Best Pinhead Poems
I love the night,
wandering in wide tranquil countryside,
in the dim light of the pinhead stars,
with their intricate constellations,
a nocturnal symphony that helps give directions
to wayward hitchhikers that roam in off course pathways.
I love the night,
imbibing the perfumes of the ambrosial countryside.
The newly cut hay, the wayside fragrant flowers,
all covered with a fine dew
spreading delicate exquisite odors in country meadows.
I love the night.
In the open vistas,
where all daily cares just fade away,
like wispy steam from a far off train.
A soft music can be heard behind thick hedges,
but be aware, think not of the ugly resonance
that go bump in the night.
I love the night.
The winking owls hoot in lament,
grasshoppers sing in close-mouthed consent,
soggy frogs give an occasional harsh croak,
but birds sleep happily on lofty trees.
Isn't it a wonderful place to be?
Thank you, God for providing me the night.
Categories:
pinhead, night,
Form:
Free verse
Pinhead Lizard
Ever since he was a young boy
He played with balls of fire
From church halls to Soho brothels
He must have had them all
Aint seen nothing like this pinhead
In any amusement hall
That deaf, dumb and dumber kid
Sure plays a mean ol shtick
He weeps at mother Mary’s feet
Becomes part of the molesting dream
Feeling proud at his insulting whit
This Pinhead lizard
Sure is a wee wee twit
The gods looks down in smite and anger
That deaf, dumb and dumber kid
Sure plays a mean mean shtick
He’s a pinhead lizard
Maybe he’s drunk and very pissed
That pinhead lizard sure has a mean twist
How do you think he justifies
God sure hasn’t got a clue
What makes him an evil lizard?
Should have made him into a shoe
Aint got no education
Can’t bear the voices of reason
Don’t see no lights bulbs in that ones head
Makes no sense, but tosses insults like stale bread
He thought he was the charmer
He’s just a pinhead lizard with no crown
Ever since he was young boy
That lizard never grew up
He defames Jesus and preaches
Are all the lizards this lame?
He has his flip flop slippers
No wonder he always falls
Never failing to de-fame
He’s a pinhead lizard
Maybe he’s drunk and very pissed
That pinhead lizard sure has a mean mean twist
Written Sep 14, 2001 Parody on the song Pinball Wizard and a video game at the time!
Categories:
pinhead, humorous, parody,
Form:
Light Verse
I love the night,
wandering in wide tranquil countryside,
in the dim light of the pinhead stars,
with their intricate constellations,
a nocturnal symphony that helps give directions
to wayward hitch hikers that roam in off course pathways.
I love the night,
imbibing the perfumes of the ambrosial countryside.
The newly cut hay, the wayside fragrant flowers,
all covered with a fine dew
spreading delicate exquisite odors in country meadows.
I love the night.
In the open vistas,
where all daily cares just fade away,
like wispy steam from a far off train.
A piece of soft music can be heard behind thick hedges,
but be aware, think not of the ugly resonance
that go bump in the night.
I love the night.
The winking owls hoot in lament,
grasshoppers sing in close-mouthed consent,
soggy frogs give an occasional harsh croak,
but birds sleep happily on lofty trees.
Isn't it a wonderful place to be?
Thank you God for providing me the night.
Categories:
pinhead, night,
Form:
Free verse
Break.
My nail hanging on the splintered door frame,
The rusty friction of my poisoned blood
Seeping through the contaminated cracks
Of the tormented nightmare I am in.
Rip.
My flesh from my hands,
Clawing at the jagged walls,
Cutting into my delicate veins,
To slash my surroundings crimson.
Cackle.
Guttural and scratchy in my throat,
Smearing broken flesh across my face,
Shrieking with maddening dread
From the torture I am receiving.
Burn.
Smouldering my suffering shins,
Scolding my soft skin,
Blistering my blood,
Singeing my soul.
Red.
The sign of suffering,
The mark of murder,
The trait of torture,
The colour of the cruel.
But the pain is irrelevant
There is much worse to come
What kills me
Is the wait...
I scream out in agony
The itching infected insanity
Building in my nebulous mind
I scream and my body convulses.
Searing temperatures fluctuate within,
Animalistic howls echo amongst
And through my lunacy
I’m able to hear
Through blood soaked ears
The slow, deliberate, mechanical steps
Accompanied by the screech of rusty razor knives,
The shudder of cold breath through gritted teeth,
The booming bellow of a beast
My broken body sprawled and I twist
My upper half in grinding pain
My stinging eyes searching
My gasps growing...
I squint at the pierced demon
The seductive cenobite
In patient, deliberate calm he growls:
Welcome, To Hell.
