Best Misbehavior Poems
Ride of the Scarecrow Clan
(To: Mittens)
She was born in the corn on a cold misty morn,
the most beautiful cat on the farm.
(I must keep her from coming to harm!)
The most beautiful kitty inspired this ditty
with whiskers that whisper her charm,
wild white whiskers that whisper her charm.
But the angels grew jealous, much too overzealous,
they schemed up a dastardly plan,
that they stole from a bad bogeyman.
They would use and abuse all their magic, so tragic,
and conjure the Scarecrow Clan,
for their devilish dastardly plan.
The Clan owed them a favor for past misbehavior,
behavior so foul and so cruel,
they would ride when moon became full!
When the moon elevated they rose animated
to drown Mitten’s in the cesspool.
As they hunted they started to drool.
Hunting high, hunting low, riding ‘round to and fro,
the Clan frantically searched helter-skelter,
for young Mittens who found a safe shelter.
As they howled and they growled all the air became fouled,
but they couldn’t find Mittens’ safe shelter.
“When we find her, in acid we’ll melt her!”
Could these four scarecrows stoop to even new lows
as they hunt by light of the moon?
(Better hurry the dawn will come soon!)
Long they hunted and haunted but she was undaunted,
she laughed at the bumbling buffoons,
while she purred out some kitty cat tunes.
Curled with grace in a space near the warm fireplace,
for the Scarecrow Clan fears the fire.
(Just the thought of it makes them perspire.)
So they searched and they lurched in the fields near the church,
growing desperate, dejected, and dire,
for the sunlight will make them expire.
Without warning came morning, but there was no mourning,
the angels’ black magic was shattered,
and the Scarecrow Clan riders battered.
Under natural law the Clan turned back to straw,
and their straw o’er the cornfield was scattered.
She'll be safe now and that’s all that mattered.
13-March-2020 (Friday the 13th). First Place in "A Rattling Rhyme" poetry contest sponsored by Nina Parmenter
Categories:
misbehavior, beautiful, cat, jealousy, magic,
Form:
Rhyme
Today, meandering through the clutter of the local antique store,
I almost tripped and fell over an object partially hidden on the floor!
My hands came to rest on an old-fashioned school desk sitting there.
It reminded me of the one I occupied in my school days, I do declare!
My thoughts drifted back through the misty past to reminisce and ponder.
As I caressed its oaken surface with my fingers, I began to wonder.
Did it once grace a simple one-room prairie schoolhouse in Indiana?
Might it have come from a rustic schoolroom in the state of Montana?
The slanting top of the old desk was scratched and with ink was stained.
I saw faint initials carved by an idle lad whose attention span had waned!
The varnish was worn off the folding seat by many a squirming kid.
Wads of chewing gum still adorned the underside of the folding lid!
I recalled sitting at one of those uncomfortable desks trying to stay awake!
As Miss Ruth droned on and on, all I could think of was the recess break!
The room reeked of oranges and fried egg sandwiches we'd bring to munch.
Kids of means paid a dime to eat finer fare in the lunchroom for their lunch!
I recalled the thwack on my knuckles of Miss Ruth's ruler to get my attention,
And what awaited me at home for misbehavior with growing apprehension!
(A clerk noting my glazed eyes asked, "May I help you sir? Is anything amiss?"
"Nah", I replied. "If you please, I'd like to stand here awhile and reminisce!")
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Categories:
misbehavior, nostalgia, school, school, me,
Form:
Rhyme
I learned to spy on adult behavior
as a child, totally out of control.
For when sent to bed for misbehavior
I would secretly peek through the keyhole.
My parent's world included make-believe
pretending telling white lies didn’t count.
And I would watch them socially deceive
knowing they wouldn’t be called to account.
I'd hear them laugh at their friend’s naughty jokes
that would have earned me a spanking for sure.
And though at times they seemed someone else's folks,
their hypocrisy was mine to endure.
The invaluable lesson for me,
was, always block the keyhole with a key.
(Sonnet)
Jan. 24, 2019
SLAP THE MUSE AND TURN IT LOOSE Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John lawless
Categories:
misbehavior, 10th grade, anxiety, childhood,
Form:
Sonnet
a constanza
Is God’s viewpoint misunderstood?
