Best Pus Poems
"Poets are Us"
The blood dripped
off each piranha's
sharpened fang
acquiescing
compliant
with tragic complacency
keep it neat and clean
within the margins
no detours
stick like Teflon
to the poetic rules
virtuous and unsoiled
aa bb cc dd
pristine are us
sanctimonious sugared pus
we live for
accolades are us
Dorothy reads
Poets are us.
Smiles wryly,
laughs
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
"Happiness"/ Goldfrapp
https://youtu.be/mnHlGONToIc
"The downward slippery slope...."
(Anonymous)
"Un Coeur Simple", Gustave Flaubert, 1877
https://interlinearbooks.com/blog/our-sixth-interlinear-translation-un-coeur-simple-by-gustave-flaubert/
https://www.encyclopedia.com/arts/encyclopedias-almanacs-transcripts-and-maps/simple-heart-un-coeur-simple-gustave-flaubert-1877
e-book
https://www.gutenberg.org/files/1253/1253-h/1253-h.htm
"Flaubert's Parrot", Julian Barnes
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flaubert%27s_Parrot
https://www.supersummary.com/flauberts-parrot/summary
e-book
https://pdf.allbookshub.com/general/flaubert-parrot.pdf
Categories:
pus, dark, humor, poets,
Form:
Free verse
Tender tear drops drip
like dreams from pain ted petals, as slowly, I
pick my path through the st inging nettles of every pain
filled word you say. You pus h me away with idle chattel,
as in my heart I fight this loosing battle. Can't you see I'm
so lonely without you. I would gladly be there to hold
your hand through life's insipid sorrow if you would
but let me. I would fill you with joy and make
you smile each day with fragrant lavender
roses. But I know you don't feel the
same. Your indifference hurts.
Am I so difficult to love?
I would joyfully give
you my world
if you let
me.
01/29/17
Categories:
pus, angst,
Form:
Shape
slithering snakes run silent
sleeping snakes lay deadly
awakened venom ready
while reigning as prone giants
breathe upright fools gather tolls
exhale hate and hued discord
bow in ranks to thy dark lord
ascending dust; marching trolls
march riotous foolery
spew venomous rhetoric
slither fork-tongued heretics
confess inflamed schoolery
o’ taste and see politics
halls unjust, wall-smears dark read
blood-soaked tiles seep pus instead
walking snakes hiss for boot-licks
Categories:
pus, allegory, america, change, leadership,
Form:
Quatrain
Decade of Bullets
Ouagadougou, Ouagadougou, Ouagadougou
See a procession of young mothers chattering their way
From water fountains in grenade torn sandals
And blood laced bras
Somalia, Somalia, Somalia
See the moon disappearing in a mass of gun smoke
Guns splitting the stars from the skin of night
Rwanda, Rwanda, Rwanda
This is a wound from which the pus of grief flows freely
Meandering through rock masses into the valley that lost its freedom
Timbuktu, Timbuktu, Timbuktu
I hear a rush of footsteps of sorrow
Rugged peasants carrying their compounds to far away valleys of flowers
Categories:
pus, africa, conflict, cry, culture,
Form:
Political Verse
Mild sun of winter
Spreads a love touch everywhere
Of happy Christmas
In the slum a child
Smiles in a red hibiscus
Petals of Jesus
Blankets offered to
Poor people standing in rows
Jesus in rainbow
In the hospital
Life smiles in bruise blood and pus
Footfalls of Jesus
Upon the sweet grass
Jesus smiles in drops of dew
Lovely Christmas hue
In Christmas flavour
To all poetry soupers
A merry Christmas
_______________________________________________
December 25, 2016
Categories:
pus, christmas, jesus,
Form:
Haiku
There is a corruption we all should abhor,
It starts on the left, and corrupts to the core,
Cancer of the soul, if left to go on,
It takes bit by bit, ’till the whole soul is gone.
