Best Inflate Poems
Well, I see that Congress is proposin' another trillion dollar spree!
Those inept buffoons must think money grows upon a tree!
The treasury is crankin' out bales of twenty-dollar bills,
Doin' their part to cure (and inflate) the nation's many ills!
Funds were 'loaned' to help carmakers, now they're hollerin' fer more!
A ton of dough was 'loaned' to banks, but ain't nobody keepin' score!
Millions was designated to help home foreclosures to abate.
Where has my money gone? I've seen minimal results to date!
Funds are proposed fer more sand fer the beaches of New Joisey,
And city officials want a water park out west in frigid Boise!
Frenzied lobbyists are scurryin' about fer a portion of the pork,
To build an emergency landin' strip on the Hudson in New York!
Money is probably well-spent fer roads, bridges and agin' sewers,
But spare me the cost of subsidizin' sports arenas and sozzled brewers.
Lack of foresight by the banks and politicians got us in this mess,
Now they cover their boondoggles with my money, nonetheless!
Hordes of politicians gleefully gather at the bottomless trough,
Elbowin' others fer largesse they claim will make us better off.
Is there no end to compensatory spendin' and open-ended lendin'?
Hey! That's my money you fellers are so very inept at spendin'!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
You say things that are really mean
I say that I'm still pretty lean
You say I'm fat and that's unfounded
I say I'm not fat, just well rounded
You say my big waist makes me look like a clown
I say that's not my waist, my chest fell down
You say I should be able to touch my toes with ease
I say you're right, if they were on my knees
You say my socks don't match, I should be more discreet
I say it's not my fault, I can't see my feet
You say I'm too heavy for my height, that's what you state
I say you're wrong, I'm just too short for my weight
You say I should weigh one eighty, no more
I say I'm five ten, I should be six four
You say next Halloween I should dress up as a mouse
I say I'll wear a window and go there as a house
You say I should get more exercise and try to shed a pound
I say that when I sit around, I really sit around
You say at the theatre you were embarrassed and didn't know what to do
I say it was because you sat in seat number three while I sat in one and two
You say I thought you were watching your weight
I say I am, I'm watching it inflate
You say being with me doesn't seem the same anymore
I say I'm still the same, just a whole lot more
You say you'd call if I were thinner
I say just don't call me late for dinner
You say we should work out at the gym down the street
I say we should get up and go out to eat.
Please note! A waist is a terrible thing to mind.
Come, oh the wind
with the muscle of a wrestler
come to sweep through me
fiercely I say
and carry me away
away from myself
to a place so desert
and there I will find peace
Come, oh the wind
come so fast and fierce
come rake through me
and throw my sorrows away
to the wilds I say
and let them perish
Come, oh the wind
come like a hurricane
and rush through me
come to inflate my dreams with hope
and let them fly like a balloon
so high to reach the stars and the moon
Come, oh the wind
come let me be
a soul I wish to be
A father is….
….that grouchy, cursing guy
who just banged his head
on the cabinet door
getting under the sink
to fix a leak
…that “voice” resounding
off the walls
singing – off key,
talking to the dog,
whispering
“I love you’s”
to sleeping children.
…that firm hand
patting you on the back
when deserved,
a bit lower at times
also when deserved.
…he is that “look”
that can inflate,
or deflate, you
amuse and confuse you,
stop you
in your tracks
to ponder – “why”
…he is the ears
that don’t seem
to be listening,
yet hear everything
…the eyes
that don’t seem
to be looking
but see “you”
when you can’t
see yourself
A father is
“that wry smile”
that grin
that says “I love you”
without words.
5/19/2016
submitted to – A Father is…- Poetry Contest
sponsor – Brenda Chiri-Carroll
Blowing up things, unfortunately,
Birth’s the printing of endless money.
By Gov’ments and world money makers,
That overwhelm global undertakers.
Yet we cry out that war is unsound,
That it spreads grief and guts all around.
Yet money printed that’s spent on death,
Shamefully gives our markets bad breath.
Which helps to inflate our portfolios,
And house prices rise when their money flows.
Which is a bummer when we are buying,
But when selling our spirits are flying.
That’s the nature of evil Ponzi schemes;
They’re a huge faux dough making machine.
But when interest rates start going higher,
The globalist fear’s become direr.
Yet they’ve pre-planned for any crisis;
Funding Hamas, Hezbollah, and Isis.
So all sides may have weapons for gore,
Creating more dollars; yes, much more!
