Best Notoriously Poems
If you are plagued with dragons in your basement,
And you have tried, without success, to drive them out.
If you need advice and dragon information,
That's what this short discourse is all about.
Now, you can't depend on pest exterminators,
Unless, perhaps, you call Saint George himself,
And pied pipers are of very little value,
As all dragons are notoriously tone deaf.
Since the riddance of house dragons is a hassle
That you might not be prepared to suffer through,
You might find compromise and coexistence
Is the sensiblest thing that you can do.
The rumor that all dragons are ferocious,
Is a rumor we could not substantiate.
As to whether they are prone to making mischief,
Its a subject that's still open to debate.
Some say dragons are quite friendly creatures.
Why, I've heard that they make gentle, loving pets,
And it's said that if one treats them with affection,
The great, scaly fellows never will forget.
But if you choose a dragon as a house pet,
Your fire insurance rates are sure to soar,
Unless you teach your dragon not to hiccup,
And to breathe into the furnace when he snores.
On the feeding of domesticated dragons
(We have saved this information till the end):
They feed mainly on bad dreams and mustang nightmares,
And a local politician now and then.
Witches in my gardens, blessing them.
Using their notoriously generous green thumbs to help repot the plants snatched out by gray wind yesterday.
Witches, welcome! So grateful you have arrived!
Thank you for showing me the old one’s ways to grow the best thyme and basil possible.
The magic you bestow upon my garden, humbles me, and my daughters, and my daughters’ daughters.
To no one do harm, your motto, your creed. I know you in no way resemble the tales of
Witches in faerie tales, rather, mother earth faeries who got a bad rap because you followed
Your dreams and went your own ways in a patriarchal society. Scaring women who were afraid of your
Unseemly ways.
I am honored you chose my garden, bestowing your experience and your wizen ways
Upon my plants. Thank you, Witch sisters! Welcome!
Wordless worries wander wearily working wayward,
Towards thoughts transgressing truth’s textured tide.
As always acknowledging agnosticism’s appeal,
Essence easily evaporates, exeunt Emile.
Very virtuous violent vowels vociferously validate,
Sanctimonious sessions some subtly sacrosanct.
Is it in incrementally immense ingenious imaginations,
Or ontology’s omniscience overcoming oceanic oratory?
Roughly rallying rage’s recessive righteousness,
Quickly quartered queens quietly quiver qualities quoi.
Under unctuous undeniably Umbrian utterances,
An astute and acute awareness as always arose.
Placing plausibly proverbial prevaricating predications,
Many morose morally myopic manly mighty men,
Eulogize everlasting ephemerally entertaining evocations.
Insinuating incredible implications, insomnia initiates,
Notably nullifying notoriously negligible nihilistic necessities.
Lies lay low, linking lofty linguistic lessons like laws,
Of optional opportunities oscillating on occult overtures
Until underlying unctions unify ubiquitous unknowns.
Joyless Joseph’s joyful Joy just jumped, just jumped!
Killing killjoy knuckle kosher korma koranic krap.
And announce another anonymous anodyne appointment?
(Empiricism’s emphatic emission, enter erotic Eloise).
Having Heidegger helps, hope’s homunculi hunting human.
Get gone ginger guesses, go grope Ginger’s grapes!
Immaculately ironic inquisitions instigate immediate impositions.
Once onto opaque ominous orbs, obey Oracles open orders.
Framing funny fractions, flaming far flung frivolous fictions,
Death defies dollar damnations, deliciously done devaluations.
Usually uncle umpire understands useful underlying ululations,
Also affirming apples avuncular altruistic assumptions.
Creeds crave caves, charms calm cause, come conquerors,
Be belligerently bad, betray birth’s beginning, balance budgets.
Entreating entirely empty, emphatically elusive, existential entelechy,
Is, importantly, incommensurably idiotic, inexplicably impractical indeed.
Elizabeth Taylor known as "Liz'
Her acting skills and violet eyes make her a star in show biz
Jewelry was her passion, but her simple kindness was the jewel that made her shine
Married eight times (to Richard twice), no man captivated by her it seems could decline.
Richard Walter Jenkins aka Richard Burton
One of the best actors in his time with Welch good looks that was certain
A notoriously heavy drinker and smoker caused him to die fairly young
Married five times (to Liz twice), diaries of their personal life have recently been sprung.
*Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton had two volatile marriages to each other.
