Best Pranksters Poems
:)
What kids are watching on telly
are crimes and crimes in all variety!
Crimes of hate
crimes of passion
acting it out at shocking rate
thinking in some wild fashion
then ending up cell mates!
When kids watch their movie heroes
shoot down people with the gun
they are incited to do the same
to achieve some thrill and fun.
When they see their very film star
slash someone's throat in a fit of anger
they think well of crimes of rage
and plunge everybody else into danger.
The tendency to portray the violent scene
luridly and shockingly on the Big Screen
Ah even for the small screen, tis the gory
that makes for the dark and thrilling story.
Now that technology's long opened this pandora's box
the dispersal of amplified social ills ain't no hoax
The rowdy hoodlums and reckless gangsters
are simply by-products of Tv influences
The world watches the thriving of the bully-boy pranksters
passively in helpless terror of their offences.
It's all portrayal of the vulgar, the obscene
by that devious Silver Screen
And the horror movie
though it may seem groovy
begets the horrendous
and drills evil thoughts subliminally
into the subconscious!
It's an unrestrained dark faking
of real life reality exaggerating
Whether it's Bollywood in the East
or it's Hollywood in the West
they don't merely impart tactics of defence
but rather those of aggressive offence
Viewing those gruesome swashbuckling films
gives rise to morbid sadistic whims
Flipping through the TV channels
just ponder if the telly's the perfect channel
of information is it a proper panel?
Dad always tells me, 'fear ye the roaches' flicking antennae?
While you oughtta fear the influence
of 'em' flickering images by dish antennae'.
Then a mere single merit that I dug
as I drank cappucino in my mug
that atleast one couldn't live in a bubble
daily watching the bubblebug.
Ah but then tougher gun laws couldn't halt
even underage shooting sprees
Rather it's stringent scanning of Tv content
that might make it all cease
Parental supervision too tis gravely essential
Should've been of parental code quintessential
So the next time you catch your teen
absorbed and engrossed while glued to the screen
Just sleuth a bit just to make sure
that for the x-rated he's not too keen!
A Pranksters Prank
Nigel went to school one day
Thought he’d play a prank per say
Put glue on to the teachers chair
Told the others stand back and beware.
Nigel looked out the window as she came in
He had to look quite innocent and not grin
Clare Adams sat down without looking
Heard and felt a squish go squishing.
Her eyes bugged out almost out of their sockets
And yelled Nigel go right to the office docket
Bring the principal and school nurse fast
Before I call your mother to give you a blast.
POOR NIGEL LOOKED AS IF HE’D PEED IN HIS PANTS AGHAST.
Written: 5/20/14
Theresa Marie
Dear parents, don't you agree
that you all quite regularly see
Your tiny pranksters shouting loud -
Higher and shriller than they are allowed?
So here's the solution to end all your worries -
When your naughty little poppet stealthily scurries
To make blood-curdling, spine-tingling, uproarious noises,
Just scare them to silence with their headmasters' voices!
Painting a picture of porcupines playing
Pincushions parked in the field
Purple and pink for this playful perception
Plans of their purpose revealed
Painful endeavors of pacified pranksters
Preparing a pie at their place
Pecan or pumpkin, pickle, pineapple
Pieces are smeared on their face
Putting the paint on some powder puff paper
Pleasure in each stroke is plied
Pausing to peer at some porpoises playing
Prancing in pansies they hide
Puzzling problems with pretzels and peanuts
Posturing people to prove
Pistachio perfume in prime presentation
Preaches that peaches will move
Polishing pastels on pre-printed pages
Prized the possessions we seek
Paisley the plumes of a peacocks posterior
Portraits now come take a peek
Pampering pelicans play the piano
Pure as a piccolos prayer
Picking a parcel of plum flavored pudding
Poetic prose fills the air
Pleats in my pants shout in proud proclamation
Puddle my pores that perspire
Poodles on playgrounds prevent prosecution
Plotting my hearts pure desire
Passion precedes every past tense of parting
Piled with a presence so true
Painting a picture while purposely dreaming
Promising my love to you
Sitting uncomfortably on my kitchen chair, waiting for the doorbell to ring,
I think back to past Halloweens, underlying feelings - this uneasiness thing.
Do these feelings stem from my childhood or knowledge of All Hallows’ eve,
Or is it that I live way out in the country - has my mind just taken its leave.