Screaming, shrieking,
Shattering, soul scolding
Wails will
Shudder and spin throughout the labyrinth
For eternity.
Categories:
pinhead, body,
Form:
Free verse
Spiders – Arachnids
From the tiny pinhead Samoan Moss spider
To the huge Tarantula with legs spreading wider
Exists a diverse and interesting creature
With many a color and many a feature
Comparing ounce by ounce with steel
A spider’s silk is much stronger and real
Made up of proteins, natures building blocks
That can absorb even the most violent shocks
Honey Bees – Apoidea
These amazing insects with incredible ability
From honey production to their communal civility
As the dance and waggle to show direction
Towards nectar and pollen for their collection
Using the sun as a reference for flight
Seeing with their eyes the ultraviolet light
Carrying their loads on electrostatic legs
Back to the hive for their larvae and eggs
Leaf Cutting Ants – Apoidea
These small busy insects with dynamic strength
That can carry a leaf five times its length
Way underground, into chambered nest
With vigor and vitality and so much zest
To lay down these leaves to feed its batch
Of harvest fungus in their garden patch
They can carry a load thirty times their weight
And build a mound that is mighty and great
Butterflies – Lepidoptera
These angelic creatures with iridescent wings
Of overlapping scales in patterns and rings
From egg to caterpillar its, first life stages
And then to chrysalis where it rests and ages
To emerge one day so transformed
So utterly beautiful, so perfectly formed
To flutter by in colorful flight
And onto a flower, there alight
Categories:
pinhead, animals, inspirational, life, nature,
Form:
In a dark, dark room light cannot be found
When demons overtake, anxieties unbound
Black cat's silhouette far long upon the wall
Stairs creak, loud and clear, further down the hall
In a dark, dark room light cannot be found
Reactive spirit, all alone, feeling every sound
Winds moan throaty, heavy through fractured eaves
Sinister pumpkins shimmering light, sit among the leaves
In a dark, dark room light cannot be found
Unsettled thoughts, on the bend go 'round and 'round
Werewolves, Frankenstein, Dracula how they make us shudder
Hearts skip many beats escalating to a flutter
In a dark, dark room light cannot be found
Anticipation, deep and dark, envelops and surrounds
Pinhead, Jason, Freddy - fill our mind with fright
Needless fodder for a nervous mind on Halloween night
Categories:
pinhead, autumn, dark, horror, scary,
Form:
Rhyme
4/30/17
Underneath what they consider lunar
Don't care if your name is super
So much for your future
And all of the rumors
There is nowhere you can go to outmaneuver
When I turn into Krueger
Take you out before the sound of the rooster
Whether or not on the computer
Or a scooter
Oh well that just makes one fewer
I don't care if you can't appreciate my humor
I come from the sewer
Not much of a snoozer
But a heavy duty boozer
Warning
Night and morning
The rage accumulating and forming
Before, during and after storming
In and out of areas with bugs that continue swarming
Feeling like Rick and not so much Morty
The temperature below, above or at the forties
In and out of different territories
Near and far from quarries
Coming in like Vorhees
It doesn't matter if you heard all the stories
Because nothing can prepare you for me
Considering that we all fall in different categories
And carry our own inventories
Mine can make it gory
Yours are empty normally
For you it just may end up horribly
Drawn out or ending shortly
I don't care about the glory
Or so called purgatory
A simple and friendly reminder
Don't have on your blinders
Think wiser
At elevations lower and higher
On foot or tires
Looking like Myers
In and out of areas devastated by fires
Above and below telephone wires
With a pair of pliers
Ready to eliminate any liars
Leaving behind no traces or fibers
Tried to go after me, but instead
He was caught, and pissed the bed
As it was off with his head
When I was Pinhead
Could be worse or better
More or lesser
Something that would do you some good to remember
Before I lose control of my temper
And become Lecter
Against whomever
Thinks their clever
Whenever
During any weather
The surrounding suddenly became redder
Not concerned about opinions
A one man army on a mission
They wanted to give me a million
Endless medical prescriptions
And to persuade me with religion
But I wouldn't give in or listen
Because I am a villain
By: Dalton Ogletree
Categories:
pinhead, poetry, rap, word play,
Form:
Rhyme
Let me tell you a little story, of a boy called Ned
He was they say from a far away place called, Birkenhead
He had some good friends called: Fred, Red and also Ted
And they were so poor, they didn't even own a bed!
Ned loved his small town even when he was so bored
Who can blame him,the town was so creepy,it was almost dead
There wasn't a single park where after school to have fled
Not even a library where a single book was to be had and read.
Sure it wasn't much joy or fun at all, for him to spread
Not even toasted peanut-butter and jellied bread
Most of the time he had to sleep in a barn or the shed
With all the fleas,horses,cows and the sheep in the stead.
