Best Perfidious Poems
Smiling Spitting Deadly Sins
Son of the Devil evil and twisted when his mask falls away
Through the curtains of death he turns truth into dark lies
With horrible shadows haunting over Love's light so pure
As jealousy reveals shades of a Soul’s envy at this moment
Cunningly you crawl behind colors pride with selfish hurting
Innocence casting stones—the fruits of a hideous lurking evil
Filling you with stupid silly emotions crying crocodile tears
Hate is your playground game as the Dark One takes his souls
Weeping from the deep wounds inflicted on others at your wish
While fighting one lost battle as your words burn from the ugly
Fork of your tongue while spitting venom they become a vile
Poison in which every last drop makes one’s very skin crawl
When I see the light of truth awakening in your Soul’s eyes
I really see a Hell-Fire scorching red hot who is the real you
Your pretty tongue of thy father speaks the evil words of the
King of Lies to my heart as it is touched by the serpent’s rasp
Yet ever you can never always hide behind this perfidious mask
And such words of beauty will not always hide what lies within
The darkest outreaches of your Soul’s descent into damnation
For Love itself is a journey of the gentle divine and the innocent
But those who breathe the Hell-Fire can only fool us all so long
And when their mask falls away they speak with a serpent’s tongue
So vile and gruesome that they know not of Love as they strike and
Bring eternal pain holding the Devil’s sword with their blackened hand
Causing pain with greatest relish as they laugh heartily at the pain
Inflicted on others not really knowing what they hold in their hand
In hate and anger while striking out at all innocent souls as their
Double-edged sword waits for those from the depths of Hell itself
Gary Bateman, Liam McDaid, and Michael Clarke
A Collaborated Poem, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
August 9, 2015 (Unrhymed Quatrain)
Smiling Spitting Deadly Sins
Son of the Devil evil and twisted when his mask falls away
Through the curtains of death he turns truth into dark lies
With horrible shadows haunting over Love's light so pure
As jealousy reveals shades of a Soul’s envy at this moment
Cunningly you crawl behind colors pride with selfish hurting
Innocence casting stones—the fruits of a hideous lurking evil
Filling you with stupid silly emotions crying crocodile tears
Hate is your playground game as the Dark One takes his souls
Weeping from the deep wounds inflicted on others at your wish
While fighting one lost battle as your words burn from the ugly
Fork of your tongue while spitting venom they become a vile
Poison in which every last drop makes one’s very skin crawl
When I see the light of truth awakening in your Soul’s eyes
I really see a Hell-Fire scorching red hot who is the real you
Your pretty tongue of thy father speaks the evil words of the
King of Lies to my heart as it is touched by the serpent’s rasp
Yet ever you can never always hide behind this perfidious mask
And such words of beauty will not always hide what lies within
The darkest outreaches of your Soul’s descent into damnation
For Love itself is a journey of the gentle divine and the innocent
But those who breathe the Hell-Fire can only fool us all so long
And when their mask falls away they speak with a serpent’s tongue
So vile and gruesome that they know not of Love as they strike and
Bring eternal pain holding the Devil’s sword with their blackened hand
Causing pain with greatest relish as they laugh heartily at the pain
Inflicted on others not really knowing what they hold in their hand
In hate and anger while striking out at all innocent souls as their
Double-edged sword waits for those from the depths of Hell itself
Gary Bateman, Liam McDaid, and Michael Clarke
A Collaborated Poem, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
August 9, 2015 (Unrhymed Quatrain)
Darkness gives birth to Light
I was once a victim of Narcissist's spite
Blinded by love I desired to feel and see
Instead I saw truth and faced reality
Awakened, consciously A fool no more
My Name is Karma, I came to settle the score!
Peace and Purity my domain, and then you came
With comforting promises and sweet nothings you played your game
With a sincere heart for you adoration grew
Your Deceit well masked, your mendacious actions brew
Perfidious lover you shall be no more
My Name is Karma, I came to settle the score!
Like a phoenix out of the ashes I rise
My sacred flame will disintegrate your shady disguise
The same toxic dish you served on my plate
Will be fed to you, you will meet your fate
Imposter! To you I have shut my door
My name is Karma I came to settle the score!
Silence may turn into storms, must I worry?
