Best Ruble Poems
Craze comes out of barrel of joy,
Joy, what makes you behave coy,
Coyness, a thing that would get a toy
From the soul, hands of a smart lil' boy
That his head bobs in saving his mother,
Mother, the filial original not really similar
Similar? To the father, rasp voice that quiver
From the garden of marital rupture. It'ld linger
Over the elms of gut, ebbing with the tide
Of bliss ended. Never should beings all hide
The love, warmth of family. Filial code to side
A broken china, a shattered shuttle that'ld bide
Brittle bliss. Come in the evenings and laugh
At the debris of the drum, a rumble of cough
Upon anodyne ruble of ruin. Feed from trough
O! Love if you aren't life. Then live quickly, rough.
Categories:
ruble, depression, inspirational, life, lost
Form:
Didactic
Government policies that toilet stink
Presidentially approved
by a potty-mouth politrician rat-fink
Give the progressive town halls
more executive bathroom stalls
Read the foul language scrawls
on the Oval Office latrine
dollar-bill green painted walls
Flush the rank noise
with a few
smelly issue tissue tweet bawls
That dung aroma gon make your nose blink,
bowel vapors
will have your thoughts vomiting in the sink
Get the voting public
standing at nausea attention
Prep the ballot masses of breathy dissension
with sound bytes
of bitter chocolate bung mint,
duly veto sent
Tell ‘em it’s their sworn patriotic duty
to greedily eat the excrement
Taste the butt-hole flavor
of nasty worded inhalation torment
Truth got swallowed whole ... intestinal sold
Filthy lucre lips
do love the ruble con savor
Condition the brownie-nose party bound chumps
to double dip the cow chips
into the raw sewage salsa with the brown lumps
Be stricken by the loose tongue,
back-end diet
of diarrhea verbose crying
A cheeky butt buffet ...
odious motives with odoriferous intent
Buy the all-you-can-eat lying,
go feast on the swirling fear excrement
Categories:
ruble, political, satire, slam, truth,
Form:
Rhyme
The Angel
Heart of Peace
In the hills and glens of the Bosnian homelands
Roamed the Serbian chetniks, with swords of the devil
In the name of nationalism
Raping and killing, burning and pillaging
Their aggressions they called it defending
Carkic the rapist of all of humanity
Drank himself to a stupor
To hide his soul from his very own gods
As he burned the villages, children and all
How can such evil stand so tall?
From the ruble of hate, and Serbian addictions
There rises an angel from the concentration camps
Malice none, for her heart is filled with compassion
She listens to the victims, her kindness is her fashion
Esmuda Mujagic, content to build bridges to rainbows true
She is an angel of inspirations
Asking only for warmth for the victims of torture
No reprise is sought, only admissions of truth
So through forgiveness, life can mend and flourish
Instead arrested and harassed
The soldiers of Serbia, still carrying on
Categories:
ruble, angel, love, war, wisdom,
Form:
Free verse
Stalin
Where are you Stalin
Is winter
We have deeds to perform
Equality to give
Winters snow shall freeze the mind
Christmas troikas
To the dachas’ of death
We all morn and laugh
The communism dream
Hides inside a vodka bottle
I want to dance with you Stalin
Kiss your cheek
For if I live in the past
I can rest my bones
Knowing Putin does not yet exist
I may hide under the ruble
My Tatu displays my displeasure
At all of you
You not gonna get us
In the end
Red Army dreams shall fade away
Categories:
ruble, history, philosophy, remember, snow,
Form:
Light Verse
My golden ego soars higher than yours
I can hold my breath longer underwater
of course,
because my publican lungs are stronger than yours
I can outshout your taxing voice
to the heavens with a prideful text roar
I’m the big button lying king,
that’s for truth ducky sure
Everything I have is bigger than yours
Exaggeration is a lawsuit I wear well,
fancy-laced shegnanians is the shoes I boot you with —
Patent leather pardon free get-out-of-jail
Put a deflecting shine on the witness stand,
make the gullible masses
see me as being smarter than I really am
I bigly roll with the donor class society swells
I take a bigger leak from my Wall Street
inside trader executive bathroom Tower mole tell
My greed is bigger than yours ...