Makes people think that there are no values,
That everything’s fine if it’s ‘true to you,’
Moral absolutes they loudly disclaim,
Then turn and wonder why the world seems insane,
Why their true feelings don’t bring happy lives,
Only leads to a black rage deep in inside,
‘being true to you’ is a moral perverse,
With no standard to judge, things get much worse.
What’s ‘true to one’s self’ for those fond of rape?
Should the serial killer show his ‘true’ face?
And what of the types who change ‘truth’ every week,
Then act offended if anyone speaks?
The corruption permits them to silence all,
Pushing more and more, until it all falls.
The corruption pushes out all real beauty,
Replaces it with the fecal and ugly,
Throws out the masters who’s work defies time,
Declares that splatter and blank space is ‘sublime.’
Renir, Bougereau, Bierstadt, and Degas,
Masters whose paintings amazed all who saw ,
Now me have charlatans, ‘artist statements,’
An art world that can’t uplift, just dement.
The same trend pus music into a plight,
Ignore Beethoven, ’cause his skin as white,
No longer to Mozart do critics clap,
But ‘es and ’hos,’ that’s where it’s at!
Celebrate decline, claim that it’s ‘sincere,’
As it there’s no ‘real’ behind beauty and cheer...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Categories:
pus, dark, how i feel,
Form:
Rhyme
There are some who say there’s no redemption
and we mustn’t waste time with this deception
There’s nothing we can do but move on
and perhaps we can see another dawn
There is no absolution for our indiscretions
and our past is past no need for our confessions
They ask, “are we to blame for the stain in us?”
No type of repentance can remove this pus
These desperate people have no hope
and every day they walk the tightrope
Death smiles at each of us they say
whether you are straight or gay
No need to waste your time pretending
that there is something worth defending
They say that no amount of praying
will ever save us from displaying
The putrid stain that keeps us craving
Categories:
pus, atheist, faith,
Form:
Couplet
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ki7rptpm85M
Quote: Stretch out your hand, move through me, write with me
Hands of light has he who lives inside and around our girth,
And when he touches us we feel like children of the light
No greater power on earth exists then the radiant beam of Christ
Deliverer of truth and wisdom he's the power behind our every
Step. A stretch of the hand and the sea calms down a laying of his
Opus works and the world is ours. Speak softly to him for He is your
Featherweight friend of old, He's a Father full of radiance and gold
Lift your eyes to Him and ask for a sunbeam from His Holy heart
Invite Him into your home and sup with Him at the font of night
Give Him every chance on earth to be part of your life's journey
He is the sunlit One who never stops to radiate love to everyone
Tell Him all your hopes and fears, I assure you, He's the one...
Categories:
pus, analogy,
Form:
Acrostic
Bill prodded his sebaceous cyst
‘Twas massive the size of his fist
It spurted green pus
His wife made a fuss
“Get treatment NOW, I must insist”
Blue lighted to the A & E
Huge spurting cyst medics could see
Bill’s livid butt boil
Made doctor’s recoil
Needs lancing now, they all agree
They bundle Bill onto a table
“Don’t sedate him” said his wife Mable
I will succinctly put
He’s a pain in the butt
I’m leaving him when I am able
The medics gave Bill’s boil a prick
Green gunky pus splurts, it’s so thick
Poor Mable was heaving
She said, “Bill I’m leaving
Because you’re an ignorant dick”
“You wouldn’t seek treatment for years
Your constant moans left me in tears
I’ll file for divorce
I’m leaving of course
I’m going to live in Algiers”!
Bills visage turned ever so pale
His final breath he did exhale
The cad passed away
There’s no more to say
I’ve finished the end of this tale!
Categories:
pus, body, humorous,
Form:
Limerick
"I look around me,
Covered in blood and pus I am.
Dead bodies lie flat on their faces,
of people all from different races.
My heart beats frantically in my chest,
As I walk through the depths of Hell; unpure and unblessed.
Darkness surrounds me like a cold, freezing blanket,
any living soul will be thankless.
