Best Satire Poems
socialism communism fascism despotism
buddhism catholicism hinduism zoroastrianism
territorialism colonialism imperialism expansionism
positivism relativism behaviorism existentialism
adventurism escapism negativism nihilism
puritanism fanaticism extremism terrorism
sexism chauvinism ultra-nationalism jingoism
hedonism epicureanism ~ stoicism asceticism
patriotism heroism altruism idealism
activism idealism individualism exceptionalism
atheism deism monotheism paganism
optimism pessimism cynicism romanticism
atheism secularism humanism utopianism
hypnotism mysticism exorcism surrealism
~ and what if there were a schism in each and every 'ism!'
Has the convenience of technology
inoculated us from reality?
Do androids dream of electric sheep?
I pray the code my soul to keep?
Does your universe live within 4G
Or megapixel infinity?
Which memory lies within
The one that was
Or the one that's been
Or how much gig how much ram?
Which reality is true?
Cyber me
Or cyber you?
Cyber bully
Cyber crime
Cyber hate
Cyber time?
Cyber boxer
Or cyber brief?
Who is the real identity thief?
Cyber pleasure
Cyber pain
Hours spent glaring into the screen
Choosing an alternate username.
Status updates and trending tweets
Fill your mind and rob your sleep.
Clever hashtags and Instagram
Will shape your image and gain more friends.
Is the you you've shaped in cyberspace
The same you I'd see face to face?
We hide behind our computer screens
And criticize with brutal ease.
Virtual reality
Is buying souls of men you see
And robbing the ability to dream real dreams.
I want to conquer something real
That I can grab that I can feel.
I want to touch life and hold on tight
I want to unblock true friends
And "like" real sights.
I want conversation face to face
In real world time
In a real world place.
My butt crack
Is quite a split
It supports the rest of me
when I sit
you thought I was gonna say something else didn't you ?
My butt crack
Is a marvel to behold
It was cute when I was young
but now offensive since I'm old
My butt crack
Is pretty darn straight
can you imagine if it was crooked
pretty weird sight I would rate
My butt crack
Is funny to me
when I bend over in my jeans
It peeks out
for you to see
My butt crack
wanted me to write this today
for no other reason
then just to say......................
I gotta split
LOL
Eric (and sometimes not)
I stare at my mirror
So shocked by what I see
There is a strange woman
Staring right back at me
I must’ve been abducted
This must be a crazy trick
For the reflection that I see
Is making me quite sick
Are those horrid wrinkles?
Is that a double chin?
The neck that was my joy
Is pillar like- not thin!
My eyes have no sparkle
They look listless and glazed
It gets so hard to focus
When all I feel is dazed
Maybe it’s just a dream
From which I will awake
For how could that be me?
I’m sure it’s just a fake
I pinch myself real hard
The mirror woman screams
Oh no, it must be true
Now both of us cry streams
Mirror, you’re a traitor!!!
Mirror, this is a crime!!!
I order you to hide!!!
The tell-tale signs of time!!!
Do me a small favor
Tell me a little lie
Reflect a younger me…
Oh please, give it a try!
Eileen Manassian Ghali
It's a nightmare down on Elm Street. Satan's waiting here at home.
Where's that little Freddy Krueger with his nails of sharpened chrome?
And that dearest Michael Myers, as he's always sure to call?
Halloween won't be so keen without some slashers in the hall.
They're all meeting up with Jason and the other demon spawn
to pay Old Scratch a visit, so I'll leave the porch light on.
I'm your sugar devil daddy and I'll tempt you if I can,
so now open up those goody bags, cause I'm your candy man.
Welcome, all you little zombies. Here, I've got some flesh for you!
It's in a candy wrapper and so much easier to chew.
Just hold out your plastic treat bag, and hold off eating me.
The junk I'm gonna give you tastes much better than my knee.
It's so loaded up with sugar, you'll be bouncing off the walls.
So go ahead and gorge yourselves and fill the bathroom stalls.
Kneel before the porcelain god or use the toilet sink.
You can always use the practice now, for later when you drink.
You can't take a piece of healthy fruit or any home-made treat.
The media have made damn sure it's only junk food that you'll eat.
So celebrate my holiday and consume till it's obscene.
Welcome into my domain... and Happy Halloween!
