Best Protested Poems
There was a fussy bovine named Flossy
who was snooty and always so bossy
her udders would droop
when she took a poop
She bellowed until her eyes got glossy
Flossy had teeth like a barracuda
Her biting habit just made her ruder
She's not very sharp
She spit when she'd harp
So I called a few friends and we shewed her
Then she threatened to have me arrested
Thought she'd beaten me and had me bested
Knocked her on her duff
She wasn't so tough
Alas, she kept right on and protested
I saw her on the street the other day
Her monstrous butt sat on a bale of hay
Stuck her tongue at me
Mooed, "Hello, ducky"
She trotted off when I aimed pepper spray
What a chunky hippo she has become
I think Flossy secretly sucks her thumb
Waddles when walking
Ranting and squawking
To senility, Flossy has succumb
Bovine creatures can be quite abusive
When they should be a closet reclusive
The more that they speak
The more that they reek
My findings are all justly conclusive
Categories:
protested, introspection,
Form:
Limerick
He worked at the local newspaper office.
I worked for his employer’s wife as a mother’s helper.
He had served his apprenticeship
and was now a full fledged printer
earning a magnificent sum of eight dollars a week.
My wages were three dollars per week.
Mrs. Miller found reasons for sending
me to the office frequently
and he was easy to talk to.
It wasn’t long before
he asked me to go to a movie
and I readily agreed.
Movies tickets at our local theatre
were twenty-five cents, usually.
The first movie we went to was called
“The Housekeeper’s Daughter”
starring Joan Bennett.
I don’t remember a thing about the story.
The next week he called again
and this time
the movie he wanted to take me to was
“Gone With The Wind”.
I protested that it was too expensive.
This time he would have to spend
fifty cents each on tickets
and the movie was so long that
there was an intermission
and I knew he would want
to buy refreshments, but
I didn’t take much persuading
and we went all out for that
evening of entertainment.
This time I did remember the story.
From that evening forward ,
he was a daily caller at our home
and my mother did her best
to keep him fed.
Most of our dates were merely
a stroll down town and back
as we had no car.
We heard on the radio that
Major Bowe’s Amateur Hour
was coming to a bigger town
about thirty miles away
and both of us decided we would like to
attend that function.
Money would be a problem
on our wages, so we decided
to save up for it.
One of us bought a dime bank and
we each put any spare dime we could,
into the bank.
It held five dollars.
We managed to have
five dollars worth of dimes
by the time the big day arrived.
Dad lent us his car
and off we went.
I don’t know what the tickets cost
but we had enough to buy them
plus enough to
indulge in an ice-cream soda
at the big town soda fountain.
1940 was the year our story started.
In March of 1941
he left for Detroit, Michigan
where he had heard he could find work
at a decent wage.
He sent a telegram
that he’d found a job
at $50.00 a week.
He had a minister and marriage license.
I had never been away from home before
but I traveled to Detroit and
we were married in July of 1941.
Honorable Mention
.
Categories:
protested, lovetime, me, time,
Form:
Narrative
Dedicated to a fine poet on soup, Lin Lane
-------------------------------------------------
I shook hands with my brother and bade him farewell
Then set off on my journey away from this hell
Mexico I’d head for and buy a small farm
Meanwhile back in town the guards raised the alarm.
A posse they assembled to help track me down
But saw some Apaches and hightailed it back to town
It was far from over, the Pinkertons were brought in
Determined they were, to carry out the hanging.
After three days riding my horse became lame
It slowed down my escape that made me fair game
Sold my horse at Santa Fe and boarded a train
Vowed I’d never come back to America again.
Two whole years went by and I was living free
Thought they’ve given up now, they’ll never find me
Bought a farm, met a girl, a beautiful senorita
Had two children both girls, Anna and Conchita.
One day I went to town to buy some supplies
The Pinkertons were there, I couldn’t believe my eyes
They arrested me at gunpoint and they took me to jail
I strongly protested my innocence but to no avail.
Spent a week in the jail while they sorted deportation
Paperwork completed, headed for the railroad station
After a long journey we arrived back in Colorado
They had the noose ready, they were raring to go.
All over the state the news was all about me
The Pinkertons just loved their new found glory
The night before the hanging I heard guns blazing
What happened after that was truly amazing.
About a hundred desperado's invaded the town
Burst into the jail and told me to lie down
The sound was deafening as they shot at the lock
The Pinkertons stood speechless, they were in shock.
I went out into the street and a voice said to me
“We only found out because of the publicity”
Then out of the shadows came a face I knew well
My twin brother once more had rescued me from hell.
He said “join our gang and we’ll ride far away”
I said “crimes not for me and one day you’ll pay”
Rode back to Mexico to round up my family
Then headed to Brazil where I now live and I’m free.