Sodom burned in His discontent
for conduct our courts give assent.
Though some fault rests with Hollywood,
most immoral misbehavior,
living proof, man needs a Savior.
Like Mother Eve, man has withstood
conformance to a righteous way
choosing to yield as Satan's prey.
The Creator of all things good
shaped gender with no compunction,
procreation, its core function.
Our God knew as only He could
the all-pervasive attraction
of sexual interaction.
For sure He saw sin’s likelihood,
prostitution and abortion,
and all kinds of sex-distortion.
By sheer grace, God forgives deadwood.
Jesus died; He’s our Salvation,
redemption from hell’s damnation.
Is God's viewpoint misunderstood?
Though some fault rests with Hollywood,
Like Mother Eve, man has withstood
the Creator of all things good.
Our God knew as only He could,
for sure He saw sin’s likelihood.
By sheer grace, God forgives deadwood.
written 2 July 2018
Categories:
misbehavior, 11th grade, christian, creation,
Form:
Rhyme
Pointed white ears - distorted
Through a window pane,
Twitch to the sound of
Footsteps on the walk way.
They wait - still as twin statues
Carved in alabaster.
Then - eye contact
Through a glistening glass.
Not a muscle moves, not a sound!
Key into the doorway of their world
Turns swiftly,
Its companions jingling impatiently.
Click, click - then,
Nails - tough as nails,
Rake the back side of my front door.
Stir up the cooling embers of my heart.
Enter now into utter frenzy
Served up nightly.
A raucous welcome home party.
Whining, whirling, dancing, twirling.
Extreme tail misbehavior!
Running, jumping, licking, barking,
Ecstasy.
I'm Home!
© 2015 Diane Lefebvre
Categories:
misbehavior, absence, animal, celebration, cute
Form:
Free verse
I lived out loud, so they must have seen,
But they don’t know me, no one does.
The few I let in, must not have been
The ones I really needed,
I discarded them as lessons learned
– to burn lest I get burned.
My too-long life’s sad error was
Thinking that age would narrow the scope,
When looking back through dwindled hope,
I ken the opposite was truth.
Through backwards time I haven’t changed
But relationships quite early on
Seem somehow more significant,
Like my earliest encounters went.
How well he knew my own true self
The 2nd grade bully who tried for tears
But got instead a verbal slam.
‘Cuz bully power runs on fears
And injustice made me mad not scared,
It sucked the air from his balloon
And left me stronger in my room.
The fifth-grade kid who rode the bus
In Special Ed. for poverty.
A family of 10 in a two room shack
Just two stops from our farm
He always sat alone – even when by journey’s end
Some bench seats had three kids in them
The teasing, taunting pre-teen kids
Would often say ‘He smells.” (he did)
His clothes were rarely clean
His body often lacked hygiene.
I’ll never know what made me ask to sit
That first time while those kids looked on,
But he said “Sure.” And moved his books.
And we were friends a full school year
Until I moved, but once while in the recess yard
Another bully taunted me – for playing with the ‘retard’
Notwithstanding his ignorance,
The gross misdiagnosis (and lacking sensitivity)
I won again the verbal spar,
and his bruised ego demanded physicality,
So to the ground he pushed me.
Two hands, my butt and feet upon the ground
I sat in puzzled wonderment as my new friend took two steps up
And pushed the bully to the ground eliciting calls for teacher’s help
The duty teacher saw this last act
And grabbed my friend each hand to arm
Roughly shaking, while proclaiming,
Misbehavior yields punishment… and off to the principal’s office he went.
But I jumped up before he left,
Confronted the teacher with her unjust act,
And instead of justice I too went.
My life is filled with things like this.
Mostly short encounters and randomness,
But those are the ones who knew me best.