A lioness soul bends an untamed temperance,
a fierce rage I bury, populist of pure purpose permanence
so do go gentle on me ‘O judgest condemner
I stand with tenets of truth, humanity’s sustainer
not a raging tempest, nor dying light
but an empowering responsive receptor
these spearmint arrows bolt through blight
I don a polished persona of armor
not the helmet of a hypocrite of bone or ivory
but leather boots built to march into Gehenna
the Fiery, for harrowing heavenly causes
Perfidious, I let you keep the repute given me
the rebel rouser fits me well
The prophet himself, p e r s e c u t e d,
whilst he ruffled feathers and raised hell
There’s an ineffable effigy
to whom I bow, sovereign Lady Liberty
her crown, radiant rays jut like the sun
an aureole flickers of freedom
windows of gems like sacral chakras
I, this blatant believer reverts to rebellion
crusading for campaigns and fair elections
with this, I’ve conquered the storm within
11:59 The doomsday clock tics an AI timer,
a hoax yells the denier's lying tongue
I mustn’t keep silent, moksha can we revisit this later?
give me a bit more time to repent
Amongst autumn’s signature rustling leaves
I walk error-free, veins vigor, I roll up my sleeves
alongside rebels alike we fight king of terrors
Swamiye your sacred motive fills my soul,
with me unseeker are your fragrant prayers
the holy hills call, c o m e, yet I stay
at summit’s foothills with seeker sayers,
raised voices not in praise for the divine, not with joy do we sing,
but with sinful pride we chant harmoniously, no kings!
I go by myself walking
I hear myself talking;
Then as I deliberate
On the direction of fate
That leaves me so anxious
With illusions atrocious
Invading my privacy
With the blight of absurdity.
They come there unbidden
Like troubles forbidden;
Showing their faces
In my secret places;
Peevish and fractious
Mindless and anxious
Blighting the laughter
With deeds that come after.
Trying to taunt me
To follow and haunt me.
In my mind they come festering
In my ears they are pestering
That my enemies are treacherous
My friends are ominous
And my life is dangerous.
The calamitous confusions
Bring perfidious allusions
Deceptions so diabolical
Fears that are comical
And all these do vex me
With nightmares to perplex me
While Satan sits amused
Knowing I am confused.
They say if you don’t use a thing for a year
It’s time to get rid of it, just to be clear
Feel free to sell it or give it away
But to get clutter free, just don’t let it stay
So, I checked my garage for stuff I could lose--
and found hundreds of words I simply don’t use!
Lilliputian and Sprightly stood on a shelf
Elbow-to-elbow with some wry little elf
Bucolic and Bumpkin were squirreled away
Beneath a big bale of bright yellow hay
Garish and Gaudy were in a glittery box
with Trinkets and Baubles set with fake rocks
Surreptitious and Unobtrusive tried to avoid being seen
But I caught 'em sneaking off with Clandestine
Beyond these loose words, which filled many a bin
Lay whole turns of phrase like Much to My Chagrin
I held up to the light a Gossamer Veil
Then dumped it in a Perfidious Betrayal
An Ethereal Cloud, glued to the ceiling
I scraped off with an Ambivalent Feeling
I rolled back the rug to see what I'd missed,
There before me stretched a Yawning Abyss
Into a huge crate, these big words I did toss
Bobbing on top were Flotsam, Jetsam and Dross
Fatigued by these labors, I took a short break
But that little respite may have been my mistake
Soon I was deep in most Pensive Reflection
On how Assiduously I had built this collection
In crept Myriad Doubts about so brash a move
What if I meet some Cad I need to Reprove?
What if some Craven Cur should Incur my Wrath
But words fail me due to this Ill-Chosen Path?
Well, soon that old crate was quite empty once more
And cluttered again were bin, shelf, drawer and floor
But one thing has changed, this is Palpably Clear
My Leviathan Word Horde I now Deeply Revere
Intrepid and Dauntless, I sling without fear
Iota and Mote.. I dust off once a year!
____________________________
by Brian McClain - Feb 2, 2016
THE THREE STOOGES
With their lunatic style of slapstick
These old favourites made their mark
Bangs on head, eye pokes and **** kicks
Were transformed to works of art
But it's not of this trio I speak
Three more egregious, my aim
On these your attention I seek
They're REGRET, SHAME and BLAME
Undesirables of the emotions
With pretence that your life they will serve
If for living this life you've devotion
Treat them with the mistrust they deserve
.....................
SHAME - the one least deserving disdain
The one who gets head bashed and eyes poked
Only loons never feel guilty pain
Without wishing their sins be revoked
With no shame at our dastardly deed
We would surely be heartless and brazen
Not to wish to repent, fault concede
But don't drown in self immolation
.....................
REGRET is a stooge insidious
A crime with no victim but self
Curbing soul in a manner perfidious
Life on hold, and you on the shelf
Have a few, perhaps 'too few to mention'
You mis-spoke? Well by all means retract words
But avoid a total suspension
And don't spend your life looking backwards
.....................