Lin suggested a part deux so I was inspired to write a sequel, thanks Lin.
Categories:
protested, america, children, family, horse,
Form:
Rhyme
I opened my eyes at birth
and cried out in shock and pain.
For I found myself on Earth
and it seemed strange and arcane.
I didn't want to be here
in this world of hate and scorn.
And with clenched fists and a tear
I protested being born.
I left the warmth of the womb
for a future with no past.
And my birth will end in doom
for life is not meant to last.
God intends souls to suffer,
or at least it seems that way.
For life keeps getting tougher,
and it doesn't help to pray.
I search for a glint of hope
in a world devoid of light.
And though I've learned to cope,
misery's not far from sight.
One day I will be no more
life will simply slip away.
And death will slam shut the door
that opened on my birthday.
(Quatrain)
2/13/2015
Categories:
protested, birth, feelings, how i
Form:
Quatrain
Once there was a famous king,
More famous than Ozymandias.
His name was King Wolf.
Sultan was his nickname.
He called himself a benevolent despot;
And his style of government
A ‘democratic dictatorship.’
He spoke good English—
A foreign language, though;
Only a minor problem with 'l' and 'r':
Once, for instance, a reporter asked him,
"What about elections, Your Majesty?"
His response:
"Why, I have them everyday!"
The poor reporter was thoroughly confused.
His kingdom was a land of superlatives:
The oldest civilization,
The largest standing army,
The largest population,
The largest exporter—of people,
The largest emitter of carbon dioxide,
Now the second largest exporter of goods, too,
And will soon be the largest.
Since his was the most populous kingdom,
Demography was his obsession,
Which he called his specialization.
Of course, Sultan had tried his best
To check population growth—
By means of family planning.
It didn't work.
So he curbed people’s Right to have children.
But still there was a huge difference
Between the optimum number
And ground reality!
Therefore, Sultan hatched a wonderful plan:
Started a war with a friendly neighbour.
Every section of twenty soldiers in his army
Had just one primitive rifle between them:
If a soldier went on,
He would be shot.
If he went back,
Again, he would be shot.
A Catch-22!
Many of his men were slaughtered.
But still Sultan won—by sheer numbers!
Oh, God!
But the King did not believe in God.
Like king, like people!
But the dead soldiers were only a small number.
So, now another plan:
Government is the boss.
Let people overwork.
Sultan cracked the whip.
And a number of people died—
Of overwork, year after year.
Further reduction in population.
Production increased:
Cheap goods flooded the world market:
From PCs to push-up bras.
No warranty.
The economy boomed.
Ah, his kingdom became a Big Power!
But once some workers gathered
In the Capital and protested—
Against exploitation.
The name of Karl Marx was in the air.
“Listen,” Sultan roared, “Marx died—
Long ago.
So should you—now,
For raising his name in vain.”
So, still further reduction in population!
Now, when this narrative ended,
Sultan was busy, planning for another war.
Poor soul!
How else could he solve the problem—
Of overpopulation?!
***
Categories:
protested, irony, satire, , ozymandias,
Form:
Narrative
A Dog Named Sex
My pooch is not named Rover, Fluffy, Spot or Rex.
I wanted something different, so I named my puppy, Sex.
To renew my doggie’s license. I went down to City Hall.
“I’d like a license for Sex”, I said. He said, “Wouldn’t we all?”
“You must not have understood, I need it for my mutt.”
“I really don’t care how she looks, if she’s ugly, fine or what.”
“But Sir, I must tell you, I’ve had Sex since I was four!”
You are no more than a braggart”, and he showed me out the door.
Newly married, we brought our pet along for the honeymoon.
I told the clerk, “A place for us and for Sex, a special room.”
“Every room has a place for sex. Every room has a bed.”
“But Sex keeps me up at night.” “It keeps me up, too”, he said.
At our divorce the court gave all my possessions to the wife
I protested, “Please Your Honor, I had Sex before my married life!”
The judge then said that he did, too. “It’s not a real big crime”
“But Sir, before we tied the knot, I had Sex all the time”
The judge said that I could still have sex, so I took my hound and ran.
My wife then said that she’d miss Sex, so I stayed a married man.
Last night Sex ran off again as we walked around the block.
A cop pulled up and asked me if I knew it was three o’clock.
I told him that I was looking for Sex and he took me straight to jail.
Now I’m waiting for my trial to come and can’t get out on bail.
…if I ever get another dog, I think I’ll name him,
“Whoopie” or “Boom-Boom!” Anything but Sex!