Categories:
misbehavior, anti bullying, courage, emotions,
Form:
Rhyme
They come late at night
When sleep finds not its way to my eyes
When I can't reach out to your heart
When I can't hear your side of the story
At such time, the sky, with stars, is all bright
Beautiful it is, yet, in spite of such, my heart cries
I never wanted us to keep apart
I never expected us, to be, for yesterday, so sorry
These thoughts, they do come at such a time
I then remember of how I used to rejoice being in your arms
Enjoying your torrid, loving charms
Forgetting even that the whole world does be
With glee, I did surrender to you, shouting out your name
For more, for more of all that you can give
For more of this hunger that for me, you do harbor
For more of this flame that I do see in your eyes, when you look at me
I then also remember of how life was by your side, a real solace
How I used to spend my time, choosing for your pleasure, my attire
How days and nights spent together felt like an eternal dance
Oh it is at those times, that I do let my tears flow
For in spite of our passion, I did choose to let go of your side
Maybe the culprit was none other than my pride
Capricious, a submissive one I could never be
All because you did abuse of my fragility
Late at night, thoughts of you, do keep me wide awake
My heart and soul do cry, for old time's sake
I do then wonder about the future
Shall you forgive me for this misbehavior?
Someday, I shall be with you again
Such was promised to me, once, when my soul cried
Oh yes, for such, I do have faith so bold and so strong
Yes, as while being in love, one can never, ever be wrong!
Contest : I Think of you
Sponsored by Gautami Phookan
12 Feb 2015
Categories:
misbehavior, dance, dream, loneliness, lost
Form:
Rhyme
They're trying to decapitate the hood magistrates,
with fabricated reasons for treasons
It's the season that we evaluate and saturate,
All those who maneuver with a false mind,
Hood occupants are tee'd off like it's golf time,
So your game needs to be up to par
because to the jails and cemetaries
too many people have lost time,
The government is microscopic on the popular,
They possess new world order style binoculars,
They're building plantations and camps
in the form of penetentiaries
to house and be the spots for the,
Most corrupted, those abducted,
from society in a variety of flavors
because misbehavior leaves us stuck with,
A bunch of years on tiers to joint suspension,
We stay inchin' through tention,
and in this hard knock life comprehension,
we discover that we're losing
in their systematic intervention,
They know that the hypnosis from dollar bills will rule us,
In a cess pool of,
deceived individuals who tryin' to glisten like a jewelers,
Metals and precious stones,
Yes it's on,
We brave enough to test the throne,
The quest is long,
And we fight until our flesh and bones,
Dissolved into the earth
We were born to die so who's next to go,
Our lives are far from festivals,
We're surrounded by people
who perform acts that are unethical,
attempting to reach the pinnacle,
Because the hood fame will excite us,
We search for the cures to hunger-itis,
What we really need is the wisdom from the providers,
Who serves the mind food
because the government is killin' us,
They're sealin' our fate with each plate to get rid of us,
They lable us outlaws, so we turn southpaw
and fight for our rights from the left like P. Whittaker,
It's hard suvivng inside their GENOCIDAL SYLLABUS,
So before you get tossed like a javelin,
Stay sharp and keep your eyes and mind travelin'
While you're in the systematic maze
to keep your life from unravelin'.
Categories:
misbehavior, abuse, africa, betrayal, black
Form:
Rhyme
"I baptized you in the name of Father
and of the Son of the Holy Spirit...."
Our relationship has began...
I was welcomed to the life of Christianity
Taught to walk and be Christ-like...
I have professed my faith but do I really know Jesus?
From Virgin Mary to God's only Begotten son...
Do I really know Him?
Do - I - really - know - Him?
I am put to shame of how I was like before...
But never have I not fully realize until then...
Unperceivable by the naked eye
Into the out-pour of trials and troubles
He remain my faithful enduring friend
To Him no pre-paid loads or high even low - signals
One heartfelt sincere whisper in the air
On the right time, always, He answered my prayer
Into raging storms, where there are brownouts or blackouts
Through His inspired writers of the Bible, I read
By His stories, His living words, light is aglow no doubt!
Down to my confusions to my staggering thoughts
I look to my surroundings: sunrises; seas, butterflies and flower buds
He is there consoling my woos, refreshing me, keeping me appease
From my weaknesses to sins I have wrongfully committed
By persons He sends, there are corrected misbehavior..
There is forgiveness, healing and whole restoration
He is my teacher; my Spirit lifter and my ultimate Savior...
I have not much of pennies and goodies
But my soul rejoices for by His amazing grace
I am provided; I am being loved
If am alone and got no one...