Got great white sharkey needs,
on little flunky guppies I love to gorge
My cyber jaws are bigger than life,
that’s why
Tricky Twitter Moby Dick I
voted for myself ruble roulette twice
I’m a most unpopular populist prez
with no moral boundaries
Don’t try to fence me in,
make me chicken scratch fake news little again
My nihilistic narcissism is bigger than yours,
you best believe
I can sexually harass
better than Willie Boy Clinton
could ever achieve
I’m a business caveman
whose twin brass clubs are bigger than yours
I’ll take your woman,
and with a misogynist leash make her walk on all fours
My serial debts
are bankrupt corrupt much bigger than yours
I bowl a perfect money laundry game
with a mob marked counterfeit score
Mine covetousness is so much bigger than yours
Got more trophy wives than you do,
so king me on the divorce checkerboard
My nuclear button boasts are bombastic bigger than yours ...
and I’ll blow you out the water onto barren refugee shores,
if you don’t lip bow unbutton inflate —
Balloon buffoon infatuate on the dreams I daily tweet snore
Categories:
ruble, allusion, corruption, political, power,
Form:
Alliteration
"There is no safety this side of Death",
admonished Father Jubal.
There's a chance we've only one more breath;
I'd bet my bottom Ruble!
My iron tongue- my lying lung!
One last dirge to be sung...
But from the depths of Hell, from Heaven fell-
I have climbed up wrung for wrung!
Categories:
ruble, death, father, heaven, money,
Form:
Rhyme
A Penny for your thoughts,
or a Quarter for your rhyme?
A Dollar for your compassion,
for a Dime to go back in time.
A Nickel for your honesty,
or a Ruble to speak your mind.
A Jackson for your patience,
and a Euro to feed the blind.
A Pound for your trouble –
a Dinar for your reprieve,
a Peso to cover the damages,
a Franc if you’d only believe.
In God We Trust authority,
yet not His spoken word –
It takes money, privilege and power,
for the voice of the Lord to be heard.
Our lives are merely a vapor –
don’t wait to be your best,
you may end up like the Pharisees,
in hell with all the rest.
Categories:
ruble, christian, devotion, faith, inspirational,
Form:
Rhyme
My mind is constantly spinning in a
24 hour torture chamber, featuring
unsettling displays of erratic
behavior. Death at this point would
be a reward, please do me this one
favor.
Alone again to no surprise,
restricted to a code of silence.
Harboring a lifetime of regrets and
grudges, now confined within the
dark red walls of violence.
Masking the pain, hiding the truth
with a painted on face. I've buried
the secrets so deep in the ground,
only time can erase.
Pushed into uncontrollable
situations, my soul consumed with
rage. Tangled in a web spun just
for me and sentenced to a life
locked inside a cage.
I enjoy playing the villain, the only
roll that comes naturally. Pressing
every button I can, sit back to enjoy
the show, why won't anyone set me
free.
Rock bottom has finally come, I am
damaged beyond repair. Trapped
in my own personal dungeon, to try
an escape I won't even dare.
A constant stampede of jumbled
thoughts are pounding in my head.
Tripping over the hurdles searching
for the right words, to all that
needs to be said.
I can't finish a thought before a
new one.begins, they are literally
colliding on the track. I have lost so
much of myself inches.ruble and
debris, non of which I'll ever get
back.
My.theory on life to most don't
make sense, is.to emotionally cut cut
off all ties. Its to hard to function
in a world full of weakness, that
was built upon a foundation of lies.
Im barracaded behind a wall of
steel, my flaws are protected and
secure. I've locked myself away
from traffic and the noise, Im a
lifer, no recovery, no cure.
Ambivalence, Am I sane? Am I
crazy? Will I stay or will I go? The
one answer I would like to know.
Categories:
ruble, confusion
Form:
Dot ... dash ... dot
China Syndrome just got Russian reactor hot
Dash ... dot ... dash
Three Mile Island raging nuclear flood flash
Espionage
Sabotage
Foreign fingers are on the power plant switch
And the Chaos Candidate robots,
holding the extortion payment stash,
don’t seem to give the slightest patriotic twitch
Critical infrastructure compromised
National security insulation fried
3D jukebox meltdown,
the day American Revolution music died
Dash ... dot ... dash
Chernobyl smoke signals on a secret cabal
Clandestine meeting at Trump Tower
leased office space
Bringing a briefcase
of dirty money laundered cash
Barbarians are ruble rappelling
over the Oval firewall gate
Crashing the Independence Day bash
Dash ... dot ... dash
Critical infrastructure compromised
National security insulation fried
3D jukebox meltdown,
the day that Democracy music died
Dot ... dash ... dot
Fukushima cooling rods treasonous smouldering
Surreptitious meeting at the Seychelles
leased island space
Back channel offer made,
Soviet mob getting dead president paid a lot
Scythians are ruble rappelling
over the firewall Watergate
Devious intrigue, Lady Liberty seditious plot
Dot ... dash ... dot
Critical infrastructure compromised
National security insulation fried
3D jukebox meltdown,
the day that Democracy music died
Dot ... dot
Dash ... dash
Dot ... dot
Three dimensional existential crisis shout-out
Warning: the atomic reactors are running hot!