Every morning poor Ned woke up with a stiff and sorehead
He just wanted to be well-read and well-bred
But he didn't know a book how to read
So he went around stutter...rrr..ring and feeling like a total Pinhead.
So one day Ned decided some for himself and made a pled
To leave right away his much beloved and well known homestead
And take also with him his dear friends,Fred,Red and Ted
To a much better and happier place so they went instead to West Quoddy Head!
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2014
September,28,2014
Categories:
pinhead, fantasy, funny,
Form:
Couplet
Lets Have Fun
Oh how we enjoy a festival,
It is a time to celebrate, and it’s annual,
Oft at this time we are boastful,
It’s a special time to time to dazzle!
There’s no better time than at harvest,
Hopefully this year’s crop is the biggest,
Our attentive labors have been the dearest,
We can only pray the product is the fairest!
What’s a good festival without laughter?,
Lots of fun, fare and plenty of banter,
Fun for all, no time for anger,
Colorful signs on each and every banner!
Colors aplenty of hue, mostly red,
So much to see, nothing should be misread,
Take in everything, don’t be a pinhead,
Plays, mimes, games, and food, especially cornbread!
Lots of vegetables, breads, and even an orange,
The games offer all a challenge,
Most fun is the throwing of a sponge,
Make no hesitation go for the plunge!
Bright are the banners, many of yellow,
Some folks are enjoying the game of bunko,
Turkey legs are available, served flambeau,
The more one participates, the more they glow!
Best to see are all those wondrous costumes,
No doubt they were held for this day in cloakrooms,
One came also enjoy various scented perfumes,
Ah, what scents are sniffed from those plumes!
Last not least is heard the joyous music,
All melodious, some serious, some classic and some comic,
This day is one of happiness, it is a classic,
None to compare with, this day is epic!
Categories:
pinhead, funnyday, time, day, time,
Form:
Rhyme
Ugh, Why Must The Missus Vacuum At The Crack Of Dawn?
(circa: early December 27, 2018 morning)
There appears to be a
virulent (possibly deadly) strain
of housekeeping virus
Hoover ring in the air
asymptomatic tentatively linked to rein
deer droppings (micro-organisms) blare
ring and trumpeting beyond
the threshold to humans, though plain
lee send audible wavelengths
to symbiotic species clear
as a bell, which organisms don
nano size MAGA hats, and main
lee set up shop in carpet threads,
and chiefly thrive on deer
pellets, where one bee bee
gun size bullet serves long lane
of critters unseen can easily
make headway into ear,
eyes, nose, et cetera other
orifices, and Kane
inject unsuspecting vacuum sealed
byproduct to forswear
unsightly piles of dirt, debris,
dust bunnies, which Jain
Dharma would find
appalling horrifically glare
ring at desecrating supposed germ
carrying pests calling utterly inane,
the constant effort
to keep house beautiful heir
ruled ding disinfectant resistant,
whether mite tee Germaine,
or itty bitty teensy weensy siblings
many named Oh Fair
Roe One Wade for me, nonetheless seek
out porous fleshy terrain
allowing, enabling and providing
pinhead size portal
i.e. vector to engineer
transmitting a fast
acting alien entity
without any explain
nation, an immediate urge to spruce up
the place applying interlinear
trigonometry (of course adhering to
Feng Shui when rearranging), without drain
ning, lessening, zapping,
et cetera, but meer
really loose sing a whirling dervish
(mini tornado) fiercely
finding the spouse on feverish spree
to clean entire apartment chain!
Categories:
pinhead, abuse, anger, animal, dad,
Form:
Free verse
Somewhere between the molecules
and neurons in my brain,
lies latent creativity,
between miracles and mundane.
Although of late, still sleeping,
wandering, adrift,
as if in need like watering seeds
to bloom its innate gift.
Itself to heights out of the night
and into light again,
somewhere behind the prefrontal lobe
a thought begins to spin.
Like a waterspout, a funnel cloud,
or a black hole in deep space,
yet smaller than a pinhead
with angels dancing on its face.
While it craves to know its master
and begs to be reborn,
as if it knows it's time and place,
and laughs with mirth and scorn.
Much like a clown, a trickster now,
hiding in the weeds, lying,
between my amygdala and medulla,
creativity teases me.
I know not where it's leading,
if any place at all,
but only know to listen,
to its faint, quiescent call.
That may lead to greener pastures
where wisdom's waiting there,
some little treasures I've been after
or perhaps, disaster and despair.
The only way of knowing
is to take the winding road,
inside my mind where love is kind
and thoughts that matter grow.
