Best Nauseam Poems
("Howling Rock", City of Rocks, 2016)
Hate Speech
My dogs bark into the night
scared and excited about something in the dark
coyotes or deer or maybe just their own shadows.
It makes me think of ‘Hate Speech’
laying in bed wishing I could get back to sleep.
I think how I may not like what they have to say,
but will defend their right to say it.
Except in this case, Not!
as I know, being just dogs I can control their speech.
All it takes is letting them in,
distracting them with a little comfort and security.
I think about the absurdity of ‘Hate Speech’ in humanity
the criminalization of thoughts and feelings
expressed as passionate, desperate, fearful cries in the dark.
The absurdity of the arbitrariness of it all,
just like with the dogs,
regardless if their cries are justified or not
it all comes down to if I want to hear it or not.
And right now I don’t.
It used to be you couldn’t speak badly about the powerful,
the lords and priests and those above your station.
Today the tides have changed
and you can’t speak badly about those without power,
the persecuted, weak, unwashed, unwanted and apparently so inferior
they need protection, even from mere words.
But of course this will change
as today’s powerful become tomorrow's persecuted
and vice a versa, so on, and so forth, ad nauseam.
In the night the dogs are quiet
settled now into their beds.
It’s a peaceful silent night
with snow all around, just how I like it.
And even if I’m still not getting any sleep
it’s some consolation to be the one in power
controlling the kind of violent speech I hate
imposing the kind of peaceful silence I want.
Of course, nobody cares what I think,
Lord of all I survey,
except the dogs.
And thank goodness for the dogs.
(12/4/23)
Categories:
nauseam, dog, humanity, humor, night,
Form:
Narrative
Love poems, how trite they become.
Their hackneyed themes we want to scream.
We purposely shy away from
That genre, teeming so it seems
With grandiloquent, large supplies
Of conjured words with empty rings
Of cheating hearts and love that dies.
Ad nauseam is all it brings.
We wish just once that we could read
Where love’s expressed differently:
Brand new verses that supersede
Love’s banal themes in poetry.
Love-lost poems are sickening
But most of all they are boring.
Categories:
nauseam, lost love, on writing
Form:
Rhyme
Hiya, Bin doodling some lines over the
last few weeks, decided to post to see if
anyone shares my way of thinking .
Notes to Self on Poetry Writing
On the beginning
Is easy as the first line hit’s the page
Then comes the falters of the language rage
Inspired in a flash then blunts the brain
That blots the copy, leaves a filthy stain
How maddening, this crazy convolute
Contrived to keep all fixed and absolute
On the desire
For drama free, add, ad nauseam
No good was ever written by the glum
Nor happy hearts whom on fair wind would sail
Is needed more, to face uncertain gale
The chopping of the heart, the soul left bare
Live life and then return, with truth to share
On content
Oh yes be sure, unburden of that load
That weighs so heavy going down life’s road
Take care to leave no mystery unturned
Written well, then pleasure you have earned
Be Narcissus, Venus, maybe even Thor
But for PS sake, never be a bore
On ending
Confetti words strewn like varnished rain
Be set in place, the hordes to entertain
By chance alone, one mortal you may reach
That has not read a very similar speech
Then as the final dash and dot, be penned
Be wondering, do I write or I pretend
On reviews
Would Poe, his patience short, be long remain?
No doubt, of me would slate and scream disdain
Or Shakespeare, even in his lightest mood
Describe my efforts as, criminally crude
And Pope, be sitting there with shaking head
His thought, I write this comment but with dread
Hahaha, much like you are now I expect.
Categories:
nauseam, poetry, writing,
Form:
Couplet
We'll start from the beginning
A little bit of Ah and Awe
Sound out the consequential consonants
Speak low? Speak up!
Don't forget to roll your R's!
First verbs in present tension
Know your diphthongs and declensions
Vocabulary, adjectives, et, ad nauseam
That doesn't sound right
Did you forget to roll your R's?
Soon we practice in the forum
Painting words with such decorum
Past to present, transitive to direct objects
I object to this torture
Now don't forget to roll your R's..
Are we fluent yet? What?
No you can't give up on the Ovid just yet!
This is ridiculous, why not take Spanish instead of her mother
Good thing you can roll your R's
------------
This might not fall under Didactic...but I wasn't entirely sure. I'm not an expert.
This is kinda how I feel while taking Latin lessons.
Categories:
nauseam, language, silly,
Form:
Didactic
I am a Beast— I dwell in the Realm of Hunger.
