches
I feel the sting of hardened and lasting lust
Touches not of mortal fingers,
But Halloween-haloed strings composed by musicians of mystery
Pressing upon my back--yes! A searing, yet melodi-errotic strike
All upon me, yet far from me...
Leave me not in the judgement of my own scrambling feelings
Rest not away as I hold my hands out in the dark
Deathly dances are visions heaven-bound for the duo--
Yet for the solo- a blank, useless measure...
The pulsing silence of amateur-stitched love rattles me
Making rhythms giggle in my mind
Intervals of idiocy tormenting all reason
Truly an agonizing, but for others--minor--prison
Is the smile that helped design those strings
Those strings that pluck upon my spine
Controlling me in a dark place stuck between tunes and time
Why are your hands so cold when you play those piano keys?
Why are your lungs so eroded with the pride that taints the songs you sing?
Why have the rhythms gone awry, and why does your apathetic dissonance thrive?
And tell me… through it all…
As you compose the rise and fall…
Why is all this destruction you created so vibrantly alive?
Of the truth of the vaccine
one must no longer speak!
King Biden will toss you in jail,
if one negative word you, on
social media do tweak.
For truth is now a physical threat,
Don’t you fully see?
A deadly ,vaccination trumps truth?
So roll up your once free,
American sleeve.
Free speech, no longer allowed in King Biden’s
nation.
Your body is now, entirely his, on the road
to being a Communist nation!
7/16/2021
…1…
The time has come your passing has happened
Your desire to live was never dampened
The great Scottish debate for you to stay or go
I screamed yes, but the haggis of your heart said no
The split of our nation represents the split in my heart
But now the time has come and we must part
Much like our dreams of reaching the sixth form debate final
“Page 32” you crowbarred into conversation
infuriating Ash to the point of self-immolation
your self important boasts of superior knowledge
turned my my weakened soul into watery porridge
You were not a stereotype, despite what many said
Unlike most Scots, you ate more than simply fried bread
Your challenge with crackers so lascivious that I lost my thread
And since then I yearned for a way to do more than simple observe your bed
But your aggression was endearing, cutting and clear
Tearing opponents to shreds, speaking to all that will hear
But I was behind a glass wall, simply shedding a tear
As a limp invitation to a party was the closest I could near
I sit here now and remember our lark
Our time together, characterized by a battle with a shark
The verbal brutality was shocking that situation was stark
But your retorts were quick witted, but often loaded with snark
This took so long to write as my heart still bares scars
An open mouth like yours could give hour long seminars
Yet you still saved me from being bundled into one of Bennet’s cars
Yet I must hope that we meet again, underneath heaven’s stars
AN INFAMOUS LEGEND
King Henry XIII was indeed quite a boy,
He had no clue how to spell the word coy,
He was consumed by a quest that
A wife bear,
And give birth to a male heir,
He was fat, red headed and
Dressed with flamboyant flair!
Not quite my thing,
For a ruling King!
He wedded his first wife Catherine of Aragon,
Who did not bear a son
And grew to loathe this noble lady
He had done!
Cromwell, Henry’s adviser was used,
And finally abused, he had
To ask parliament to pass a bill,
Which made divorce a common drill.
One morning King Henry got out of
The wrong side of the bed,
And had Cromwell beheaded,
The executioner had trouble
Severing his head!
This Bill made Henry, head
Of the Protestant faith.
The Pope excommunicated King Henry
From Rome,
A disliked King who sat on
England’s throne!
Catherine now belonged in the past,
Enter Anne Boleyn,
Their marriage was short and ill fated
For she was publicly beheaded!
In between marriages and wives,
Henry had affairs,
One wonders how far his seed was spread,
Let’s not split hairs,
Probably he could fill a today’s
Rugby stadium!
With his family jewels downstairs!
Jane Seymour, his third wife was
Was the love of his life,
She gave birth to an heir, a son,
But his beloved wife died,
Henry was sad and perhaps
A single tear dried!
Now Henry had a son,
But needed to still live his life
So he spied wife number four
Who willingly came to knock
On his door.
But Henry divorced Anne of Cleves,
Wow lucky lady!
And so entered wife number five,
Who was brave and plucky,
She had a short married life,
Tried and sentenced for treason,
This was an excuse for a reason
To have Catherine Howard beheaded,
Soon after they were wedded!