But faux dough made on printing devices,
Is the main reason for all high prices.
So they help blow up half of creation,
To help lessen that sticky inflation.
But most aren’t aware of the real players,
Who divide and distract behind layers,
With ‘news’ and psyops that raise our ire,
Fooling us to put out the small fires
Oh fie, a poem about money and war,
What is the point of writing this for?
It’s for those with an enquiring soul,
Who care to see that our sons remain whole.
Fathers-in-spirit do not teach your congregations
Suicide, massacre, fallacy, bombs, and guns
But facts, piety, love, and peaceful co-existence.
Fathers-in-flesh do not teach your young ones
Neglect, war, begging, rum, and abortions
But care, peace, jobs, juice, and obedience.
Fathers-in-power do not inflate elections
Accumulate billions, dictate the pace, and obliterate our positions
But listen, agree, and act to what is being said by the Audience
Father-in-heaven allow our pleas to act in turns
For you are a witness to these burns
As we shall use these as lessons and evidence.
I challenged you, and you finally took the bait.
This was a battle that I had to instigate.
But, you only came when I gave you a mandate,
So now I will be happy to accommodate.
Now Burger King Mandelay is on my hotplate!
"YOUR" SELF-MADE throne...I will proceed to desecrate.
But, I would love to know what made your head inflate,
Because each one of your slams sounded so innate;
Not worth the effort that it takes to conjugate.
You would be better off trying to slam KUWAIT!
I am a master poet. You can not relate.
When I started this race, I left you at the gate.
The second best slam is what we must nominate,
And the other spots are what we must allocate.
I apologize for writing rhymes that frustrate.
Stop whining! Step up! And try to eliminate!
SHUT UP! So that you do not self-incriminate.
Males should not be JEALOUS; That is a FEMALE trait!
Baby boy...You need to go back and incubate.
Climb into the ground, so that you can germinate.
Then, much later, I will come back and cultivate.
When pest step to the best, I have to fumigate!
The day you beat me is the day hell frigerates!
Just give the jury a chance to deliberate!
No one knows the joy you bring
They wish you weren’t around
The neighbor’s cat was just a “thing”
That moved and made a sound
It’s clear to see, you meant no harm
You thought it liked to play
To suggest, your transfer, to a farm
Well that was harsh to say
And, sure, you like to ride along
No matter where I go
Others seem to think I’m wrong
But, what do others know
I always say, “Haters, hate”
And you should just do you
It clearly was that bunny’s fate
To be your rabbit stew
As for daddy’s dinner plate
He left it unattended
You left the peas, but ate the steak
He ought not be offended
Now, had you ate, the peas instead
He’d have a valid fight
But you helped inflate his manly head
You felt, he grilled, just right
I feel that some just won’t agree
No matter, your perfection
Crying blind, but surly see
Yours and my affection
Jealousy’s a deadly sin
But seems to be the cause
For the ruckus over man’s best friend
Who’s known round town, as “Jaws”.
Rhyme about your favorite pet contest
About my dog, River
10/4/19
When you exhale
Into my life
I become
Nothing more
Than
A bubble dweller
Sometimes you inflate
My dwelling with
gentle whispers
Of wind...
Increasing my self
Esteem with every
Every breath
I rely on you
For my
Habitat
But is this fair?
What if you're not
Conscious?
What if you
Forget
I live here?
What if you get
tired of blowing
Bubbles?
Will I
Cease to
exist?
Does my
happiness
depend on
The strength
Of your
Lungs?
I long to be
Free
Outside the transparent
Walls
Connected to
More than
Just you
At last my dwelling
Has bursted
I'm independent
Of you
Now you are
The proud owner
Of a bursted
bubble
Please morn me
And wish it wasn't
Over
Reload your
bubble making gun
Gently breath
In my solution
Until I pop
Find new life
For I am a bubble dweller
And you are
An engineer
Of bubbles
Sent from my iPad
Oh, poor Anna Creontic
Reduced to a poetic antic
Who in her prime,
Exuding rhythm and rhyme
Broke the hearts of so many
Including mine.
Therefore, I shall not disclose
The “cut of her jib” or point of her nose
And lest I be severely beaten
Unveil a heart sugar can’t sweeten
Say what you will of old Anna Creontic
As history will always inflate
The touch of her hand, the wisp of her hair
And the list of her suitors irate
Among those living and dead
It has never been said
That she didn’t excel
On dance floor or bed
Written: September 330, 2024 For Edward Ibeh Contest
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A brown ribbon-like road with a blue sky.