Freedom frivolity ain’t dancing no more,
Flag songs aren’t playing ... decibel is on zero
3D jukebox juice no longer got live flow
Constitutional meltdown —
don’t hear any more elected official lies
All counterfeit dollars were cast to the ground,
the czar-ful day Democracy music died
Categories:
ruble, bereavement, betrayal, corruption, music,
Form:
Ode
The sow beauty queen’s
favorite color is money green
The cloven jaw cutie’s
favorite sound is “cha-ching”
Miss Piggy Lips loves how the cash registers
throughout the land constantly rings
That jade oinkment noise
is a pigmentary salve to her greedy soul
She’s got a glut appetite for mo’ and mo’
Her imperial motto is:
“Mo’ money means mo’ toga rest,
and much less queen bee stress”
This regal swine loves to sit
in her towering pleasure palace pigpen,
and peso whine
and ruble dine
Miss Piggy Lips,
with the Pillsbury hips,
enjoys wallowing in the miry green dough
Mudslinging filthy lucre nods covetously so
Miss Piggy Lips,
with the greasy palm grip,
silver tongue yields coin swallowing squeals
Jade oinkment noise forfeits her unpaid bills
This oral apothecary fatty substance
is pocketbook soothing to the queen Midas soul
Gold pursed lip smacking
is how this triple jowl lady low down dirty roll
Those hog heaven eyes
got them snout gobbled green eggs
gulp hasty safely cracking
Her pigmentary belly rub etiquette
is sop share burp lacking
As those rotund royalties
never piggy bank lessen one lil’ bit
Jade oinkment noise
is very spit pernicious green
Pigmentary salve for the thin-skinned cries
of the profiteering unclean
Dyed paper lust has an emerald sheen
Phat bags under dollar sign eyes
be the makeup blush
for the Oval weight sow beauty queen
Miss Piggy Lips,
with the mint green painted toenails,
she loves the excess gossip that dirty tales sell
Flop sweat sleeping
in her palace penthouse pigsty,
she snore ignore the kingdom’s po’ travails
Wrapping herself in a muddy blanket of lies,
surrounding her obese body
with a methane swarm of toady tongue flies
Miss Piggy Lips,
the dung awful smell
coming from that
jade oinkment perfume trail
is just too much nasal pain to inhale
It’s so sickening to brain fart expel
Fat chance the stench makes anyone well
Categories:
ruble, funny, humorous, parody, satire,
Form:
Ode
A tale of two twins ...
Kit: That sure was a mean swing, Dottie. You knocked it out of the park. You’re the Sultana of Swat. I love the way you ‘round the bases doing your cute duckie trot. I love how you stand on home plate, kissing off the booing fans with your sour whispering asinine talk. You sho’ can swat high nonsense spitballs a lot.
Dot: Aw shucks, Kit, you Putin a smile on my face. But it ain’t me really. I just do what you coached me to do. Follow your lead like a good sibling pup pet is suppose to. I can’t help but wag the pig tale. Everybody knows that bare bosom greed sells. Now sis, you know I never vote swing and miss. I just love lip-crushing abetted ayes. Sending those lying spitball kisses flying high. But half-truthfully, girl I love the wet way you dry hurl. Such vomit velocity ... sending that propaganda puke spinning thru the air with such speed. You’re so lassie Vladdie bad amazing.
Kit: Yeah, twin ... we in a beleagued of our own. We don’t never do no wrong, at least none that we personally have to disown. And the Lady Bolshevik tag-team pocket profits are gonna stay kompromat strong. As long as the I-scream flag vendors keep selling the popular patriotic yellow snow cones. I love hearing the synthesized, trumpy anthem blaring sound, when the seventh-inning ruble donation rally hats are being passed around. It jacks me up, to the Nth lobby Molotov degree. My oligarch strong arm do a Siberian burn meddle poll vault sales pitch; delivered decibel stealth low, and so slow curve icily.
Dot: Serve ‘em up good, twin. Twist the grin like Papa Lenin said: “Never let a capitalist sucker get a free lick. Always snatch the purse from a paper chasing hick. Always foxy scoop the golden laid eggs from a sleeping, loose-liberty chick.” All bad things come in good corrupt Communist time. This czar fate injustice demands. I love the smell of democracy peanuts roasting in the ballot stands. I love hot, dog day debate fry cries doing the mustard squirt dance. So beleaguered and bland. I love the pretzel, fixed victory feel of cash register chance. I love being the pink champagne torch lady wearing no morality pants. Slyly, safely sliding home, skirt up ... silver tongue tush fanning kicked diamond sand. Giving a darkside-of-the-moon kiss to the loser Americans.
Categories:
ruble, baseball, political, satire, word
Form:
Prose Poetry
Red power mode
White digital
Blue logo
My, oh my ...
sweet apple pie!