Congratulations to Catherine Parr,
For though she was the last,
She outlived the King by far,
And brought to rest his cast,
And lewd past!
In fifteen hundred and forty seven,
King Henry died,
We doubt he went to Heaven,
And was laid to rest next to Jane,
His third wife, and beloved bride.
Perhaps Henry's family jewels should
Have been shredded or beheaded,
And then he be remembered,
As an infamous legend.
I'm not afraid of jail
I'm not afriad of Hell
Im comfortable at home
As well in a cell
Disregard for every rule
Nickname me cruel
A.K.A. crazy
My rage never gets lazy
Is it obvious I'm so immersed in hatred
I have some sympathy inside me but nowhere permanent to place it
Lets face it
Im a rolling stone
Bad like Michael Jackson(R.I.P.)
Bad to the bone
I think the devil fears me
I know He hears me
Eyes dry like the desert
So I don't get teary
That's probably why ghosts won't come near me
I chase down them zombies
They trudge away in fear but won't get away from me
I'm that evil
Yea that evil
Words cut like a knife
Yes sir my poems cleave you
Law enforcement doesn't deserve respect
Authority assassin
Watch closely as I grasp the FBI by the neck
People get so curious
As to why I'm so furious
Then they start to question about my rage's secret weapen
R.A.G.E. stands for Richard Always Get Even
This is way beyond realization
Beyond believin
I was bred this way
Anger entered my home with intentions to forever stay
It's ok
Because as far as I can remember glee and joy was scarce
A rarity
I used the rest of my happiness so I donated it to charity
As for dyin I'll be content to meet my maker
No love for any being
Girls call me heartbreaker
Guys call me headbreaker
Make them all pay for leaving me
How could this be
Which is worst: Being stranded
Or being abandoned
Maybe I'm just both
In-between
Pure mean
Go to either heaven or hell and do a one-man raid
I'm not afraid
Because I'm a thug, outlaw, infamous
The Famous and Infamous
Written: By Tom Wright
6/22/06
Each time that silence
Steals a famous voice,
It returns to the dust
From whence it came.
Some selfishly think
That had it been their choice,
Death would have called
A more infamous name;
There’s nothing about it
That can be changed,
One’s fame or fortune
Cannot alter the season.
For at birth each death
Has been pre arranged,
Though at times we’re apt
To ponder God’s reason.
Caitiff
A word to know well—
Someone who’s contemptible!
A coward for sure . . .
Infamous and obnoxious . . .
A miscreant immoral!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
July 16, 2018 (Tanka)
A somnolent trilogy of Greek hubris
Hero journeys into infernal abyss
Blinded by salty pride and avarice
Seeping into Poseidon's lair, nothing amiss
Swept along by steely reserve, prowess
Bounded by fate and drifting malice
Flooded by trials, providential interstice
Curdled by envy, lathering jaundice
Odysseus's rite of passage into briny bliss
Travails on high seas; champion listless
Brackish bilge, undulating fervour, blanching rigamortis
Beached by despair, marooned by injustice
Stranded by capricious swells and divine artifice
Quarantined by chilling fears; bleaching cowardice
I was once in thrall to the infamous myth
Of the artiste souffrant,
But I’ve come ultimately to see it
As the cruelest of delusions.
But could it not be said
That it’s still among us,
That malefic notion
That the artist is a spirit set apart,
For some special purpose
Of which pain is an essential component?
Under your twisted lips, runs a wooden tongue called time, you have drained the city of all that is divine,and your tongue is rolling over into your head as if you are getting ready to expose the dead. You went on a shooting spree, committing murder in the first degree, mashing up sauce and pans while you infiltrate the substance all over the land.
You bear the mark of the Antichrist in your stomach and the beast curled up in your back side while the guitar is strumming silently in your head as if music is your only gift and sardines, are your only dish.
Retrace your steps and look in the hole and you will see how far the tunnel has gone into the river bed and what about the clock above the wall? It’s time for you to get out of bed and take a long cold shower.
Your wildest dream is buried in your heart and it has been with you from the very start, walk up the road and turn around the bend and you will see the lion occupied its den, you can tame it from outside but don’t make the mistake and go inside, your wildest dream is full of pride.
The morning is looking for you and the afternoon has its wing all over you, the evening and nights are filled with delight but the dragons are active after midnight but the firefly will lead you into the light.