Once upon a time, when I was younger,
Some enchantment did enfold
My heart in frozen, icy cold;
And my world became a prism—
Mirror image of a schism
Deep within my very being.
Soon all I was ever seeing
Was the surface of a looking glass…
I could not break this curse— alas—
Now I’m a Beast all shun and damn.
Though surrounded with wealth, ad nauseam,
I lack the treasures of the heart;
And I am doomed to live apart
From everyone. There is only
One way to save me from being the lonely,
Ugly, stupid Beast you see…
Someone beautiful must love me.
But that’s impossible, I know all too well.
And there’s nothing else that can break this spell.
~ Harley White
[From: One Two Three a Trilogy – One – “Beauty and the Beast” – my rendering in musical theater – based on versions by Madame de Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot Villleneuve (1740) and Jeanne-Marie Leprince de Beaumont (1756)]
Categories:
nauseam, animal, beauty, fairy, fantasy,
Form:
Verse
the sloth yawns at time
inert, as listless minutes
turn wasted hours to years
work is left undone
avoided like a poison
the very thought, repugnant
the useless hand rules
in sluggish monotony
repeated “ad nauseam”
hear the weary sighs
a disinterest in ideas
thinking takes too much effort
how dull the moments
how easy to lay around
drearily, suffocating
and so the sloth goes
through blank, barren idleness
wallowing in stagnancy
Written on 10/23/2018
Categories:
nauseam, character,
Form:
Choka
One fine day Abraham
Wanted to send a candygram
All the way to Amsterdam
Sweets ad nauseam
Weighed by kilogram
All he could cram
In a huge box stamped with a monogram
This is the price said Ma’am
What’s wrong need a diagram
Abraham was in a jam
Had no cash felt like a ham
Meeker than a lamb
Thought he better scram
Postpone the candygram
Bad credit is debit card’s anagram
AP: 3rd place 2025, Honorable Mention 2020, Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on March 3, 2018
Categories:
nauseam, adventure, candy, fun, word
Form:
Monorhyme
though different types same as in the begining
liken to eve's death by deception to lead astray through omitting
advertisements a sorrowful conception Latin for advert men's minds
in times past hid not their agenda but a war alliance
what a crime from grace and truth they desire the old wine
for this world will pass away along with the junk science system
propaganda a science falsely so called for the worldly wisdom
ad nauseam it should make you nauseous the big lie to us
repeated enough times, may begin to be taken as the truth.
you should know this one as you speak truth from under the bus
ad hominem your character under fire not the truth in question
do not get on their band wagon for straight is the gate
narrow is the way not a factoid in fact the right direction
love thy neighbor speaking the truth every man his mate
turning my cheek are weapons not carnal not a straw man's reflection
tares deceiving and being deceived spin doctors reproduce
to list a few from double speak easy's false store front's
as seen on T.V. a cult a personality they are reduced
with contradiction's the common man bares the brunt
they are waving false flags like freedom is not free
for this your forgiving love they call you odd
sporting them selves wise oh can you see
for this one nation and all under the true God
they try to lead you astray in the land of the free
Categories:
nauseam, allegory, faith, political, religion,
Form:
Rhyme
Sunshine grows men on ropes
Similar with metaphors and similes
And cold plastic smiles.
Slim, shiny, at first slimy, Then…
Then mass produced body index
Fat and hypertension deficit syndrome-o-matic.
Failure due to faulty, underfunded, cheap union labor parts.
Broken and glued
taped back
to the semi-flaccid meat bag’s parts
Ad nauseam,
But worth regurgitating
for the sake of curiosity’s infinite lives.
Will you spare a tired old man a dozen redbirds?
All dead and empty.
Ad nauseam.
Entering ourselves head first, strong
Into the green-blue gluttonous mausoleum nausoleum
With fancy golden embryo.
Embryo cold ,
with teeth chattering loose,
Broken from gnawing the misconceived development
Of a prenatal worm-child.
The background was aforementioned “Thus”.
Inter-missionary positions
on all seeing eyed pyramids
Connect myriads of the labyrinth.
Run for cover before the light breaks the shadow fault line
Of what is right and what is written
Because I can’t bear to tell you what is wrong.
Sunshine grows ropes on men
different from the same old, same old.
Mad at the world because like opinions and ideas and optimism
And a general surety of a done deal.
Nothing is relative to Uncle Certain.
Just Aunt Be.
Hollow minds can only feed hollow stomachs
From the, “Why did they even come here?”
Go back home to your party fanciful.
If you think it’s you then why are you still here
Under the tree that shades us from falling
Birthmark razorblade sweet tarts.
It all starts over and over.