Patriotic American cheese is turning sour Kraut commie
Democracy is Wisconsin curdling ... penicillin shot
needed between the ailing ballot box,
sho’ ain’t Louisiana Purchase forthcoming
Lady Liberty is bowing face down, Kansas Toto-style,
to Kremlin oligarchy ...
didn’t take much to bend with Washington wavy subservience
It’s an Idaho russet Ruskie crying shame
Couch the Benedict-ion omelette breaking news:
Missy Freedom done Alaska huskie hussy sold herself
to be a Soviet satellite skirt muzzled tramp mule
Red power mode
has taken cyber control of all voter confidence
White digital bar-code
activate the Manchurian self-destruct sequence
Blue logo brand ruble sold,
keeps the general populace straddling the fence
As they reality TV see their loose Lady Liberty
make a Texas loan star barracuda bow face
Proud North Dakota woman bending her knee,
acknowledging her Bolshevik bastard place
It’s a Kentucky bourbon crying shame
Democracy kissing the Politburo Czar ring
Bluegrass filly ruling class
selling the masses out for the Balaam green
Capitol Hill Star Spangled silent gag,
money mutes on a Pavel dog Con-stitutional prostitute
Wavy anthem cloth used as a snot rag,
Molotov noses following the Red Pied Pier booger flute
My, oh my ...
Marx Twain subversive tweet sweet apple pie!
Collaborator citizens being called patriotic comrades
Eating the Stalinist straw buries,
spit sprinkled with
Chernobyl pyramid scheme
propaganda whipped cream
Traitor taste the Taps Blue Fibbing beer,
free-market funeral dirge price gouge overflowing,
in the white Lenin toe-tag black body bag aisle
While the Ukraine lobbyist piggies
are covetously Crimea coffer crying
Oh, Nevada bordello bosom alligator weep ...
let the Alabama tick tears leech flow
down those Florida lemon-squeezed cheeks
It’s a New Mexico caliente green chile crying shame —
Them neo-Anazazi, gun-clicking squatters
getting a Wounded Knee ice gulag reservation claim
Lady Liberty doing an Independence bow face,
it’s a thirteen stripe, Siberian mongrel disgrace
Categories:
ruble, allusion, imagery, truth, wisdom,
Form:
Rhyme
American Daughters of the Civil War Revolution
are so madly in love with their Bluish-Gray metal sons
Incestuous desires borne of slave tax oppression
Give to Caesar whatever tribute he crown heavy lay on you,
feed three-fifth portions to the hungry publican lions
Let the Den Mother Lying famine devour your children too
Cannibalize every ink spot known self-evident truth,
marginalize any constitutional chains inhibiting your ravenous lust
Another seething pot of baby bones is the Baal proof
Give to Pharaoh whatever gut pyramid schemes he Isis dream,
feed you quarterly lies from the war widow collection plate
The Wall Street church in tea need of another gun barrel beam
Amerikan Sons of the Ruble Con Bolshevik Revolution,
so gluttonly love their daughters’ leather fetish for the holster
Homicidal desires borne of suicidal plantation depression
Categories:
ruble, political, symbolism, truth, wisdom,
Form:
tristich
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:
ruble, humorous, perspective, satire, word
Form:
Alliteration
Rile up the rifling rowdies
at the Red River rawhide rally
A new Mustang Sally came rip-roaring muscling in
from the lower Staten Island end of Stalingrad
Treachery forged American made profit wad
Wearing a commie armband,
purporting to be party repping
concerned Russian citizens
Whose sickle and hammer banner
is the sacred “Right to Bear Arms”
This appears to be quite duplicitous foul,
but no Second Amendment harm
Nary a single peep tweet harangue itch heard,
no tick-ticking trump false alarm
Not one cricket sound of a silent chirped word
Rhetorical rebuttals are on a verbal snooze,
POTUS is on a Love Boat pirate smooze
Using Alexandrian charm
and Torshin money laundered ant mandibles,
oligarches buy a Republican bite-size piece
of the NRA capitalist farm
Those loopy lobby duped sons of guns
will sell the hangman’s rigor mortis rope
that they’ll soon be swinging from
Such a sad, illegal traffic plight —
Serve them ultra-nationals right
to be privately tricked in plain sight
Let a little Soviet savvy spit salve
gleam the brandishing barrels bright
Invitation extended to the “good old boys” club
Purchase credit secret blended ...
trigger shout
some Badlands ruble noise with a lead nose snub
Rowdy Ruskies in the midst
of an all-American association rifle rally
Such a strange, strange sight:
Those duped sons of the gun
butt kissing their Politburo Putin pal-lies
Categories:
ruble, allegory, business, political, truth,
Form:
Alliteration