I close my eyes, with the gust of the wind
In the stillness of everything
He saturates me with His Holy Spirit, His Holy presence
For He is my Jesus, the Lover of my soul...
by
olive_eloi
1:42 am
04/02/2014
--------------------------------------
CONTEST: JESUS AND MARY FOR EASTER
SPONSOR: DEBBIE GUZZI
3RD PLACE, PRAISE GOD.. :)
Categories:
misbehavior, character, christian, imagery, inspiration,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
...to my Mum
She was always in the kitchen,
kneading pastry with good humour,
blending garnishes and gossip
as she plied her magic wand
and it was dinner time.
Struggling with algebra
I'd agonize for hours, 'til frustration
got the best of me, she tucked me into bed.
In the morning she was ready with
a fried egg explanation and a hug.
Music was her gift to me, along with
many others, the sound of her soprano
voice still ringing in the air,
the wrath of God was nothing to
her tantrums at my misbehavior.
Sights and smells come bursting through
as if it were just yesterday,
gentle guidance and strict admonishments,
blending like her recipes
for cakes and moral codes.
Categories:
misbehavior, mom,
Form:
Verse
Clinically dysfunctional
Is what the doctor described, as me.
I went for a 2nd opinion
To challenge his hypocrisy.
How dare he say im dysfunctional
He knows, nothing about me.
I know there are some issues,
In my own family.
Like my grandma, often runs around town.
Completely, naked as we have found.
There is an explanation, you see
She was a nudist, in the 60's
Who believed in peace, love & unity.
Then there's my brother,
what a cool dude!!
He has an "imaginary friend"
Who we call "drew"
They often come for dinner,
& hang out with, the family.
We ask him, will he ever get rid of "drew"
Since he will, soon turn 52.
My sister, I love her dearly,
Has been a career criminal
Since the age of 13.
The last crime she committed,
Was a bit, embarrassing it seems.
She stole from a homeless man,
To give to, the needy.
The family pet, that we named sasoon,
we thought was a cat,
is actually a racoon.
I could go on about my parents,
Who've been a role model, to me
Unfortunately, they are incarcerated,
In a psychiatric facility.
They will soon be out, though
Locked up since 03.
For public lewd, misbehavior
Just a lil discrepancy.
Clinically dysfunctional
No way,
That could never, be me...
contest: what annoys you
Posted 6/14/ 2013
Categories:
misbehavior, humorous,
Form:
Free verse
It's sad that I can't talk to you
Because I know that you don't care
It's always school or misbehavior
Otherwise I'm just not there
Do you know my favorite subject?
And the things I like to do?
Do you know the things I've said and done
I've never had the chance to tell you?
You probably don't see me, really
I'm just another child gone wrong
But it kills me, my greatest accomplishments
My grades, my writing, my songs
And getting over the worst struggle of all...
You don't even know it transpired
She noticed my pain, and hugged me close
But to you, I was merely tired
Hey Daddy, what's my favorite color?
What do I like to do?
Daddy, you never let me tell
But you tell me all about you
And you talk to my sisters constantly
You go in and kiss them goodnight
Even though my room is right next door
You never make sure I'm alright
I know that it's wrong for me to cry
About something that's not as bad
As other people go through in their lives
But I love you, I need you Dad...
If I asked you what you knew of me
I wonder what you would say
If anything, I'd never ask
Because I know you'd turn me away
Categories:
misbehavior, confusion, depression, father, me,
Form:
Lyric
Angry words have fear-mongering consequences,
said rhetorical behaviorist Hillary,
then Kamala, to Donald,
we would no more peacefully
and compassionately select a Donald Trump as President
than we would bipartisan co-invest to win Donald Duck for Empire Builder.
Words mean things,
said linguistic behaviorist Anat
to her fellow Economist Collective,
and the absence of kind words means something too.
We're not sure what
but I place my bet
on more discommunicating eco-political
ego-apartisanship.
FatherSun enlightenment led toward EarthMother liquidity.
We know this from our indigenous history
of Yang/Yin Win/Win
environmental science books
but this is difficult to see
how exactly this could be
without sufficient silence to recall
what dipolar co-arising energies lie in wait
within this shared bilateral brilliance.
Fire and water,
progenitors of stardust
eco-empowering,
sacred ecologizing
fertile organic planets
birthing health moisturized wealthy regenerations.
To paraphrase bodhisattva Joanna Macy,
Co-invested communing economics
is not more wishful monopolistic thinking
(or messianic ideation).