Categories:
protested, animal, best friend,
Form:
Light Verse
June Second at the beach we played scrabble
He protested the use of “ode”
I told him of the “Ode to Billy Joe”
With friends we laughed the entire way home
And when they left, Daniel proposed
He tied a string 'round my finger, said it would be replaced by a ring
It was the Third of June
(another sleepy, sandy Florida day)
When Daniel picked me up for a dip in Dog Lake
I suggested we swim across
He was reluctant, but swam anyway
Reaching the middle of the lake
“I can’t make it,” he called to me
“You’re kidding,” I laughed, turning to see
Daniel splashing futilely
Although I tried to pull him to shore,
We crossed underwater plants
He must have thought they were snakes and broke away
Dark water with tannic acid
Where did he go? I screamed for help
The search was underway when paramedics arrived
Linking hands, everyone walked into the water
But it was Daniel’s friend Art who found his hand
“It was like he was reaching out to me,” he said
Of course, it was too late
My sweet man had met his fate
And I made a vow
Every June Third, I drive out to Dog Lake
Remembering the good times we shared
And praying Daniel found eternal rest
*Entry for Joann’s contest. True story.
Categories:
protested, lost love, dog, dog,
Form:
Free verse
The suicidal King and the one eyed Jack
Were perusing the bar for a late evening snack
"How's her?" asked the Jack.
"Too thin," said the King.
"I like the women...
with bottoms that swing."
"How's she?" asked the King.
"Too plump," said the Jack.
"I like the women...
with a nice tight rack."
The Queen of Hearts pulled her panties up with a snap
And shoved The Beast's craw off her god forsaken lap
Shut her eyes, held her breath and rolled out of bed
And tiptoed out the door
Without a word said,
The Beast was OK
An Ace he was not
Confused, she strolled to the bar
for a late evening shot
"You pig," cried the Queen
"Who me?" pleaded the King.
"I can't believe you have the decency
To still wear your ring."
The king looked her up and down,
sole to soul and foot to crown
He knew something was wrong,
almost RIGHT AWAY
For one, there was a smile on her face
That seemed to last ALL DAY
"You ****," cried the King
"Who me?" questioned the Red Ace
"Not you!" said both King and Queen
"How could you stand there and lie to my face
with your button half undone
and your stockings out of place?"
"How could you?" cried the King.
"You don't deserve to wear that crown
With your bra strap twisted up
And your dress falling down."
"I'm leaving," protested the Queen
And she would've I know
Except sometimes
Love waits until the last minute to show
"Wait," cried the King, but he stopped
He had decided to call her bluff
And he turned his back
Even though it was tough
Because also sometimes
Loving someone just isn't Enough.
By: Joseph DeMarco
Categories:
protested, funny
Form:
Rhyme
I feel like I'm drowning
down in the deep sea
trying to escape
from all my problem(my pain)
I wished I was never born
they said I wasn't good enough
I listened but never protested
I smile all day crying all night
I looked okay but I wasn't alright
hard to explain they talk to much
as if they know everything about me
the hate inside their heart
like I have done something to them
I looked to them
a girl with no feeling
I asked myself
if I really am like that
I wondered seeking for an answer
trying to stop my pain
hard to explain
I said why bother to cry
why bother to give a about them
I wish they could see my pain
but know I don't care
putting my problems aside
I just wanna live
Just my dream life
Categories:
protested, 8th grade, abuse, anger,
Form:
Bio
This is a test
It's only a test
wait ... this can't be a test
if this were a test
you'd be directed to your seat
This is not a test
I Repeat
This is not a test
in the event of an actual test
you would need a sharpened
number 2 pencil
(why not number 1)
(did that one break?)
and you'd be required to
put away all electronic devices
(how silly)
If said test were tested
would it be protested?
would I be arrested?
if I persisted and peacefully resisted?
all the while undressed
addressing those invested
tempting tempers tested
at tests detested?
*this futile attempt at humo(u)r will
self destruct in 30 seconds or less*
This has been a test
or was it?
Categories:
protested, fun, humor, nonsense,
Form:
Free verse
When I first saw you, you were just another pretty face in the crowd, another student, another stranger. But one night that all changed.
Suddenly I saw you in a new light. You moved from stranger to friend in the blink of an eye. You captured my attention.
Weeks went by and our friendship grew. You never knew my feelings for you, but what could I do? Several relationships passed by as I watched you love and get hurt, wishing I could ease the pain.
I played the "just friends" part well, almost too well. I wish I had had the courage to tell you how I felt; but I remained silent. I was afraid of your rejection.
Finally things changed in my favor. You started to take an interest in me, and my heart jumped for joy. We spent time together and my feelings for you grew in leaps and bounds.
You were my first kiss, and to this very day, you still don't know. We weren't together, but everyone looking at us from the outside would know the difference. You were my Romeo and I was your Juliet.
It was perfect for a while, but then life hit us like a ton of bricks. Suddenly everything fell apart and I was pulled into the swift undertow. I was losing you . . .
