Best Rapscallion Poems
From shore to deep, the colors of the sea,
tan sand and white meringue bursting forth.
Can you picture the lovers on the edge
long after they're gone?
Footprints of fun
and frolic.
The ghost, of bikini and boxers
painted pretty with tropical flowers, on bods.
The ocean wall, an enigmatic blue and sand monster
like a cloudy day sky. It has the look of adventure
as it cascades.
I want to climb it’s peak,
examine it’s underwings.
Toes sink, knees deep, waist high -
I’m just an earthling enamored with the mystic sea.
When on a cruise deck, and God shut the lights off,
except for the moon
and stars,
I want to lean over -
don’t stop me as I dive with my prayers and imagination
into the frothing lullaby -
its rocking,
sloshing,
satisfying.
I hug the ocean more than any tree. It cools me,
surrounds me with
danger,
love,
romance…yes,
swashbuckles me, captures me, and lets me go.
The ocean let Jonah go and so did the great fish,
but I will not let the sea free me so easily. This salt
has it in her blood,
even standing too close
to the rocks
near the lighthouse that illuminates a warning.
Mrs. Muir saw the Captain in her dreams, full-bearded -
the cape cottage window open to the endless tide.
The danger now is not sharks nor shipwrecks
but the needles in the sand, the chasing off
of blanketed lovers by the unsavory beach pirates.
Us earthlings
must clean up our ebb and flow.
Illuminate me on pink sands. Draw me into a rapscallion tale.
I shall cross swords on the deck as the sea comes to my rescue.
There is a state of mind known as woebegone
In which one feels like an addict on methadone
The more one tries to feel upbeat
The more one suffers mental defeat
And the mind plays on like a gramophone.
8
The boys outside the bar appeared rapscallion
Their actions were downright reptilian
Every time a girl would walk by
One would let out a loud cry
Acting just like an overheated young stallion
8
There was an old lady from New Jersey
Who recently moved to Poughkeepsie
She met this old fart
In a local Kmart
And the two proceeded to get quite tipsy
8
Roger was smug and a bit of a grandee
Others viewed him as somewhat of a dandy
The girls giggled and downright snickered
Because they knew he sought entry to their knickers
But alas, with buttons and zippers he just wasn’t handy
8
Bobby was well known for his generosity
But also known for his excessive gulosity
He would take you to lunch anytime
But always state “what’s left over is mine”
And clean the table with the utmost ferocity
8
There was this old man from Toledo
That liked to parade around in his speedo
The old ladies would giggle
Watching his sagging butt jiggle
But it did little or nothing for their libido
8
There is this retired gentleman in south Buda
Who would like to vacation in Bermuda
But his poem book didn’t sell worth squat
Now he’s stuck with who knows what
As he reads travel brochures in his pad in south Buda
8
There is this Colorado guy in the Springs
Whose Windows computer does unusual things
The damn screen turned permanently black
So he went out and bought a new Mac
Now he doesn’t answer when his telephone rings
8
GOODLUCK
Gutless muffled monarch wooed millions to the poll,
Our feeble lord enforced by pathetic speech of poverty (I once had no shoes)
On congruent grounds of pain we forced him, though we hated his coterie.
Disappointed, we wail waiting surrogate to lead to unending journey of relief
Lackluster, jejune as pervading rot lingers
Unvaried captain rocks our boat, gagged around by plunderers.
Circles of death, twinge, pauperdom and miseries mocks the reign of naivety.
Kleptocrat adorn self in regalia, loved the honor. lacks duty
EBELE
Embezzlers of collective trust bequeathed in hope,
Bandits as conniving ministers besmirched our obtuse scamp
Egregious, craven, shrieked at the sound of war (I am not a lion)
Laggard lumper loon left fanatical murderers at our doorsteps
Encumbrances from his delinquent clan divide the love for mother land
DAME
Damp squib's duchess of indecent tongue, never feels a vestige of restraint
Academic 'double misnomer' with licence to libel,
Merriment and intrigue feigned as obligations,
Edgy. encumbrance though ceaselessness forms their amity.