I have seen you wailing on that road with Illusion covering your face and reality leading you to a woeful embrace. The train is speeding and you must recuse yourself from the track before you get hit in your back.
Setting up late at nights to roll the infamous dice has set off a new course of action with marinated duck clucking in the oven and sauté beef frozen on ice watching the curry chicken dancing on top of the plate.
They set up all night waiting for you to try on a brand-new pair of shoes; I don’t think it will fit because deception is stuff in its sole. It’s too small for your feet and I can feel the Cinderella heartbeat spreading the heat.
This is more than fifteen-year-old inquiry of a man and a woman on a reckless and deceptive journey and the schemes that they use to obtain the price came at a horrendous sacrifice both man and woman fell into the ditch leaving a painful bridge behind and we finally got them off the pitch.
A badge of great honor
We wear it with pride,
They say it’s an insult
But we’ll let that one slide.
A boomer’s a doer
A person with Pep,
Marching alone
To their own special step.
The children of Giants
Who lived through a war
Instilling in us
The passion to soar.
They call us great bores
Whose opinions don’t count,
Incongruous has-beens
Our words they discount.
Little they know
It’s a wheel that does turn,
With each generation
Another to spurn.
Suffice it to add
We’re fine in our skin,
Whatever is said
They’ll still be our kin.
Millennials are brash
They message and tweet,
But most just innocuous,
In-fact rather sweet.
They look at their parents
The way we did ours,
With fresh consternation
Like brief summer showers.
When all’s said and done
For boomers like us,
There’s nothing more pleasing
Than life without fuss.
Buzzards on the Infamous Hill
Always sitting at the edge of my seat,
When, oh when, shall truth finally come out…
As a true,American splendiferous treat!
But buzzards of cravish deception,
Fill the political, pockmarked skies.
Leaving us forever, with questions.
These carnivores reside on The Hill.
Where truth and goodness perish.
Americans left with lies, hope is killed.
Ethics lay as pricey,broken sunglasses.
Crushed beneath deceptive, well heeled feet.
“No news, just pure propaganda for the masses?”
Now, an amoral ,upside down, nation,
Where cheating and lies are given full reign.
And all good folk, dubbed as “abominations?”
Indeed, tis the poison Swamp’s entire purpose.
To establish a frightening totalitarian future.
Where depravity is honored, in their very sinews.
7/21/ 2023
Over 1200 poems I have constructed, written
bled, cried for, endured tremendous insanity
What do I have to show for it...
just more pencils, just more pens
5 more unused notepads
and a decaying, boring, repetitive, bland outlook on the rest of the world
If I were to clone myself, I'd beat myself black and blue
for reasons I can't uncover
for I scribbled all my mistakes
and silent distastes
Love, what infamous notion did I ever truly believe I'd find it
I'm only 18
the only my age believes in are flings
what a blasphemous thing
Am I overrreacting to my recent weeks
I could be
Don't remind me
I am aware some lives are worse than my mine by 10x
but I'm not living their lives
just dwelling in my own personal mini tragedies
As the hour sinks into 9, I sink into darkness
ever so slowly
I have the urge to seclude myself in my cocoon of covers
but it's been said and done
I chuckle at the thought that I was believed myself invincible
hahahahahaha
....I'm only indefinitely vulnerable
Dave walked toward the city
bridge
Earlier he had slammed the
fridge
For yesterday he had been fired
After three long years
unemployed and tired
So walking across after parking
his cream car
Looking across the sky to the
one star
A zombie pulling him to the
edge
Laughing at him all the way
across the ledge
Then he jumped into the water
From a height no doubt a well
planned slaughter
He had planned to visit the
infamous other side
So he flew like an eagle wings
spread wide
SLAM into the ocean Lord
Hallowed be thy name (he
thought)
Thy kingdom come
Thy will be done
When they buried poor Dave
The man no one could save
R.I.P. upon his stone
Why me? his eternal groan
Dave's wife sobbing in prayer:
"Our Father, which art in
heaven,
Hallowed be thy Name.
Thy Kingdom come.
Thy will be done in earth,
As it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily
bread.
And forgive us our trespasses,
As we forgive them that
trespass against us.
And lead us not into
temptation,
But deliver us from evil.
For thine is the kingdom,
The power, and the glory,
For ever and ever.
Amen".