Best Mean Spirited Poems
Some people frankly write about their quirks.
If I had any, I would tell you so.
Though no outlandish trait within me lurks,
some folks think I’m a nut. What do they know?
Why do they criticize when I engage
in conversations with myself. What’s wrong
with them? Also, they frequently enrage
me, looking shocked when I burst into song
while jogging through the neighborhood at night
clad in my red muu-muu and army boots.
I overhear them saying, “What a sight!”
I live around mean-spirited old coots!
My grandkids, too, think my behavior strange.
because I check the stove repeatedly
(I must be SURE it’s off!) and rearrange
my papers fifteen times. They’re irked at me
when I repeat myself five times a day.
I do this for THEIR benefit! They just
do not appreciate wise things I say.
One learns by repetition; it’s a MUST.
I surely hope I’ve made this crystal clear:
I have no oddball quirks; I’m truly blessed
with wholesome traits that, I feel, should endear
me to all those who criticize and jest!
FICTIONAL (well--some of it))
Date written and posted: February 6, 2018
Contest Title: Quirks Placed 5th (of ten)
Sponsor: Madison Demetros
April 10, 2019, entered in Richard Lamoureau's Poem of the Day Contest
When I received this honor--POTD February 8, 2018--I was over the MOON!
For 15 years I have tolerated,
calculated, anticipated, sublimated workplace degradations, derisions,
subversions towards my character,
not today, no more,
yes, my pride has become livid, swollen like a bad bruise on the heart
and I apologize not for my self defense & righteous roil,
I will address you as the mean spirited scoundrels that you are,
no more 'boss - employee' boundry, just one human to another,
No fascade & title to prance behind, no longer above reproach from the lesser,
you are now entering the shock of the 'dead-fall' ,
buck you and your low wages, buck you and your perfect policies,
buck you and your work ethic 'mumbo jumbo',
buck you and the lame insults and false criticisms perpetrated
against my innocence and motivation,
buck you with your attempts to undermine my positive leadership,
buck you and your inconsistent hours
making a God damn yoyo out of me, buck you and your bonuses,
buck you and your preposterous training videos and ridiculous high school uniforms,
buck you and the belittling psychological questionniares connected to your applications,
buck you and your little managerial conclaves
which produce absurd machinations targeting the hourly employees
that make the place profitable,
wipe your cracks with your silly 'write ups' and legal circumspection bull-slit,
I am not your 'bro.' or 'buddy' , and I sure as shout am not your 'honey' ,
not today, not anymore
I will not allow you to treat me as a tool for your benefit,
I will no longer work faster so that you can save money & leave earlier,
you will no longer be permitted to laugh at me without redress,
you are now dealing with a Man, not just another employee number,
don't worry 'boss', I'll continue to work, I'm not gonna 'quit' ,
but I will not work for you, I am going to work with you,
today is a New Day -
J.A.B. Dedicated to all hard working Men and Women -
If I do not trust my wisdom
then I have earned nothing,learned nothing,loved nothing, become nothing,
I would be a random phantom,a struggle absent triumph to fathom,
just a creature chasing feelings, ignorant of meaning,
would be like disbelieving my birth
underestimating my worth
searching for mirth
in spoiled earth,
As a Mother never leaves the bones of her babe
Wisdom remains the Warchief of my warcraft, Defender of my Dignity,
when born, naked, bloodied, a new face in an old world, a new dream in an old scream
Wisdom was there to share the air, the steward of my soul and shadow, reason's blade,
guardian of flesh and frequency, It'll be present when final breath farewells me,
Wisdom's warfare is figured yet fanatical,dreaded and unseen,
I will not allow anything to invalidate my wisdom, no threat or doubt of strangers,
humans exist to fight, many to exploit the labor and hearts of their neighbors,
all God's animals fight to survive, but we fight for wants and principles as well,
I war not to live longest, I battle to believe in the value of my death, my spirit not to sell,
Wisdom has nourished my motivations as blood nutures the organs
encouraging me to love life today, not tomorrow,
that I should fear not the cruel for they are truly the weak and poor,
that I am worth more than the Petro Dollar, Euro and Yuan,
that Art is my religion and creativity my life,
reminding that to teach is to live and to live is to lead,
that happiness happens steady when you like who you are,
to be mean spirited is to be despirited,
that lies live when our truths appear terror,
Wisdom taught me to be more a conissuer of soul than of body,
that as a champion I should keep relics of my losses as well as of my victories,
that we learn nothing of significance by being right,
that love is never wrong,
that in times of victory be merciful, in moments of defeat be indomitable,
that I am Free as I am Forever,
gave me the motto,
long damn day, good damn day -
J.A.B.