PATIENCE
Punk pretending and purloining to private vaults
Adventurous nerve for futile globe trot
Twitchy at the affairs of state, though Unemployed by sensible Poll
Intoxicated by serendipity, shaming all with activity
Euphemistic drama Usurps Scrappy literacy on cultured observers
Crude verbiages to amuse myriad of eggheads (my Fellow widows)
Encomium of Yesterday's approval turned sour and Tsar inept mode prevails
Jokers jostled in enthusiasm to rule, (politicking for 2015)
Onslaught from 'Boko-Haram' drove sleep from wearied countrymen
Numbed as "hoipolloi" echoed NO to mistimed removal,
Alas, the fraud, rapscallion looted the poor to a blindfold
Tyrannic cloaked his garb in power busted on the streets with the troop
Higgledy-piggledy bugled the travesty of Democracy
Amidst the rubble of a crumbling amalgam
Nigerian Lords watched the drama secured among a troop we die helpless
Charming and filled with humorous doggy characters, so unique
I’m floored when I think of an aussidoodle, or a scotchi‘s fido physique
Pages of dogs all breeds and places, RG’s fun reads, an original book
Find Doggy Limerick Circus on sale at Barnes & Noble’s Nook
Crème de la crème, no one loves man’s best friend as much as Mr. Gorelick
The dog park for research he haunts, with care and confidence each limerick
A gent of distinction, and a prominent member of the Poetry Soup
Albeit a sequel in works, posts limerick endearing quirks, stays in the loup
Generously saved a space for the Queen of Limericks Beryl Edmonds
Belle renowned for fly and lyrical poetry, and quick reply limerick add ons
Using wry humor to support poets, and he stands tall with steely gray hair
Retired, he hikes whilst his poetry’s impassioned with his own fiery flair
Never a vibe of a rapscallion baddy, this tribute I post because he is deserving
Venerable with age, a mentor with sagacious advice, well received and alluring
Those unfamiliar with our RG; an inspiring poet, supremely nice and giving
A former teacher of elementary special ed, he taught the disabled for a living
B'for that, a Navy photographer on the USS Coral Sea reckless never nervous
I want to congratulate you on your book and to thank you for your service!
*fly slang for hip
I've dabbled in the written word
Fighting to be heard
Sharing my pain for years
Doing my best to hide my tears
The days in a dark haze
Mired in malicious malaise
But hey, I'm still alive
And boy do I strive
To get beyond all of that
So I trimmed the fat
I found ways to get into trouble
Some things should have stayed in the thought bubble
But I put on the brakes
And learned from my mistakes
And I've bled for my creed
And it gave birth to a seed
That if I could temporarily cope
I'd eventually find hope
And recover from the fights
And the lonely nights
It's hard to articulate I was mentally unwell
But perhaps it's best not to dwell
So here I do tell I'm ascending ever higher
And in my heart is a fire
Knowing tomorrow
I'll be free of this sorrow
Word after word you've all seen it all
How I had no choice but to fall
But see I heeded the call
And now I assuredly stand tall
And though I'm a troublemaker
I'm also a subtle faker
I never learned how to properly write
Even if my words burn bright
Indubitably immaculately intelligent
I'm in Hell again
But this time I'm just passing by
To show me why
I went through it to make myself better
No longer chained to the debtor
For my debts are paid
And my future is made
So I've dabbled in the written word
But no longer fighting to be heard
PARTY IMITATION
boy watches
birthday video
oh spouse! oh brother!
two bro-in-laws, and
dear old dad, a full
living color gift
dance to the tune:
YMCA
i know y’all can hear it
in your head.