A jungle of green, with the sky peeking high.
Asters are velvety rich, as a grasshopper's call.
Time flies—today is heat and tomorrow is fall.
Do you beguile me erratically, Hope?
The day of your birth has just waned.
But its white wings are full of scope.
With eyes that sang rhapsody, light reigned.
Grew bulky and bright and my path was clear.
Under their calming beams and smiles, dear...
A path going to some guilt-free land.
To which a star drops from the nightstand!
When did I leave the prisonhouse of clay?
My cantankerous spirit will vanish away.
We bestow all praise on the eternal elixir of bliss.
Oh, don't bury me amid rotting bones diss.
Amid a moon icy light, marble slabs shimmer.
Where a hapless mourner will always simmer.
Upon the graves of those who lie in peace.
While basking in the sun on a woodland lease.
Indulge in the September and fall faith.
September is unlike every other wraith
Colors and weather swing over the day.
No other month can claim the same way.
Season of hazy and luscious ripeness.
Loyal ally of the sun as it earns rifeness.
Crafting a scheme to load and bless him.
Vine-covered thatch-eaves surge, full of vim.
Using pears to twist the mossy home trees.
And yield every fruit its full, deep bloom breeze.
Inflate the squash and cram the hazel seeds.
With the tasty kernel, deeper buds will breed.
And further, later blooms for the bees.
Until they believe warm days will never cease.
The summer season has clogged their pores.
Who hasn't seen you often in your store?
Inflate the ego at your own risk
lest the air go to the head
with results that few pursue
when doom arrives at the end
the race is run against the wind
lifting those who seek to fly
the balloon rising high
before falling to the ground
pushed by storms that twirl within
a gravity spun from the soul
the black hole light can’t escape
when assumptions consume grace
the detonation comes at last
between the pull and the push
more a whimper than a blast
a fitting end that few admit.
Was it loneliness that convinced me to pursue
Yet one more futile try, another mismatched mate
The years pass quickly and the choices become few
On eligibility’s scale I fail to rate
A magical connection I cannot create
My heart grows fatigued, a feeling so alarming
Should I place my future hopes in the hands of fate
Many are alone; where do you hide, Prince Charming
I’m weary of searching yet feel I must renew
The “frogs” say it’s my fault, but I recriminate
I only kiss them hoping my dreams would come true
No princes emerge; they only retaliate
By leaving me alone on weekends with no date
Do they realize it’s my ego they’re harming
Happily ever after endings I inflate
Many are alone; where do you hide, Prince Charming
For years I’ve sought you out and now I think I’m through
This path I have traveled I am forced to negate
Just like the fly that escaped when the frog’s tongue flew
Blessings of solitude I once did understate
So now I’ll just accept this solitary state
A stone fortress around my heart I’m now arming
The seasons have flown past and I fear it’s now too late
Many are alone; where do you hide, Prince Charming
Efforts expended but results do not equate
I realize it’s only myself I’ve been harming
No longer will I ask, questioning does abate
Many are alone; where do you hide, Prince Charming
You are one of the reasons
Why they inflate their quote
If you had seized the seasons
Good men could have had your vote
You are one of the reasons
Why our sweet land has gone sour in waste
Here is one of your multiple treasons
You aid corruption just to suit your taste
You are one of the reasons we wedge weighty wrath
Bombs daily detonate like fickle fireworks far north
You decided to do nothing but shut your mouth
So they took our weary sail south
You are one of the reasons the land is inflicted with rape
Overflowing in abundance yet you mong like a greedy ape
Alas our land is grey and old but not due
And it hurts me to know that I am also you.
What I want to be is content
Satisfied
Pleased with my life
Looking at myself
I've lost self love
I've lost self assurance
I've lost self actualization
I've lost me
In this deadly process
I've been searching
Like forensics teams on missing person's
For a purpose
I'm starting to lose focus
Envy starts arising
Plentiful opportunities to hurt
Yet the only blood that drops
Is from my own skin
Losing
It's evident
That i'm draining
Not understanding the path
That has been chosen
I can't find joy in the best things
I simply poke needles until they inflate
That's just my state
Love is in the air
I'm starting to feel a lil *****
Cause nobody is ever there
Everybody else gets their someone
Alone. I lose more blood.
My heart beat stops
I'm draining away