safe haven for poets once existed
till destructive forces came on board
those who seek just to hurt others
end up harming themselves
several such people have inflicted pain here
though no one would call them “writers”
juvenile antics and hateful comments
are their only legacies
through profanity and threats
digging holes to poetry’s Armageddon
alienating those who won’t strike back
or resort to petty, personal attacks
they say, "You're the most despised among the soup clan"
spew lava-like proclamations
hold grudges for years when they don't place
in a contest where only quality work won
evil doers adopt numerous aliases
to favorite each of their own poems
but poets can easily identify them
as their “attempts” at poems all sound the same
if one who can’t write, gives you a contest win
what is it you have really won
their friendship? No, they don’t have friends
do you compare your poetry to theirs
who wants to share on such a site
where mean-spirited people call the shots
other places enforce rules to promote civility
let your conscience guide you to these sites
August 18, 2014
It's a melodrama. Try to picture the drama queen
A bit actress lying on the floor in her final scene
Her lips trembling, tears running down her face
ruining her makeup in a gown of satin and lace
You won't win any Oscars, Honey. Not this time
Take lessons, hon. You can't act worth a dime
She's quick to blame everyone, but not herself
She claims innocence, but she's an imp, an elf
She's been insulted, but that's a falsified claim
Seriously, is she for real, or is warring her game?
No one has called her cruel names, not one of us
She's just a sad soul to have created such a fuss
Some poets are thin-skinned and misunderstand
that comments made are not given as a reprimand
But lo and behold... she sure came out swinging
like a bat out of hell with her accusations slinging
So lady poet, try and get a good grip on your life
No one is out to get you or cause you bitter strife
No one has rattled your cage or crushed your soul
and no one is bullying you with the acts of a troll
Your mean-spirited diatribes should reach an end
Maybe then you'll feel better; able to comprehend
You keep blowing a whistle without a good reason
and you've made yourself a victim of poetic treason
I'm wondering why you think your views are fine
and I should not be allowed to give voice to mine.
I didn't call you ugly names, neither of us did that
so stop clawing at us like some hissy spitting cat
It haunts you like shadows inside your imagination
So let it go and stop the outlandish discrimination
Don't you see that the delusions inside your head
are figments in your mind; things that you dread?
This communication marvel
Of modern times
At our finger tips
Crude or refined
Attachments plenty
In various forms
Some polite
Other's, against the norm
What takes people to write
In mean spirited ways
When kind words can be said
And happiness stays
Is it jealousy or hate
For these words to be written
If we ever get any
Not saintly, but sinning
But it's the sender of the email
And their literal say
What made them write
On that given day
So think before
You send that mail
And common sense
Will prevail
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/life.php
Sunk comfortably aloof in his mauve reading chair
Dad's evening reverie; pipe, cheese, crackers and book
His world vanished in smoke swirling into the air
For his family; an occasional vacant look
Yet he'd take time to spin me a bedtime story
Of enchanted lands and daring schemes
Flights of fancy depicting heroic glory
Betraying his real life's unmet dreams
My dad's inner home, the one he preferred
Was far from our world's cruel, petty strife
His family and solace was the written word
Though he was good to his kids and true to his wife
This world was too much with him somehow
A scathingly mean-spirited bother
But I just remember his soft kindness now
Blessed to have had such a father
Goodness me, fiddle dee dee and la de dah
Mary turned into a black sheep, baa baa baa
That naughty little lamb
Has contrived a big scam
She's gone too far astray and has lost her way
Mary's been tinkering on an old fiddle
But she can't play worth a piddle or diddle
She's as crazy as a loon
Mind and fiddle outta tune
Even the cow can unravel this riddle
I heard about the guy, name of Jack Horner
Who hangs around the lamp post on the corner
Mary does his bidding
It's true. I'm not kidding
She didn't listen when I tried to warn her
What'd you plant in your garden, Mary Mary?