Even though they had love and passion it's a prime example of how keeping a marriage together requires more than loving someone.
For PD's Clerihew days, are back........ Poetry Contest
A fish flew out of the water.
Nobody knew why until he spoke,
he carried a warning for Mankind.
The fish looked human.
I need to talk to the CEO's, he said.
They came, the fish spoke.
If you don’t stop making and throwing plastics,
trash and garbage in the oceans, seas, and rivers,
your planet will die.
Captains of Industry be wary you who create the products that pollute
Do you think you’re safe?
Take note that when you see the small of life disappear
life in the oceans and seas will vanish,
the demise of rivers replete with pestilence will dry up
the human race will then take its turn at being extinct
You have made billions at the expense of life on earth,
receiving a billion dollars for every life you sacrificed
billions you were sure were safely tucked away in hide-a-way banks
But now, your life and family are destroyed by a war you financed
doesn't give you much consolation does it, Mr. Businessman?
Your insatiable greed finally won out.
No living creature is left, cities and forests have been decimated
no place left to spend your well planned looting;
you could have saved many lives
Except you didn’t care
your endless greedy pursuit to increase profits
condemned the world to the black hole of extinction
You financed the annihilation of all living creatures
As you were killing the world, you also set in motion
the removal of Man’s historical struggle from the story of the Universe
Making Man a thing that never was and never existed
In this impending historical vacuum, Man became collateral damage
the term you notoriously used to justify your murderous behavior.
Even now, engulfed in the fires of Hell,
you seek absolution through deals, but your reasoning is false
Lucifer welcomes your ilk, he's proud of you but he makes no deals
With souls he already has in his bag.
Janus-faced, Jekyll and Hyde—ever revealing, ever concealing,
Uncompromising, stubborn yet humble and yielding
Notoriously sly yet sunny; playful and youthfully mature,
Ephemeral in spirit, fickle in love, nomadic in nature.
~June 8th
~08/08/2015
Amidst the treasures of beauty that one can ever witness,
I was leisurely enjoying an exotic cuisine in evening's tranquillity.
A mystical forest it was, covered with magical trees
that blossomed crystal flowers flashing colorful neon lights
and gilded leaves playing a divine music swaying in the breeze.
Cascades of flowing glittery gums secreted from the silvery barks,
forming a pool in the middle that was softly burning with
ruby embers while it emitted heavenly surge of scent.
I was sitting on a grand table and chair abstractly designed
with rainbow moonstone; adorned with glowing moss.
Meal on crockery made of shells was served by spellbinding nymphs
as they joined me not to eat but to feed me with their tender hands.
It was a bursting riot of tasty food that rampaged my tongue
with wanting more and I couldn't stop until my heart was pleased.
I took a sip of invigorating mocktail made of mint, dew and nectar.
Cheers to me! I uttered with sheer joy as it quenched my thirst forever.
And splash, splotches of tap water drenched my clothes,
my hands raised in the air with an empty cheap glass
as the bubble of my daydream bursts in a notoriously shameful way.
In an ugly small eatery, sitting on a broken dirty table crowded with
more people than a bus can hold, staring at me with their raging glares
as if they want to kill me because the cheered up splash of my drink
not only drenched me but also spoiled mine and their hard earned food.
What can I say...quite a costly little daydream it was.
Date: 01/18/2016
Note: The daydream is real but the incident is fictitious.
Entered in two different contests:
A lovely little daydream by Mystic Rose - *Placed Sixth*
Alternative festive season by Kai Michael Neumann - *Placed Fifth*
Adulterous besieging capstone damnation
exploitation foists groping, heaving
insidiously jerking
knowingly lunges
machinations notoriously nymphomaniacal
officiating penile quests
rapaciously, sadistically
tenaciously, unstoppably
vasocongested wickedness
Xerses yawped zeolously.
***************************
All throughout history of man/woman kind
ascendent civilizations extensively gouged,
impailed, kindled, murderous outrages
quashing sacred urges, women yearned.
***************************
Versatile thematic refrain punctuating nubiles
maximized looting, pillaging, raping
visited upon females via decimating fountainhead
guarding brestworks of vestal virgins,
innocent youths (little boys and girls).
***************************
Twenty first century *****Sapiens male population continue to applaud, covet, extol, gloat, invoke, kickstart, molest outrages, quest savagely thee unbridled wedded yoke appropriating coquettishly enshrined gals imposing killing mandates okaying queasy sordid ugly wretchedness yanking aborhent behavior denigrating, fulminating, harrassing, jawdropping lewdness, nabbing prized rearends, twerking, violently whiplashing, yelling zingers.