Categories:
nauseam, community, corruption, growth, life,
Form:
Free verse
Most of the masses are gullible they swallow what their fed.
They feed on exotic canards, prejudice and fibs. Alcohols
Imbibed to dull the aftertaste and nothing goes to waste.
From birth to death it never changes each robbed of true identity
By unseen malevolent minds who sow these seeds of animosity,
Enmity and lies; all poisoned zombies (the living dead) who
Roam the earth mindlessly in numbers that are mind-boggling
To those of us still left. We often watch and hear their rants-
Dissonance of ad-libbed, ad nauseam and pledging of dead hearts
While humming individual anthems ad infinitum plus a day.
Follow what we say
Never, ever as we do
That’s our golden rule.
Categories:
nauseam, philosophy
Form:
Haiku
Stuck within a sea of cars,
There’s nothing you can do.
You crawl ahead as brake lights lift,
But there’s no getting through.
Signs inform you of delays
But that won’t move you faster.
How much time ‘til you get home
Depends on the disaster.
So you drive and hit the brakes
Ad nauseam and wonder
When the traffic sea will part
And lift the cloud you’re under.
‘Til that time, frustration mounts
And tempers start to flare.
All this time’s a’wasting
And you’re here instead of there.
Hopefully, there’ll be a break
And cars will start to flow.
Then, at last, you’ll get to where
You’d always hoped to go.
Categories:
nauseam, car, city,
Form:
Rhyme
I'm wide awake, listening to the roar.
My musings become a glowing rainbow.
I lie pique designing vile dreams offshore.
I dream of an ominous sky shadow
Away from the ad nauseam skid row.
As political cases broach their peak.
To load airwaves with the rowdy prevail
Irritating and feeble header seek
While I slept, I grasped the heaven exhale
Moans were roundly rejected by the meek
Written: February 1st 2022
Categories:
nauseam, anti bullying, confusion, freedom,
Form:
Dizain
Ubiquity is, oh, … always aggravating to me
Since I’ve bought one, I see them everywhere
If I choose a new, strange, exotic word to use
It pops up in everyone’s poem, well, I’ll swear,
If I go to Timbuktu, everyone’s going there!
Catchwords, catchphrases - repeat ad nauseam
Becoming ubiquitous in everyone’s everyday
Soon will grate upon our sensitive, creative ears
Nothing so irritates as a meaningless cliché
To hear this over and over, “I want it my way!”
Whatever happened to uniquity, that one-of-a-kind?
So prized to be exclusive and unlike any other,
Not given to repetition like so many fads,
Pointed out for special notice by even one’s mother
Not likely to grow old and less likely to smother.
THIRD PLACE WINNER
Written November 2, 2022
submitted to "Writing Challenge - Unburden a 'U' Word" Poetry Contest
sponsored by Constance La France
Categories:
nauseam, spoken word, words,
Form:
Rhyme
You see them perched in windows
Of so many types of stores
But really, they don’t blend at all
In anyone’s decors.
They range in size from tiny
To those taking lots of space,
All with the same expression – blank!
Imprinted on each face.
One waving paw moves up and down
Ad nauseam, to me,
I guess to greet the passersby
In perpetuity.
It blows my mind how such a fad
Gains traction and persists.
My hat goes off to every shop
With keeper who resists.
Categories:
nauseam, fashion,
Form:
Rhyme
Away from the areas of complete ad nauseam
As political cases grasp a zenith of their corium
To utterly saturate the airwaves with information
Each other's obnoxious and feeble description.
I'm fully aware, listening to the unrelenting billow
My musings have been integrated into a rainbow
I lay, awake sketching vilifications of people's dignity
I dream of a gloomy sky shadowing the faltered fury.
As yet, they now sway the bulk of a mulish minority
Putting fervor on the beliefs is harming harmony
Watching the slivers of the sky inhale, I kept awake
It mocks and taunts the deconstruction for its sake.
Tumbling off, staggering forward, void and murkiness
It was benign alighting and utterly scatting aimless
The previous prone events will disturb our spirit
The harshness of the truth is infused to arrant inhibit.
While a million nights of misery had engulfed people
I'm startled by the screams of forefathers over beguile
I'm on high alert; grant heed to the rumble of my valiance
Where did all this anger come from that incited violence?
A significant alteration has been performed.
Concussion healing occurred as a result of a storm
Whatever happens, our promises will be crammed
One irksome outlay may entice us all to the lowland.
Written: January 27, 2022
Pick-A-Title, Vol 28 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Categories:
nauseam, analogy, bereavement, caregiving, change,
Form:
Rhyme