I heard smokin' it will make you quite merry
The feds have grown wise
To her innocent disguise
My goodness! She's become very contrary!
Mean ol' Mary dressed up as Little Bo Peep
To bully and mock the flock of grazing sheep
She is shamefully cruel
I'd meet her in a duel
To put an end to that mean-spirited creep
Last weekend she frightened Little Miss Muffet
Who was eating a light lunch on her tuffet
Munching her whey and curd
When Mary dropped a turd
Then ran off, telling Miss Muffet to stuff it!
What a fussy hellcat Mary has become
Her lies have people describing her as 'scum'
She's bonkers in the head
Obviously ill bred
and if you believe a word she says, you're dumb
Evil is a person who chases blind mice
But by now we all know Mary is not nice
She screamed at them, "Now run!"
Then shot 'em with her gun
One day that ghastly creature will pay the price
The Big Bad Wolf's a hero in Mary's thinking
Cuz he's dreadful to others without blinking
He was mean to two pigs
when he blew down their digs
Mary's just as horribly cruel, I'm thinking
Like Humpty Dumpty, who once sat on a wall
Mary's wicked ways will lead to her downfall
A powder keg's been lit
It will hurt quite a bit
But she's a bad egg who always starts a brawl
And because iniquity shall abound,
the love of many shall wax cold
Matt. 24:12
In the depths of their heart
is a frozen soul
Mean spirited, cruel and hateful
They got a downright nasty attitude,
will cuss you out just because
Don’t need no particular reason why
Their innermost desire towards someone
is wishing they would die
Having no real affection for friend or foe,
they’re incapable of experiencing love
Their hatelust is grand and bold,
they got a rocky heart canyon of cold
In the bottom of their heart
is buried a frozen soul
They dwell among the dead things,
and move in the midst of the living
Stone cold wax that don’t melt,
evil thoughts and feelings feed this arctic flame
They love blaspheming God’s holy name
But the wick on their cold candle is short,
there is no heat emanating from their heart
They just keep heaping hate,
upon hate upon hate
on the passing compassion collection plate
As I pray for them ...
hoping it’s not too late,
too late ... it’s gotten too late
For them to pass through the pearly gate
They’d rather stay in their arctic fortress below:
Letting their frozen heart
gather more ice and snow
in the hell canyon of cold
Be assured your gardening secrets are held intact, never to be revealed, due to the magic faerie code.
Confidences among the lilacs are kept through this world into the next one, secured by these flying orbs.
Faerie folk’s unquestionable integrity and trust are rarely questioned, never wavering in any way.
Beware of one teeny tiny glitch in the garden area, where the elves and gnomes reside in summer.
Elves, gnomes, and leprechauns sometimes disguise themselves as gentle moral faerie folk, in order
To broadcast secrets and stir up trouble among the snails, grasshoppers, bees, and lightning bugs.
These charming deceivers will broadcast secrets to gain even an inch of status among the moon people.
The only saving grace is that their well-earned reputation proceeds them, so they are universally
Dis-believed as they simply lack the stellar integrity of the faerie folk.
Be especially vigilant and close-mouthed during giant changes of moon phases.
This is when these deceivers have the easiest times transforming, because portals are open.
Signed: The Faerie Council.
Picture this billboard, with the last line crossed out by a
Giant red X, above which an immature, volatile, vindictive
Mean-spirited, pre-adolescent
Leprechaun has penned
FAKE NEWS.
Everyone has a seat as fate is spun
on the ambiguous simple machine,
which circles surely as Earth does the Sun.
People have daily battles to be won,
from lowly peasants to a regal queen,
everyone has a seat as fate is spun.
Origins of happiness can have begun
as a sorrowful, mean-spirited scene,
which circles surely as Earth does the Sun.
Adventure and danger are thrills for some,
while more sob or fight to remain serene.
Everyone has a seat as fate is spun.