***************************
Now not a day elapses with instances women claim untoward advances, and/or forced coercion to satiate and temporarily slate the sexual thirst informing prononced picadilloes (philandering if married pompous head honcho demands appeasement of coitus, ********, indecent lowball outrageous ribald uncouth x-rated animalistic, carnal, feral, gonadal, immoral, kleptomaniacally misogynistic, narcissistic, opportunistic, pathetically reprehensible, torturously undervaluing, validating virility within Yankee Doodle, haply lambasting, proudly touting, vaunted wayfair zest.
***************************
The above meandering stream of consciousness attempted to amplify, a recent spate of accusations figuratively slapped against a male sex mongers, who specifically rule roost, and blithely, demandingly, forcefully, hideously, impishly, killingly, malignantly, opprobriously, powerfully, repeatedly, terminally, vindictively, wantonly, yearningly acrimoniously belittle, demean flagrantly, harshly insinuate keeping mindful, not publicize rabid tawdry unwanted villainous withering zeal!
AUTISTIC
You want me to figure you out...
Well, I ask you, did you yourself?
Have you figured out YOU?
I am still young, I know, and I can
Analyze inanimate objects
Write blogposts, essays and poems
Occupy myself endlessly with a
twirling thing catching sunlight.
But figuring someone out is not
one of my strong characteristics.
I am an autist.
We are notoriously bad at that!
Let me tell you one thing though:
This question of yours?
My psychiatrist would probably say
that:
a) you like people to look into your soul or
b) you're incredibly unaware of yourself or
c) you seek confirmation on a hunch.
But then again, as I already said,
I am an autist.
I am notoriously bad figuring someone out.
I am a very lovable autist though!
Peace out.
***
8th place in contest: See if you have me figured out.
Sponsor: Richard Lamoureux.
October 28, 2016
It’s so important to practice what you preach
Although you might not realize you are at fault,
Self-examination appears to be beyond your reach.
Hypocrites are notoriously taken for a grain of salt
Seeing in others what you cannot see in yourself,
Although you might not realize you are at fault.
Take your Holy Bible down from its topmost shelf
Study the Sermon on the Mount and the Golden Rule
Seeing in others what you cannot see in yourself.
Being two-faced leaves you open to abject ridicule
Folks won’t give to your soliloquies much respect
Study the Sermon on the Mount and the Golden Rule.
Being double-tongued folks will have come to expect
Your words do not match your observable behavior,
Folks won’t give to your soliloquies much respect.
Please don’t try to manipulate by quoting the Savior
It’s so important to practice what you preach,
Your words do not match your observable behavior
Self-examination appears to be beyond your reach.
Written June 23, 2022
Don’t go hunting the Elemu
They love to run wild and free
And I doubt that you’ll even glimpse one
For they are invisible you see
Don’t go hunting the Elemu
They really are loving and kind
And these lovable creatures
Are notoriously difficult to find
Don’t go hunting the Elemu
They are the shy and retiring type
They’ll simply hide and avoid you
They really hate the hype
Don’t go hunting the Elemu
You’ll not find one any way
The last one left for London Town
Just the other day
LET’S TALK ABOUT YOUR BUM
Let’s talk about your bum,
If you open it they will come.
Stand up to the big guys,
Pack a punch,
The quicker-picker-upper;
One for everyone.
Let’s talk about your bum.
Who wants a cold one?
The further you go the more
interesting it gets.
Give 110%.
Clean, dry, fresh, always,
Now that’s better;
There when you really need it.
Ride hard or go home.
We make cleaning cleaner,
The world’s your playground.
Let’s talk about your bum,
It’s amazing what you’re capable of,
You can do more,
Make more happen.
You can do anything,
Let’s do this,
It does a body good,
Notoriously good.
Let’s talk about your bum.
Why not grab some?
When you’re here you’re almost there.
It’s go time!
You’re richer than you think.
Let’s talk about your bum.
We are farmers, bum-da-dum
ba-bum-bum-bum.
We’re not comfortable until you are,
* NOTE: I cannot (and will not) take credit for any of the lines in this poem, they are all taglines from TV commercials; you probably recognized some of them. My only creative contribution was the order in which they appear. I hope you laugh at the absurdity as I did writing it.