their hands form each letter
“Y” “M” “C” “A”
shirts shimmy
up the tummy
red-headed rapscallion
two year old toddler
smirks
from the other side
of the camera
up goes his shirt
5/19/2017
Old king’s granny was Fitzgerald’s nanny
She found him in every nook and cranny
Fritz- Fitzgerald’s dog
A rapscallion rogue
Went straight to the king and cried out "zany"
granny/Limerick/ (C) Rajat Kanti Chakrabarty 21 November 2014
FOREVER DRIVEN
Feminine desire bags my life in a bin
And yet lust remains my greatest sin
Aware i am of the deadly syndrome
Still my manhood gains more momentum
Insanely guided towards this crazy passion
Always digging and searching with much emotion
Like a raging sea speaks my pathetic fallacy
Only the opposite gender might understand this energy
Alternatively offered the riches of life
But like a rapscallion I go on and strive
Yet doomed I am, the best philander created
Forever driven I remain strongly embedded!
Again these men comes to mind,
Paid to say yes and nay,
Lame duck,
Canker, ***** rapscallion minds
Incorrigible,
Political impostors detached from the humdrum of street cries
Maggots in honor
Damp squib temples of legislators
Dishonorable honorable,
Rotund circles of rascals
Fellows fit for the gallows
Clamping on huge figures,
While masses groan in penury and misery
These men,
Myopic spendthrift
Guilty of our nation’s scraggy state
Yet so confused to order the path of the clueless dummy
Who imposed tax on all, by military orders
Ignoring the pleas, and rightful protesters
Turned tyrannical with marching murderer on Lagos Street
Their gains is from the pain of myriads of unemployed
The beggars,
The homeless,
Hungering and the dying,
Yet, these,
Profligate band of quipster
Queasy brains,
Feigning parliamentary proceedings,
Though,
Benighted of procedural skills,
Bootleg insane scoundrels
Go to now, you dunce,
Senators are no thief
Legislators are honorable men
Your reputation!
Mud eaten,
Ask the people, they know so well,
Your inscriptions are carved on the web
The insignia of corrupt men
You pride faded,
Honor, a high price you must pay to regain,
Not with money
You banter and wade it off,
Glory in these,
Your temporal pride,
Your mansions outlive you,
Your coffins called cars
Your billions in Zurich,
Your fears to face the people
And the mockery of Truth
When your time is over,
Time shall mock your reigns of folly,
With sicknesses of nameless brand,
Retrospectively,
Sufferers will call to mind, the avoidable denials,
Their pains, their poverty in your pride against your master- THE PEOPLE,
Welcome to your misery
as the masses will watch you die
rascal of usurps seats of honor, don’t call them fools.
A rapscallion
Pit Peterson
A sine qua non
Of Village Hay
A Quid pro quo
A Squid or roe
For Aeneid Poe
Of pillaged Bay
a tsunami catapulted cruising skiff
skyward landing with quiet thud
across undulating infinite granular waves
formerly solid state rocks and minerals
optimism vibrant upon initial unforeseen
crash asper for test dummies
foundered as undertow fostered diminishing hope
initial faith for survival quickly ebbed
nsync with retreating tidal wave
pessimism dreamt fantastical holograms
farther from beached berth
immediately transformed into quicksand,
while off in the distance
a glimmering chimera
(the first of many) appeared
amidst the desert sands one mirage
after another falsely broken promise
buoyed drained salvation
quick decision decreed each man for himself
thus disseminating banded bruited "brothers"
condemnation, damnation, excoriation, fulmination
hurled at cosmic creator thwarting intercession
dehydration, exhaustion, ingratiation, jubilation
foretold merciless portentous demise
witheringly desiccating lovely bones of mine
no doubt raw elements of nature wrought
fate worse than death sans, cabin "mates"
lost among expanse of whittled quartz
across chronometer measuring millions of years
now subjecting one measly mortal i.e. me
to cruel unforgiving, unrelenting,
unwelcoming petty coated junction
blistering hot wind obliterated
fellow travelers convoy deeply
within diabolical dunes
eternally erased doom
awaited for 21st century explorers
to discover scattered wreckage
both beast of burden, outrigged contrivance
and starry trekkers, who vanished without a trace
a handful of scrappy rapscallion existences
blotted (like ink, oil, or other liquid sponged),
where subsequent seasons
of wicked bewitched slow torture
akin to being raked over hot coals
exception made for this interminable sufferer
at the whim of sadistic
persona non grata evil spirit
n'er obliterating diehard survivor instinct
a foreigner to yours truly
but atavistic primitive fight or flight
witnessed relieved whence absently blinking
this life married to indiscriminate
clamped, harried, styled devilishness
evaporated in thin air
upon tentatively opening myopic brown eyes
horror, twas boot a dream.