Then BLAME, there's the killer, life dumbing
Though it may give relief and brief feel-good
To beat up some rat who had it coming
But move on! Don't espouse victimhood
The problem with indulging in blame
It makes another the cause, you effected
Paint yourself in a victim's frame
Can you then be source for life corrected?
13 May 2018
“Devoid of decorum and dignity”
Is one of the quotes that I heard.
To know it relates to the POTUS debates
Is as awful as it is absurd.
On one side, a bully whose bluster
Would get him suspended from school;
With no self-control and a hole in his soul,
He’s a pompous, perfidious fool.
On the other side, he who’d replace him
Wants to pacify, help and unite
Yet in making his case, what instead he must face
Is a nasty below-the-belt fight.
In the middle, befuddled and helpless,
Is the person who should be in charge
But when things go off-track, he can’t stop the attack,
Like a substitute teacher writ large.
We watch, feeling sick and despondent,
In shock at how low we have sunk
And that outrage and shame, for which we have no name,
Lingers on in a nightmarish funk.
Dark clouds loomed over the horizon
They broke loose in unprecedented force
Nature’s wrath, sudden violence acquired
It rained down as if unleashing all her fury
It was a downpour without one equal
The heavens let down dark misery for days on end,
Water bodies swelled and hollows filled,
Land mass slipped and trees fell,
The tame rivers looked fierce in spate.
Waves surfed and waters roared,
Like mountains they rose over the land,
Men in throngs were evicted from their homes,
Hundreds died and livestock perished
Such violence, never ever imagined
Helter-skelter, people fled for life.
Lands inundated and folks were marooned,
Homes were washed away with all belongings
Power failed and life had come to a halt
Rescue operations went on in full swing
But the deluge chanted the dirge of dying souls
Men sought shelter in relief camps
Epidemics broke loose and many died
Hospitals were flooded with ailing souls
Crops perished and misery prevailed
Havoc wreaked and penury struck
As Nature thus played her perfidious tricks,
Men stayed united and pooled all their might,
To regain for their land what had been lost
In a matter of months life was back to normal
It was a time that displayed man’s great resilience.
The last mile of the way
It is a matter of must
To all and sundry,
Each and every man-jack
Has to walk it.
It is the real moment in deed
For one has to say, “Goodbye”
To those he loves.
One has to put down all his loads
And face the reality of time.
Blessed is the man
Who walks on camino real with the Lord.
Cursed is the peregrinator who peregrinate alone,
Who promenade Lordlessly.
The rich man blundered
To hell he was taken
For his life has been peripatetic and perfidious.
Confessions he tried
But confessions failed.
Remember, longest is the night
That is not followed by the day.
No matter how long the night
The day is sure to come.
With His cross on His shoulders
This mile the Lamb travelled,
Sinless and spotless the teacher was
And God the Almighty on His side He stood.
The impenitent Judas also travelled it
The mile was tough and dolorous
For his sins were accompanying him,
Suicide and sheol were his penultimate end.
Fight panophobia and euphorbia
With rectitude and optimism for heavenly opulence,
With clear conscience and faith in Him
Walk through the narrow door
Before the Master closes.
The writing is on the wall
“God shows no favouritism”
Let us travel this mile
With no wrinkle and spot
For this mile takes us
Into the hands of the Omniscious One.
Where our tears will be removed by Him,
Where there is eternal rest
Where there is no sorrows,
Neither death nor sicknesses.
It
is
not we
who are the foolish
laying our hearts open to love
When sorrow is our portion and our heart has a hole
our great folly lies in allowing a perfidious fool to taint our trusting soul
(The rehab of a supervisor)
My eyes! Saturated
with industrial crap, eventually
to intoxicate what’s left of one’s
bewildered brain.
My sight! Shackled to the
delusion of corporate inconsistencies,
when leading one’s head through each
enigmatic juncture.
My ears! Burn with unprincipled
mispronunciations, after boardroom
lampoons of delinquency miss the
mark, especially when delivered
within the queerness of each
insidious secretion, only then to be
viewed with suspicion, when basking
within the formulation of one’s own
comfort zone!
“Labeled” Non aspirant
when introduced to those
emerging within the endearment of
one’s company charter!
“Without ambition”
The blind clown of managerial youth
articulates, one score and five
not an option in this perfidious
global arena.
Astute! The annual assessment
in place, only to bolster
insecure managers.
A feedback, to aid keep one
in one’s place.
The first phase of corporate
correctiveness, complete with subtle
innuendoes.
Barriers! Put in place to analyze
inflexible overtones, before pleading
guilty of being in possession of too
many answers.