Riotous revellers' laughter drifts up from their apricot lit late night haunts, four cafes are notoriously avoided venues for overindulgent consumption of alcohol.
Across the street, from my thirtieth floor apartment window, remote portrait of bodies bent enthralled over their beers,
toads on stools at mushroom stem tables.
Flicker of forbidden recognition crosses my cortex,
- I'm a resident of Broadwater Tower now.
Unstated policy prohibits proximity with riff raff.
Our bar ensures we wear careful attire,
floor gleams mirror marble.
Chrome and cracked leather oud absorbs expensive scents.
Ladies laughter upscale conflicts the low fading mens' vocal.
Tipsy sensation enhanced by deck docked
rolling prestigious flagpole chiming yachts.
Over the road, neolithic neon signs post grotesque cafe names,
Salivate, Green Grotto among them.
Customers come from squat squashed suburbs,
five minute drive away.
Dive bar dark sparks alcoholic amphibians unremarkable bravado.
January holiday season sees sardines huddled heartily under awnings, abandoning next morning necessity.
24th February 2023
151 words
Written for Contest: Four Cafes
Sponsor: Julia Ward
A loaded pistol,
With youthful courage till yesteryear;
Now lies naked and dormant,
And Is found to be lifeless and dead.
Somewhere, buried in my Junkyard,
Playfully tested till now in all arms to shame;
As it shyly, blushes and whispers to admit,
Murmuring its helplessness into my ears.
Ooh! My Childhood friend,
It feels like an impotent;
To be so bullet-less today.
My Golden days have all ended,
Life has become so ignorant now;
As I've become so bullet-less today.
As the pendulum constantly oscillates,
Time has traded fast on twenty wheels;
Looking for some good fortune in distant lands.
And a store-room in my backyard,
Has always remained the same;
And is still kept unchanged.
But never was any eye caught,
Not even mine;
To drool upon the nozzle of that Gun;
Like the way I used to do,
Used to lovingly do before.
Strolling down my kindergarten alley,
When a Gun was gifted on a bright Christmas morning;
It used to amaze me in my childhood days,
As I so excitedly unwrapped and got it out;
From the mysterious and magical White socks,
Which was hung on my bed; Hung all night,
Waiting for a snowy white beard old man;
A laughing sage in an exception;
Who lived on the mystical hill-side view,
Of my Steel city.
Today, after so many years,
A long craved sight fell upon it;
And it instantly drove me back,
To flash my childhood nostalgic days.
When infant Army camps used to settle,
To battle in the air for all day long;
Under the densely old,
Never claimed tree by anybody - 'Our Mango Tree'.
Ooh! How then this pistol fakingly killed,
So many nappie buddies of mine.
Who played and just acted,
To be dead as my enemies.
Ooh..! How strangely it feels like,
A game of now.
When today the lil' me gazing at any topic,
Sitting in my backyard;
Stumbled and pondered to find,
An old vintage Shot-gun of mine.
So curiously digging the wearily torn school bag,
Hanging since ages on the dampened wall.
Ooh..! So clueless, I fumbled upon,
An old vintage Shotgun of mine.
Dumped and buried under thousand other,
Essential antique toys of mine;
Which notoriously has got rotten in rust.
In closed walls of adolescence,
Where white parchments seeps overall;
From moist doors of yesterday,
Ooh..! How strangely it still feels like today.
Mother nature’s trees shudder in the breeze,
Clothed in ashened sky,bearing angry eye.
The winds conversation with birds to flock,
Branches of two trees interlock.
Angry eye is sporting black,
The fight for supremacy notoriously back.
Rabbits and squirrels retreat with their fear,
As an audience of trees lean as they peer.
Returning bird to referee,
The elderly tree resumes paying his fee.
His younger capture boasting minus concern,
As he thrashes with heavy twist and turn.
Wind is bullying close behind,
The elderly tree disadvantaged,he finds.
He creaks and groans,bleeding his sap,
Gentleman of the forest lye dead in rivers lap.
Succeeding opponent standing proud,
As a silent applause was never so loud.
Wisdom now is all that remains,
As the woodcutter starts to sharpen his blades.
Tightened by rope in the woodcutters truck,
It’s not the end,he’s back in luck!
Now he’s sitting front of house,
In a swanky restaurant in London Town.
All admire as they prop,
If only they knew the story from the top.
As they sip their drinks with chatter,
A distant sound of trees will clatter.