While listening to the wind and rain
or gazing on the Milky Way,
creativity unfolds like silver and gold,
and children lost in play.
As it rises, falls, expands, and stalls,
leaving all perplexed,
waiting for the moment when
another young bird leaves its nest.
And spreads its wings and learns to fly
and let itself be known,
to feathery flocks, sea, sky, and rocks
and wherever it may roam.
In this never-ending, mind-bending journey
of mountain peaks to climb,
for the creative urge to feel the surge
of Creativity in our minds.
Categories:
pinhead, allusion,
Form:
Rhyme
There’s a monkey tag-team of mo-rons
running things ~ Polly Would Pinocchio style
Dumb and Dumber dolts
got dim a dullard king Dumbo
dunce chair directing
Elephant Man, with the carrot top sage
He’s a veggie dense thinker,
whose airhead leading the buffoon brigade
And it’s a head scratcher
as to why dim low IQ, cowardly lions
are lemming following the fiefdom folly
It’s so chicken-hearted laughable ...
henpecks lip farting,
putting on a helium gas of a show
Cue the fake laughter soundtrack:
It’s American Idle time!
Snooze prime to hear the rally monkey
carnival noise once more
You can bet your two Pence,
this clueless circus is gonna campaign roll
back into Mo’ scowl town
P.T. “Blarney Ruble” Barnum
and his chimpanzee crew of incompetent clowns
are again orangutan offering
their court jester brand of witless protection
Midas minus the safety!
Only “no-money-back” global security guarantee
Dim Supremely silly Windy Poot tiggers ...
so growl inept at stashing hidden tax figures,
are stumbling out of the Keystone Cop clown car
at an imbecilic, cage open pace —
Arrested development cut-rate
Dim piglet pasties with the parrot face, and the carat taste,
are warble wobbling about in bungling, Bozo haste
Following the folly of the stupid arms race
Pinhead ponies love the idiotic art of the coin chase
As the ringleader Mo-Ron McDonald the Clown
tells his simpleton clucks, at the Ivory barn Animal House Farm,
there’s no nuke need to be smartly alarmed
Categories:
pinhead, humorous, perspective, satire, word
Form:
Alliteration
I never have enough apples.
Apple pie, which I will only eat
alamode.
Apples, to keep the dentist at bay;
apples, to keep a nagging teacher away.
Apples, cored and filled with peanut butter
and raisins,
finds balance somewhere between a raindrop
and the symmetry of snowflakes,
where balance cannot be found.
Like old age and youth
the man in the mirror always wins.
No matter how long it takes
to see him, he's always there.
Old ladies lose muscular tone
and daily search to balance sag and arrest,
another dirty smudge where balance
cannot be found.
I take pride in the old woman's knobby fingers,
I 've earned every lump you see.
It brings me joy to look at them...
I have my grandmother's hands..
and that balances everything.
Categories:
pinhead, life,
Form:
Free verse
Pinhead sized raindrops fall in numbers, attempting to imitate fog
Green needled giants with red bark stand at attention and point at the sky
The odd deciduous turns yellow as though in fear of the impending cold
They are dwarfed by valley walls which are sealed above by oppressive clouds
Mighty Columbia drops an ice cold tongue, coloured from the cleanest blue to the dirtiest grey, to lick the valley floor
It drools crystal clear water and spits moraine
POP!
The wood makes the same sound being split by fire or by axe
We face each other on a bench by the stove
We alternate sides attempting to maintain a balance between the side feeling the heat of the stove and the other being chilled by the mountain breeze
Our hot side like the heat of summer and our cold side like the chill of winter
The seasons change in us as they do outside
Each season returning to itself in the course of time
White streaks through dark night-sky-hair to slowly become the meteor shower that awaits us
Categories:
pinhead, adventure, earth, fire, life,
Form:
Free verse
It matters not how we flourish in this valley of the universe, grazing in our meadow of celestial existence.
Life blossoms, life perishes on this pinhead of eternity but we strive to see the seasons through and escape the lurking perils, whether nature's or man's will.
In trepidation we anticipate the seasons predictable course. Springtime comes bringing beauty and warmth, igniting life, our petals unfolding in full glory.
For all mankind, there's a time, one season will not appear. Predictable as timely segments but not in content, we love the treasures that they bring but know they're mere signals to the finish line.
Life should be cherished, we should grow to be our absolute best but deep inside us we're aware that life is but a smudge on the handkerchief of Creation.
Our Earthly minds can not comprehend the endless possibilities beyond the stars and while space expands we continue to rape and pillage our own gift of a planet.
But to the juggernaut called Creation it matters not how we flourish in this valley of the universe.
Categories:
pinhead, life, philosophy, seasons, universe,
Form:
Prose Poetry