Historically this night was thought to be, all wandering souls’ last chance
To revenge their enemies before entering the realm of their final dance.
Costumes and masks were worn to avoid being recognized by a lost soul,
Jack-o-lanterns of turnips remembered those in purgatory, that was the goal.
Raised in a quiet little village, Halloween was always a time of high alert,
Rumors and folklore outlined of terrible fires, of animals and people hurt,
I would watch my father the town’s clerk prepare for this horrendous night,
Each sign of concealment, a whisper just added to my ever growing fright.
Store owners sat quietly in the dark waiting for pranksters to soap windows,
The farmers watched for signs of movement by barns and over meadows.
Volunteer fire fighters sat by the phone to respond covertly to any barn fire,
No sirens were used tonight, reduce the alarm, or so they tried to conspire.
My best friend lived out in the country, we would trick or treat together,
Her parents drove us around all the country roads in the stormy weather.
Pumpkins would flicker eerily on the railings of front porches as a guide,
Acknowledging someone was home with treats, you were welcome inside.
But every single cornstalk moved in different directions adding to my fear,
No doorbells to ring or bright street lights to show the masquerades clear,
Fires burned in the distance, yellow and orange flames licked at the night sky,
Now cars pull down my gravel driveway, is this a murderer, am I going to die.
With each knock, I take my life in my hands and open the front door,
This time I see a little princess and a funky monster walk onto my floor.
It is now late and I move to the jack-o-lantern to blow out the candle,
Another Halloween - the fear and fright - too much for me to handle.
Written September 7, 2012
For Gail Doyle’s Halloween Night contest
Life in the “Ghettohood” is finger licking good,
All souls in their folly keeps my coffers full and jolly
Anger hate and bigotry’s the best kind of energy.
Loud ruthless gangsters, young naughty pranksters;
Keeping up with the Kardashians, those vexed unholy citizens
A pleasure to see, their shiny gold turn to greed.
As Your strong wills yields to the thrill of the kill.
Awwwhhh Great Glory to me. My name will be history.
Oh the pride, the pride, the arrogantly foolish;
See your selfish lust fall victim to the lazy.
Be thy noble minds martyred violently crazy
Mmmm tasty, tasty, tasty ¬_ cakes and pies;
Delicious is the filling of steamy deceit and lies.
I savor the flavor of the strong, weak and old.
Don’t listen to the fables of those stories told!
I will suck the marrow from the bones of your babies;
Then tiptoe through the tulips, the roses and daisies.
For every time you lift a little finger of foe;
The energy of negativity helps me to grow.
Go on forget about me, I’m not so bad of a guy,
You’re all on the menu, the bold and the shy.
I’m just a mere villainous vampire.
Feasting till you completely expire.
Aye! The eating is marvelously good in every Ghettohood!
~~~w11152019
In honor of Actor Frank Reddick, Jr.
The evening in nineteen forty five was unusually warm.
It was only a few days until Halloween pranksters
came, braving the thickets.
Serenading the lightning was a bastion of Hawkers,
the last of summer’s cicada, and crickets.
My brother and I settled down in front of the radio,
that magical RCA marvel that brought nightly excitement,
bathing us in anticipation’s glow.
As we sat on the floor and looked up at it’s assent,
it seemed to rise disproportionately toward the ceiling.
Giving an air of mystery as moving curtains
cast its iridescent shadow, dancing and reeling,
rendering reality into a mode uncertain.
The clouds were moving in for a nightly storm.
Static popped and crackled as if part of the plot
as the announcer wove our minds out of the norm.
And just as dad left the room we heard a shot,
a scream and a blood curdling laugh and then......!
“Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men.....
The Shadow knows. hee hee hee heeeeeeee”
The Shadow, master of disguises, invisible to the eye.
He could control your thoughts and perception.
Just hearing him talk my little brother would cry.
There was always a good reason for deception.
And he had a good saying at the end of the shows.
“The weed of crime bears bitter fruit. Crime does
not pay.... The Shadow knows.”