October 15, 2014
There’s endless miles of golden sandy beaches
Sparkling aqua waters as far as the eye can see
Gods and Goddesses frolic au naturel down under
Here’s where Heaven shines her light down on me
If you foolishly swim between the danger red line zones
See a shark coming ‘HELP ME’! - You wildly scream
Well worth the SAVE in those bronzed muscly arms
Spunky Aussie life guards straight out of your dream
Women glow and men become fit- lean and taut
Any wonder that all thoughts get thrown asunder
Rippling muscles flex- bronzed bodies like gods
I come from the ‘green and gold land down under’
Spoiled for choice - Raw possibilities endless
No need to lust silently pining after one
Pick yourself up look around broken sparrow
This must surely be Gods place in the sun
Nothing comes close to the beer down under
Accompanied by a vegemite sandwich or two
Looking for something more gourmet and exotic?
There’s crocodile and kangaroo to name but a few
A land where every man resides like a King
And women are fawned over - treated like Queens
We don’t let sneezes and hay fever spoil things
If you have the sniffles - Hey! there’s Claratyne
This land where millionaires are made in a day
If you push the limits to achieve lofty goals
So don’t keep waiting to come on down under
Where our worth is what defines our roles
* ‘Living in a land Down Under
Where women glow and men plunder
Can’t you hear, can’t you hear the thunder,
You better run you better take cover’
Oops!! that verse sounds like it may be lines from the song 'Land Down Under' by 'Men at Work'. Might be seen as plagiarism. Sorry!! Couldn’t help myself!!
Instrumental of ‘Men at Work’ - by Joh Ph
Published on Jul 31, 2016 You Tube
* Quoted reference and citation of original lyrics of above verse from 'Land Down Under' belongs to 'Men At Work' first released October 1981 -
Songwriters: Colin James Hay / Ronald Graham Strykert.
I, The Clone
So that I would not live alone,
My parents thought I should be a clone.
They cloned at first two then four,
Then they cloned just four more.
Being the first parents in the nation
Practising exponential regeneration
They tried again to double the brood
Using methods not fully understood.
Breeding at this prodigious rate
I soon numbered two thousand and forty eight.
And, allowing for those not now alive,
Next became four thousand and sixty five.
So I continued to expand,
Filling up towns throughout the land,
And, some years after the age of consent
Held all the seats in Parliament.
And so it’s easy now to see
How I became my own M.P.
When I numbered six million and forty two,
I was army, navy and air force too.
At ten billion three hundred and twenty eight,
I became head of every state,
And, depending on my point of view
Deposed myself with war and coup.
So by accident or by intent
Became first global President.
Now four trillion seven hundred and ninety three
The only person in the world is me.
28th Feb. 2016
Originally drafted in the days of Dolly The Sheep.
Captive damsel of creative-writing programs,
Personalized, eulogized job of small groups,
The frenetic activities handy to very few,
Poetry now belongs to a subculture hew.
We have accredited professional poets,
Creative writing teachers at all levels,
Composing computer- created poetry,
Creating illusion of the Golden Age artistry.
These professional poets have secured
Their own niches in the academic world,
They cry over the spilt milk like jackals
Snarling over a dried-up well with no aims.
Quantitative work is guaranteed success,
Accuracy, meaning, technique matters less.
=================================
Fourth place winner
Contest: Poetry for poetry's sake of Paula Swanson
Quo Vadis is a Latin phrase meaning "Where going"
'Twas the night before Christmas' ...
And with finances dead,
No black number lasted -
Turned Rudolph-nose red.
My wallet, 'twas empty,
My plastic, quite maxed,
My bank account, zero,
My credit - gone, axed!
My back, like my money,
Was spent and inflamed ...
The gift-wrapping mess
Put a landfill to shame.
The stockings were jammed
With a slew of odd junk,
Tho' I don't recall WHAT,
(Being just short of drunk).
I'd hung them with care
'Bove the fireplace, but ...
They all smelled like smoke,
With the flue frozen shut.
My goodwill was doomed
For the shape it was in,
And my patience had left
With the last of the gin.
But bless all the guests,
They slept like the dead,
(Our sugarplums spiked
With pure Panama Red).
Perhaps I could sleep now,
Sans nightmares and fear,
Left dreaming the madness ...
Of Christmas ... NEXT year.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "The Night Before 2" Poetry Contest, Joseph May, Judge & Sponsor.
~ Poem of the Day ~ featured at Poetry Soup on December 7, 2019 - thank you, Admins!
Smooth paper lay up on the desk.
My thoughts were odd, but not grotesque.
Will robots take what I did write,
extracting words by dark of night?
The robot came with stealth today.
It took my thoughts and words away.
The words were mine and reas’ning clear.
I asked myself, “What’s hap’ning here?”
The robot comes with guile and theft.
When words are stripped, what then is left?
It takes what others’ work has grown.
Has often reaped, but never sown.
Don’t tell me now there is no chance.