I know now my position in this forsaken land,
I'm drowning in misery as fast as a quicksand."
Categories:
pus, deep, hurt, lonely, writing,
Form:
There are bastards in the world,
too many of them for my liking,
but they don’t care about my likes
or dislikes for they are bastards.
Bastards!!
Hollowed out beings filled with a
pus green aura of
disdain.
Bastards!!
Scumbags, callous miscreants,
lousy, scuzzball, son-of-a-bit-chin,
sleazebag weasels.
Bastards!!
Villainous,
snake in the grass rogues,
reprobate swine, spineless, jellylike,
amorphous lowlife scoundrels,
Bastards!!
John G. Lawless
2/3/2013
Categories:
pus, anti bullying, conflict,
Form:
Verse
Why Africa
Africa is yet again up in arms
And the host nation is South Africa this time
Africans, open your eyes and see
After these attacks what will we benefit
Xenophobia is like pus
The wound that is resistant to healing
Xenophobia is like mushrooms
Popping whenever a thunder of ignorance strikes
What did we mean when we jointly said
We, the people of South Africa
Declare for all our country and the world to know that
South Africa belongs to all who live in it, black and White!
In June 26 1955 a word went forth
The Kliptown word echoed through the globe
From that day on, South Africa’s mission
Was to accommodate all those who dwell in it
Now we are turning our backs to the world
Where our wealth is coming from
We have turned our nectar’s wealth into a doormat
Wiping our bloody hands with Freedom charter!
Can we really hide behind poverty
And blame foreign nationals for taking all our bread
Where else we struggle to make earns meat
Due to hand out attitude we adopted after apartheid
Our authorities has done well to appease sins of the past
They gave free education, social grants to name few
Other things can be free but we need to realize that
Self support requires hard work and innovation
My fellow brothers and sisters, Africans!
Resist ideologies that torn us apart
And employ neutrality to embrace other nationalities
Shun xenophobia and learn from one another.
Categories:
pus, africa, anti bullying, anxiety,
Form:
Slain without swords they are
Though the airy wordly air
They inhale yet in graceless lack
Behold in the colony of wretchedness
Naked children begging alms
From brothers-not brothers
See as flies soar above sores
On their broken soles pus to lick
From the leaking flesh of starving souls
Don't their ribs tell the origin of bones?
Aren't worms molesting their intestines?
Don't they a place share in the supreme likeness?
Deserted cold gutter-side is their safe haven at night
And without meals they exit in multiple batches
To account for the trilemma of their ragged souls
Categories:
pus, death, life, sympathy,
Form:
Pastoral
RIPAE BENI DEAU VER
In modus fasciculumque Brady pus.
Rogationes, confractum egemus.
Minara excommunica
Ripa nostra, sus amica,
Sic superbum precum, pape beatus.
Story:
http://www.sloveniatimes.com/president-to-attend-pope-francis-s-installation-mass#komentarji
The National Poet Of Slovenia In A Language People Understand moves in mysterious ways. Just ignore him.
www.jesus.si
Categories:
pus, angel, angst, art, bible,
Form:
Limerick
Putrid pus proliferates/purposely preventing
progression's passionate plea -
stifled cries...
Always ascending...and, assiduously avoiding
any acrimonious amounts accrued along apathetic
apertures..."Still I Rise!"
Incessantly fighting the urge to just drop
out of this rancid Rat Race we call living
Still, to abandon sanguine thoughts totally topples the
tenacious toughness that took time to temper...never stop giving
Enervated entities economically embattled
Man, each day we face trouble/In every Third World A Struggle -
singed and burned I'm like stubble/but, like The Ashes Of The Phoenix
to Resurrect from this rubble
Sometimes I shift towards arrogance; The Good Lord Keeps
me humble
Lifting languid limbs loftily to overcome this present Flood
Be Positive is my motto, the flip side?
It's my Blood...
B+
Categories:
pus, devotion, encouraging, growth, moving
Form:
Alliteration