~//~
Oct. 19 2010 Charles Henderson
2 nd in Paula's "Halloweens Passed"
A Kea is a parrot found in New Zealand
Also called Wobbly Keas, pranksters of birdland
Clowns of the mountains
Known to thousands
Of natives and tourists for fun loving diversions
I've chased dragons of destruction ever since I was a child
Turning meekness to a monster
Turning weakness into wild
Mild mannered turning viscous like a two gun fisted gangster
Laughing like a lunatic at those poltergeists and pranksters
Innocence into guilt
Once a garden now a ghetto
Those dragons breathing death leaving ashes,dust,and rubble
Young boy stuck in a bubble
Striking bullets...falling fast
As I chase destructive dragons I know this life won't last
Toxins taint my blood and bones
Poison floods my spirit
Pollution fills my heart and soul
I hear mad demons cheering
I see question marks and riddles as I'm twisting and I'm turning
Will they throw me in the lake of fire with fiends 4ever burning?
Truth gets told and lies I keep learning
Still my desire for those dragons it keeps 4ever yearning
The dragons of destruction
The dragons of disease
The dragon of my destiny was caught too easily
Now I realize in retrospect that monster's not just me
As I chase destructive dragons they continue chasing me
Even as a seasoned, no, jaded,
pub folksinger,
he still feels quite queasy about
night crowd temper;
at times he's sincerely booed or
jokingly applauded;
in either case he knows he's
actually insulted.
He doesn't seem to mind the sham fame
with its true ache;
though he's on a losing streak, he still
hopes for a break;
he's weirdly grateful for sober jeers
and drunken cheers
from jolly hecklers and teasing pranksters
quaffing beers!
Halloween moon shines bright
Along the dark streets at night
Little kids dressed as ghosts and goblins
Light up dark walkways and paths
Owls and black cats eerily decorate
Windowsills under orange mini lights
Everyone is out searching for candy
Even the grown pranksters are out for a
Night of fun filled laughter and pranks
Moonlight also casts shadows
On forgotten cemetery gravestones
Only to awaken sleeping spirits, but
No evil ones will be lurking tonight
9/24/19
Contest: Halloween Moon Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke
Today’s the day that mayhem rules
For pranksters known as April fools.
Through jest and folly they’ll provoke
And hope that all can take a joke.
Shenanigans and gags are fun
But they won’t work on everyone.
A jester has to know his crowd
To gauge what mischief is allowed.
Some people laugh off everything
While others suffer teasing’s sting.
On April Fools Day, even money
Says some pranks won’t come off funny.
Certain antics will appeal;
Others, though, will soon reveal
That what hits one man’s funny bone
May cause another to be thrown.
Celebrations galore on all Hallows eve
Eyes have a tendency to play tricks and deceive
Youngsters anticipate receiving a trick or a treat
Pranksters get a thrill from watching their victims retreat
Adults have opportunity to join in the fun
Perhaps dress as monsters and bash two parties not one
Bump into a scarecrow within a corn maze
Be careful or you'll wind up like a skeleton if you're lost for days
Enter at your own risk, a creepy haunted house
Hear a loud shriek around a corner, step lightly as a mouse
Beaming through the darkness is the light of a full moon
Eerie are the sounds of howling, you hope not to run into what's making them soon
Shadows are lurking, dancing and taunting
The trees themselves seem to be haunting
Look down as something brushes your leg, it happens to be a black cat
Swooping down towards you, is it a vampire or just simply a bat?
Crows are hovering above as you're nearing the cemetery
Unarmed, thoughts of a zombie apocalypse are a tad scary
Endless are the possibilities as your imagination takes flight
So much could happen under the magical influence of Halloween, a mysterious night
Magic bus curbed pranksters' zeal when
Misty's train track trip went rotten
Psychedelic metal feelin'
Magic bus curbed pranksters' zeal when
Groovy sparks of steel soared reelin'
All 'twas left was yellow cotton
Magic bus curbed pranksters' zeal when
Misty's train track trip went rotten
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Nancy Jones in the noonday heat of August 7, 2011
Inspired by Nette Onclaud and her contest, “In the Afterglow”
Imposters I say smiling Cheshire cats
Pranksters of evil swindling wall rats
Sneaking and sniffling without any shame
Heretics of judgmental disdain
Throwing blocks between love creating hate
Jealous seekers they are born at hell’s’ gate
Horns on their heads hooves on their feet
Smell worse than pigs no good to eat
Don’t let them close these creatures of pain
They’ll trick You and use you for their own gain.