Active political gathering verbs
enlightening sacred habitats
do not wait for renowned
divisive
drowned-out
dis-organic trauma issues
to be reverently resurrected
and religiously re-membered
by monoculturing Donald Ducks
or by some Anti-Other quacking
self-serving colonization
of patriarchal monotheistic
discommunicating misbehavior.
Active Hope wakes up in love-life's ecological
EarthMother baptismal beauty
wonder
fertile light and flowing power sabbath
on who's silently communing behalf
we can act in sacred light
for animated
organic
polyamorous co-empowerment.
To the responsible Hillaries, and Kamalas:
Follow positively cooperative light,
not so much darkly threatening
reactively monolithic
swampy miscommunication.
To the authoritarian Donalds:
Follow your competitively brilliant
SunFather responsive truth
with EarthMother beauty
loves polyculturing liquidity,
not so much your prized
monopolistic
and monotheistic
anthro-patriarchal
discommunicating fear and anger
military-industrialized pathologies.
Categories:
misbehavior, beauty, health, hope, light,
Form:
Political Verse
A bitter, highly addictive drug,
A narcotic, known to relieve pain that drag
Induces sleep or dullness in a medicinal doses,
Yet if consumed in excessive and uncontrolled doses,
May produce convulsions, coma or even death...
A man in perfect suit, a respectful company owner,
No one can imagine he deals with this act ever,
Yet narcotic is in his blood, put my friend into misconduct
She was narcotize by this dignified man's act,
Opted for her addiction, which stupefy her, put her in a shock!
She is deeply in love that she ruined a family who is intact,
She fought her best, believing his words as damn fact,
She ignored mocks, even her family is set to cast
She brought her credibility in shameful scenario,
Enduring people's judgement, had her painful future typecast!
Now, I see her in miserable life,
Alcoholic and drawn herself to narcotics
Just to fill her lover's addiction of sexual misbehavior
Beating her in every moment they do their deed
Tying her up, enduring the pain of cigarette burning her skin...
Damn man, damn opium!
Damn love, damn lust
Choices sometimes put anyone in disgrace
Opium lures ones mind, destroying ones life
How many are into this, making it as their escape?
Sometimes, we are blinded with so much love and lust
Doing everything for the person we believe will love us likewise
Withstanding the bitterness of pain and mistrust
Casting away own dignity in disgust!
Ahhh...when a woman loves a man...who am i to judge?
Categories:
misbehavior, abuse, addiction, anti bullying,
Form:
Rhyme Royal
He gave me a strong impact,
with his gift for immemorial gestures;
he embraced the sick and handicapped
he kissed the soil of the nation on his first vist.
As an occupant of the Chair of St Peter,
he brought the world, a message to everyone
his defense for the poor, a substance to carry on
as a church in her journey across cultures.
The awesome volume of his writings,
reveal the kind of pope he was
as a theologian suffused with faith;
as a philosopher endowed with reason.
In his very person, he was charismatic
as a teacher and defender of faith,
he set new directions, left a legacy
and continued the Roman Curia, multicultural.
On themes expounded in his documents,
speeches, homilies and reflections,
he brought the Gospel vis-a-vis the Magisterium
in all spheres that concern contemporary life.
As the first non-Italian pope in 455 years,
since the Netherlander Hadrian VI in 1552
and ever since his election to papacy,
by any measure, he’s a man for all seasons.
Albeit, he’d his disappointments,
his own share of sorrows over clergy in misbehavior –
the scandal of sexual abuse, particularly in this nation,
he remained firm and prayerful as a leader.
In spite of his frailty, Parkinson’s disease and other ailments
he continued his journey with deep faith and sacrifice.
his interreligious relations made a difference,
he visited mosques, synagogues and convened those other leaders.
He canonized saints more than 470 of them,
he beatified more than a thousand men and women.
such a milestone in the life of our Catholicism,
the call to holiness woven in discipleship.
He impressed believers of every faith
with his greatness in many ways;
like one of his favorite phrases,
quoting what St Augustine once said,
“Vobis sum episcopus, vobiscum christianus,”
he celebrated life, helped shape Christendom
with analyses of countless human lives.
Categories:
misbehavior, death, dedication, faith, hope,
Form:
Narrative