My gaze is fixed, no way askance.
My apprehension grows each time
I see a robot pose a rhyme.
'Twas the twilight of the year
a twinkling tiara.
December 31st, digits dancing dunes
in the Sahara.
One, two, three, one, two, three,
it's a prance.
A numerical Irish step dance
given a whimsical chance.
In the calendar's corners,
a magical mystery unfurls.
As the date spins and swirls
like a jester's jingling twirls.
One, two, three, one, two, three,
in a line.
A date so divine,
it deserves its own shrine
so fine!
But wait, what's this? A satirical twist!
The date's just a number
it doesn't exist!
One, two, three, one, two, three,
what's the fuss?
Wait… all dates are human-
created
YES, by us!
The numbers are shocked
feeling quite superfluous.
In the grand scheme of things
oh so ridiculous!
So here's to the New Year
let's raise a toast.
To the date that we've come
to boast the most.
With champagne that sparkles
and tastes like the sun.
2023 is yet undone
run from the old
to the new one,
run, run, run!
In the canon of the digits
a lesson we see.
Time is a construct
as fluid as the sea.
So let's celebrate the moments
both big and small.
For, in the end
they're the most
precious of all.
Law, English, business, and so on—
alas, are tiresome!
All the professors here go on
with a prime axiom.
A moldy, college campus where
knowledge and books abound,
freshmen and co-eds are clueless
and confused all around.
Mid-terms and finals I so dread
as the semester wends;
the pressure's on me to study
as my freshmen year ends.
School's oppressive this semester,
I'll see my old provost
and leave 'ere I rot and fester
to try a better post.
William & Mary's M.B.A.'s
are just worthless BS
(degrees from the home of “The Tribe,”
dross that just obsolesce).
I'll trill as “The Lithium-Laced Lyrist”—
as rhymes are my forté,
not tomes or stuffy scholastics:
for poesy's my métier!
I shook my head
Knew the day’d be messy
Some poor sap
Was marrying my Aunt Bessie
She’d slept with half of Brooklyn
Flaunting her exploits all through town
The mayor, the banker, the deli clerk
Even the birthday party clown
A wedding gown, so fitted
Her bellybutton showed
Boobs shoved up high enough
To violate building code
Minutes before the shindig
She pulled me on the roof
Snatched a flask from her garter belt
Downing one hundred ninety proof
She wanted to call it off
No way she could comply
To promise for all her life
To only screw one guy
I told her she could do it
Like many other people do
She finally calmed down
And made her wedding day debut
She stumbled down the aisle
Tripping on her gown
Her daddy kept her steady
‘til the pastor stared her down
She blushed but pulled together
Long enough to give her vows
After the ceremonial kiss
Everyone went to carouse
Letting loose at the reception
She danced with all the boys
Twirling, flashing, grinning
Making all kinds of noise
I’d like to say things ended well
That monogamy she would master
But before the night was over
She got naked with the pastor
For Andrea's "Show Me the Funny" Contest
The fear
In here ..
The chair
"Don't care "..
Sore gum
Lip numb..
" MUST DRILL
THEN FILL " ..
" Less speed
I'll bleed " ..
Preserve
Your nerve ..
"I've bled"
Jaw dead ..
" RINSE PLEASE"
Weak knees ..
The bill
Plus pill ..
Can't eat
No teeth ..
Unchewed
Soft food ..
Can't talk
Slow walk
Perchance
Soiled pants ?..
Mistake
Toothache !!.....
footle-note ..
The author would like to confirm that no deaths occured , during the creation of this piece. All
suffering was kept to a minimum,as the surgery was sound-proofed .Pain and suffering ,
caused to waiting patients , was due to being forced to read 3yr old mags. Seemingly the
news was less dire back then.All enamel&blood stained swabs were dumped in the
appropriate utensils,as per Geneva Convention(section ix, site xxxiv).The cleansing of soiled
underwear took place ,under supervision, with enviroment friendly detrgents & all offending
materials disposed of , in accordance with the KyotoAgreement(section mlx11).
Must dash !! , as I have to visit that other sadist, the vet ,with our cat.He is due for the snips!
( the cat , not the vet ).. Here Tom..Pshhhwshhh ..
They crawl out of the woodwork
Shedding lots of crocodile tears
Grieving for an ancient relative
They’ve not visited for many years
‘Auntie Annie’ is barely warm
But now you see the relations swarm
Waiting for the will to be read
They rub their hands with glee
Hoping they will be left
Lots of lovely money
‘Grieving relatives’ is rubbish!! Some are taking the mick ….
These mercenary vultures simply make me sick!
28th January 2017