As some rise, others fall and cannot run,
all entrapped by an event unforeseen,
which circles surely as Earth does the Sun.
Truth is static and when the day is done
no one can escape from fortune’s routine.
Everyone has a seat as fate is spun,
which circles surely as Earth does the Sun.
I was a mean-spirited, remorseless boy
when it came to get revenge
with the boldest outrage...
Joey never suspected foul play from me!
We were the cruelest classmates,
bullying on the weak and skinny ones;
emptying out their pockets and confiscate
their money as if we were the Internal Revenue...
where would we get that without another avenue?
We looked at them laughing, but our laughter was deliberate!
A question remained, " Who was going to be the treasurer? "
Joey stared at me with envy trying to say, " It's me! "
I stared at him in the same way wishing it were me!
" Andy, let me handle the treasure since I like math! "
And with confidence he promised, " Not a dime will be missing! "
" I have to trust you on that, Joey...you talk silly! "
But he shouted, " You couldn't keep a secret!
Your mom will wonder where you've gotten all that money, thinking
you have done something stupid and illegal like robbing or stealing! "
" Okay, " I snarled, " You got your wish...you grizzly bear! "
Morning came as I plotted against him planning every step
with astuteness, " My plan can't fail! " I told myself...
Joey came running to me as a runner in a marathon,"
" Where did you get those Fila sneakers and Perry America jacket? "
" My dad bought me those...he wanted to reward for my good grades! "
" You cheating, bastard...if it weren't for me, you would fail them all! "
" We are supposed to give the money back to those poor kids! "
I shouted with a vexed voice...but he replied laughing, " No, I never will, punk! "
It was a week before graduation, we took the final test,
how much I wanted Joey to feel the stamina of my wrist
by remembering what he did with the stolen money!
The air in the classroom was as solemn as a church's silence,
Joey sat next to me and copied the answers as I checked them them in each box.
" Fool, you are going to fail this test...this is my revenge! " I uttered...
" What was that? " The wrong answer? " He asked me without malice.
" Yes, change it to All Of The Above " I answered confidentially.
Many more wrong answers I gave him until I put my pencil down and sighed.
" Thanks, Andy for the answers...I hate summer school: you are simply the best! "
If The Shoe Fits!!
I’m disillusioned and perplexed,
My mind blown by the disrespect,
Shown to others for their creative works,
Anonymous vibes, by novice jerks!
Who are you to judge and critique,
Another’s works or their technique!
Are you jealous and insecure?
Or just mean spirited and immature?
This world is big enough for two,
And doesn’t revolve around just you!
Opportunity is afforded to everyone,
Chances go round, your turn will come!
Today is about acceptance and variety,
Open your eyes and your mind, it’s a new society!
Written By: Sarita A. Milliner © 4/13/16
"Separate sheep from goats," was the order he barked at me.
Goats are mean spirited creatures. That much I could see.
Sheep are similar in color but with coats of a different density,
so I grabbed a handful of wool and set the gentle animals free.
Human characteristics can divide people into different herds.
Selfish ones with a temper, who curse others with vile words.
They are goat-like ones who sow the bad seeds they will reap.
Don't try counting them if you're having trouble falling asleep.
Mild mannered sheep-like humans, sense danger they never cause.
The black ones are presumed naughty, but it's not one of their flaws.
Sheep-like people flee from trouble unlike those who like to fight.
Don't mingle with goats if you want your fleece to be clean and white.
7/16/2016
Walking by the high school lockers,
Is like walking by some unleashed doors,
You don't know what is hidden in this persistent floor.
Some footsteps of a scientist or a future star,
Are someone next to you in their minds so far...
Some are modest and shy and some are mean spirited,
There are some determined and shrwed all tied into a single gift.
As you open your locker you choose your way,
Like soldiers who never betray.
You may become honest or quite prudent,
As their is an angel in your soul hiding her eloquence.
There you may face dynamism or foolhardy,
But don't lose your charm because you are the SPECIAL SOMEBODY....
(This poem is dedicated to all my fellow poets who have chosen their way to achieve their hidden desires...n don't frgt that evry1 is unique and is so special)