I did everything I could to salvage the pieces, but there were too many and I couldn't do it on my own. You said you were leaving me and my heart shattered. I tried to hold it in, tried to play it off as insignificant, but you saw through my facade.
You said I was strong, but in that moment I felt so weak. You said you were "just a guy" but my heart protested the thought. You meant the world to me, but you didn't believe it.
You couldn't see the tears coursing down my cheeks. Could feel the pain tearing though my heart, or hear the unspoken words in my mind, "I think I'm falling in love with you".
Categories:
protested, first love,
Form:
Free verse
The Two goldfish Eric and jaws are swimming around in their bowl on a glass coffee table located in a small apartment block just south of Manhattan’s lower east side .
they begin a conversation about the origins of life.
jaws turns to eric and says ,
"there must be more than this" ?,
Eric replies "don't be ridiculous The world around you is the only one that has life ,the great sprinkler in the sky made us in his own image we clearly came from monkeys he exclaimed ",
jaws the other goldfish scowling,
protested at this remark,
"then who built the statue that stands amongst the silent green ? ,Jaws gestured toward the bottom of their bowl .
"And it Doesn't look like us".
Eric swam on a little further before replying,
"our kind made it many sprinkles ago",
as a tribute, they were simple fish back then , savages even !
that were clearly clueless".
Jaws stopped swimming, "savages ? , that were able to build such a magnificent statue ,with just gravel tools ?, we can't even do that today ! .
"Keep swimming"
Eric exclaimed , or you will ascend up wards and the great sprinkler will take you into the sky" !.
At this jaws swam on , " so you think we are all there is and no other life exists anywhere else" ?.
Eric chuckled "we should not question but just except the fact evolution and the sprinklers teachings are the law and the only dictates we need.
And the world is not the way you
Perceive the world to be ,young jaws of that I promise you ".
At this point of their conversation The two fish had made a five second revolution of the bowl which in their time had = their worlds space nicely , one turned to the other and they began a conversation about the origins of life jaws says to eric "there must be more than this" to which the Eric replies "don't be ridiculous .............
Categories:
protested, allegory, crazy, fantasy,
Form:
Free verse
A warped board on a bench seat
causing discomfort
to an old bum, an aching foot,
a touch of pity all came to keep me
self-sealed inside a bag of skin.
I took no note of the river
almost licking at my feet,
the evening's prayerful quiet,
the sky slowly switching on
its nightly extravaganza of stars.
I was too far into myself
to see past my rim.
One can get lost in a stare,
that blank, formless blur
reflecting the endless distances
stretching across the self.
I was bubbled there.
Then slowly things happened,
a tugboat went past, seagulls
protested my presence,
the smell of river mud
thickened the air.
I stepped out and saw
an old man on a bench seat
who I have long known,
brushed the dandruff
from his shoulders,
helped him up and walked
him home.
Categories:
protested, eve, river, self,
Form:
Free verse
I have never been arrested,
abused, discarded, neglected.
All because someone protested,
it’s my color they detested.
I have always been protected,
accepted, respected, vested.
Civil rights never molested,
my freedom never contested.
No one has ever suggested,
because I’m black I’m now suspected.
To be so badly infected,
that it cannot be corrected.
Let this message be digested,
if we want this life perfected.
We must all become connected,
to a world that’s not divested.
Categories:
protested, poetry,
Form:
Rhyme
The old saw "Go West, Young Man" is attributed to Horace Greeley,
But it was coined by a writer from a Terre Haute paper, really!
Horace was agin' westward expansion and was filled with doubt,
So in 1839 he decided to travel west to see what it was all about!
He traveled by Concord stage which was then in its Golden Age,
Crossin' desert, plain and Rockies, bravin' robbers and Osage.
On the trek esthetic Horace rubbed shoulders with pious preachers,
Gamblers, sozzled drunks, "soiled doves" and decorous teachers!
He arrived in Carson City, Nevady needin' a speedy coach to reach
Placerville, Californy where he was scheduled to give a speech.
Now drivin' the swayin' stage to Californy who would a-thunk,
That hapless Horace would be ridin' with celebrated Henry Monk!
"Hang on, Mister Greeley. I'll git you thar with time to spare!"
With that he cracked his whip - the horses took off in a tear!
Passengers were bounced about as Hank avoided stumps and boulders,
Hurtlin' thro' mountain passes rife with precipitous shoulders!
Horace protested loudly to Hank to express his trepidation,
Sayin' he warn't in that much of a hurry to reach his destination!
Upon arrival, somewhat shaken, from the stage he reeled down.
An inauspicious appearance for a gentleman of such renown!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Categories:
protested, funny
Form:
Rhyme