We peep through grated beams in the dark confines,
Kept in chains by the tyranny of audacious jailers,
unending cynosure of profligates and imposters:
ruining the destinies of million wearied sufferers.
criminals fit for the gallows,
morons from the days of the colony.
dictators in military attires.
and simpletons kept in power for temporary ease.
our heirloom forced from us by old monsters.
cabals of criminals, greedy goons, men untutored in reputation.
Felons and rapscallion from the military barracks,
too old for modern ideas.
we are burdened along by colonial tyranny,
in a country where destinies are suspended in the gale,
and youths are forced into their own crimes of stealing.
we could not speak our sentiment freely.
we are fettered and riveted by their guns.
The sword above us, tyranny of archaic mind.
dreamy theorist acting as lords over multitudes of docile lots.
men made to cringe and fawn bowing and stooping to the
threatening of their guns.
They armed assassins and sufferers alike,
paid a trifling sum from the proceeds of corruption,
to keep the masses away from them as old baron loot the treasury,
this open prison of fancied freedom,
where marauders employed by the states with a gun to kill,
trans versing the south with AK47/.
terrorist renamed bandits by religious sympathizers.
from the porous borders of North,
comradely of Fanatics and bigots of the sword sect.
Clandestinely overrunning the land.
Freedom is a crime to fools.
those who dares becomes enemy of states.
assaulted by “operation python” dance.
or raided by Lawless DSS.
This is but a Jihad disguised as government.
The road is a trap of death,
we sleep as watchers waiting for the sword.
we starve amidst multitudinous resources,
they Lend to keep us in Bondage.
The crude in the south.
and all the resources are carted away to the North
to pay terrorist.
A state crimes condoned.
we groan,
we dare not speak as their armed assassin are
ready to silence the Voice of Truth.
one more Truth for the Jailer from the North.
A ten-foot-high sunflower man
with a gold-capped tooth in his mouth but
there ain't no plan
yet he wears the same old knotty
dreadlocks again and again
While walking himself through
Black Folk's yard in that bebop-style
no doubt along the avenue road
while smoking some of that sweet sweet Gunga
Yet, him so full of himself
rasta man young rapper
you rapscallion, did you bring the juice
Toy Ukele not a Bellowing Bugle
What it certainly surely seemed like to me
Trump thinks he's a character cute as can be
And if of him you had a herd or battalion
Probably would appear as if a rapscallion.
Only thing to do that he feels compelling
Is, of course, the truth never be telling
Also latest thing all of us recently found
He enjoys bouncing big numbers around.
What will he want to please us with today?
Completely ridiculous what all he did say
Heard something about him that was swell
Bible he brought with him is from his hotel.
Then we really liked at him with a scowl
When all he wore was a Trump Hotel towel
And from of course we knew where it came
In many places bright towel bore his name.
He even had brought us towels by the batch
And just like his fair hair they all did match
Also we could tell he had been being frugal
Bought toy ukulele with him instead of bugle.
We were told that wherever he would go
He was sure to put on a really big show
What we wish he would have done instead
Be lead by Ed Sullivan but he is now dead.
Ho Ho.
Jim Horn
FOREVER DRIVEN
Feminine desire bags my life in a bin
And yet lust remains my greatest sin
Aware i am of the deadly syndrome
Still my manhood gains more momentum
Insanely guided towards this crazy passion
Always digging and searching with much emotion
Like a raging sea speaks my pathetic fallacy
Only the opposite gender might understand this energy
Alternatively offered the riches of life
But like a rapscallion I go on and strive
Yet doomed I am, the best philander created
Forever driven I remain strongly embedded!