But alas! Enlightenment validated, only
if, of a positive kind.
Ah! Is this the answer! Positivity with
in this negative world, where truth has
lost its meaning in a labyrinth of
corporate “Lunacy?”
Seminar after seminar concoct to
intergrade somewhat aimlessly with
today’s intellect, corporate logic
filtered through hidden agenda, systems of
corrective surgery implanted, to keep
“Shop floor” On track.”
“I! And some, from
a bygone era, ridiculed, insulted,
with in the classroom.”
© Harry J Horsman 1999
Don't Give Up On Me
My heart's still pumping,
Blood is pulsing,
But I am bleeding,
Pouring out my love.
The beauty of our flaws,
I held on and took a loss,
You're happy and I'm in despair,
Gracefully and serenely you cry,
But I want to die.
Emotions rise with pain inside,
Your eyes they speak, tears of cold.
Hatred and jealously takes part,
You take him, my heart you hold.
Love's enigma, a beautiful maze,
An emotional game,
A sacrificer's gain.
Words and actions separate,
Your perfidious smile I hate,
Yet your personality I agitate.
I'm completely fixed on you,
My soul knows no other,
For I am your dear lover.
I'm sorry my friend,
This we can not end,
Our love is the universe,
A bright night, stars in the darkness.
I'm on my knee,
Don't give up on me,
I'm begging you please.
Prevarication permits pretend perception, presenting
piquantly piqued, pimply pimping playboy, plucky
pulchritudinous previously pusillanimous, prevalently
puckish, psychic packman, pokemon playing proletarian
puppeteer pygmy, peevishly punky, plummy, plumy,
pompously pushy, pampered, prefabricated pinchbeck,
pokily plying plowshear, plodding peregrination, pied
piper pitifully peppy pornographic potato pealing,
parsimonious paradoxical protagonist, proposing
preposterous panicky pacification plots, prioritization
pertinent penultimate peroration, perhaps perceiving
perjuring, perplexing, perverting puzzling pronouncements
projecting pulsating pixelated pulpy pinball pinging
packets prompting pacific, poetic, phlegmatic purplish
psoriasis plagued, plumbum pallor pallid, Paleolithic
protuberance pronounced, psychosomatic prohibitionist,
polarizing perfunctory peculiarly progressive, patriotic
postmodern pathologically proud paternal panache,
peripatetic panaceas portraying prescient perfidious
puerile president, predominantly proposing parochial
principles, plenty public parking, purposefully
promoting pharisee phalanxes, pilates practicing
paragons, perennially peaceably proficient protesters,
profitable polygamy, pugnacious pitbull powerball
players, pandering polyandry, propagating professional
palindrome pensive peeping people, peddling,
proselytizing predicating prostitution, proliferating
phenomenally, populist persona promulgated peyote
phased physicians pioneering prescription promoting
paradisiacal pricey photographic pictures, placating
phrenetic physical perturbation partaking place
purchased (paid paltry pennies) por palatial piazza.
Tech-No-Logic
Of keyboard and swipe
a screens deliberation circuit electronic
in metal skin and paper thin
push button hums the chord of plastic
tech-no-logical inventum
such marvels to grind the wheel
impartial utensils the battery static
a signal from pre-molded concrete
sends the flip switch light
a barrage of city steel
Perfidious evolution
camera slapped ready to be mobile
disseminate precious packeted information
send the engine forward
designed specific mechanical
with purpose and all copyright invention
roll out the factory trinkets
and by wifi extol these virtues of freedom
such ease of apps
the dictionary of a creative human
Pander upon the wonder
tech-no-logic inventum
to satellite and celluloid praise them
the world a window
to ignore confusion
fanatical gears performing missiles
each trigger of functioning confident
laser guided telescopic retention
art forms innovation
and the busy discourse of bibliophiles
What design by rain
the mechanisms of perfume
a flowers technical schematic
a blueprint revived
so the wind sustains chaotic
fluctuations of forms molecule Phi
graceful filament wings
the meaning of feathers, thorns and insect
wood breathing light
inexplicable, irreproachable tree
of life
And who by sun
upon rainbows plain did walk
was uttered a catchphrase of miracles
no other perfection
wrought in animate visions sacrament
the momentums overture existential
rhythms dance plays waterfall
which finger tips technology
so in intricate reflex of memory
sustained an infinite birth
Lay by road side
in clank and clamor rattle
semaphore an accident in skeletal
and by marvelous creed
take emulsions photo
whys and wherefores the veins of petals
the everyday unexceptional
but still focus changes the angle
all reiteration speaks
by blueprint original perfected creation