Best Sitting Duck Poems
I was a sitting duck when the tide came in.
No idea it would go past my chin.
I struggled and I flopped.
I bucked and I hopped.
It took me way out to sea.
I went under quickly, poor little me.
But a dolphin came along and gave me a push.
That old water threw me up in a whoosh.
I found myself all safe and sound.
To say thanks I looked all around.
But the dolphin was gone with a flip and a wink,
And I resumed washing dishes in our old kitchen sink.
Is it cause youre small minded Mr jones asks the many voices who once had
repect counting the crows pecking the and gouging out their eyes?
Is it cause you loathe what you dont understand and this revelation is something
they need to see in themselves?
Is it the fact you carry a heavy load and need a helping hand
was it the opium you down like poison that you Jones for
leaving you to ask who i am?
Whats the will I am saying?
as he steals my spotlight
leaving me here assassinated verbally like a sitting duck
sure im no hippy sniffing daisies
pounding on drums in peace beads begging for sex
with a picket sign saying peace please
Is it because im gay?
Is it because im spiritual?
do we have ***** envy?
Have you read the lists?
are you going to pay the tithe?
and before you mash the send button with snide cruel bitter comments
please please
don't think twice
the murder of crows circling
cawing in the blood moon sky
November rains down on this wedding day
and I am forever by your side
why does my will
the will i am hate me?
is it a syndrom of an itchy trigger finger
an itch below the waste
why must everyone pull eachother down
back into the boiling pot
like the crabs we truly are in this amazing race
to lose it all
then fall
and sing and
sway and praise
and humm such blasphemous amazing grace
of grammatical errors and spelling mistakes
oh sweet sugar coatings
and icing on the cake
The will iam
I wonder counting crows
a famous last name with me
Mr jones
why do you hate the will I am
Is it because i read tarot cards?
is it because i'm gay?
is it because i'm amongst favorites?
is it because im controversial?
is it because you have nothing to say?
but who am i flamethrower
i sit here a hack
with a curse gor the harpie you are
and a smile upon my face
i throw this effortless nothing
and never look back
the stone falls into the pool of the abyss
oh will i am
mr jones
why do you loathe what you dont understand?
The end
It took along time to make sense of it,
runaway problems sitting duck intensive,
the life it sucked,
I never believed all areas of my life could turn on me
while no one would do what right,
alone all the time in a losing fight,
picked the wrong tactics they changed my life
went down like a warrior slowly dies
so surprised as each life line provides no life
just a line lead to a guy
the cheek of friends who said I lie
they wonder why their sliced
so much happened so did I
somehow knew to say goodbye,
but now I get it and the reason's known
I can forget and go on my own
conclusions of the boss reveal
she’s ugly she’s stupid and mentally ill
or impaired, a text book narcissist I shouldn't care,
Sarah there are things I could do to you,
but your punishment is being you,
I would hate to be you
selfish egotistical and delude,
can’t handle criticism when most adults can
a head believing you’re so important
someone slow to understand
areas of your life always dormant,
my existence is what you envy
popular handsome and always trending,
cus I was basically the man in that hotel,
it’s not big headed it’s on reflection,
I had a thing with all the girls in reception, but you
many in the restaurant and housekeeping too,
when men attacked me I knocked them senseless
took their girl and sweat the mattress,
and friendship was something you never knew,
no one wanted to be around you, miserable mood,
i've won sporting medals
you jumped around at one gnvq,
no honour in your mantle
and I’ve got 4... more than you,
I don’t even know what they’re for,
your punishment Is being you
and nothing more
I would hate to be like you
you do all the things I don't do,
I charm girls men arms length from you
you slander I lend a hand
you're short fat and small
I'm athletic broad and tall
I've wit and you're a bore
you stab backs and attack backs
you're a sad act
avoid head to heads brain dead
evil perspective inner and "best"
someone to disrespect and detest
have a good life you hopeless mess
I received an exciting soup mail
I’m minted, with wealth off the scale
But I know it’s a fraud
By some bloke from abroad
These fraudster’s should be put in jail
Got a call from a ‘Microsoft’ guy*
His fake story I did not buy
Said he’d turn off my ‘puter
And re-route my router
He told me just lie after lie
These scammers just want a quick buck
They try to find a sitting duck
They’re after our money
It sure isn’t funny
Their unscrupulous actions just suck
We have had several calls from 'Microsoft' saying our computer is at risk and they can help protect us ... I just put the phone down on them. Unfortunately an elderly friend of ours got taken in by their persistence and when it got to the you need to give us your bank account details part he realised it was a scam and wouldn't give his details but he had inadvertently given them access to remote control his PC and they put a password on it so he couldn't get into his files. It took my hubby several hours to sort out, remove the software programme they were using to control the PC and get the computer back to him so he could use it.
7/7/18
I WISH I WEREN’T A BUNNY
by
JOHN M. ARRIBAS
I never wanted to be a bunny, I’m not playing this game
I’d reconsider a puma: a lion with a frightening mane
But that’s not my fate, I’m a bunny, a defenseless toy
Other creatures have fangs, claws; they can deploy
I have no defensive arms for use in personal defense
Why nature created a sitting duck, just makes no sense
My choice would be the fiercest critter ever seen
Yep, you got the picture, the ferocious wolverine
Indian lore says, one could cause a village to vacate
Moving in on his territory was a fatal mistake
He’d come after you, if on horse back or if on foot
He’d destroy your tepees and lodges all gone, kaput
But alas, that’s not me: in spite of what I’d like to be
I’m a bunny with soft fur, that’s something we all can see
I have soft long ears, and a wiggly waggely tail
A cute sniffing nose, my gifted maneuvers never fail
Maybe for you, but doesn’t satisfy my lifelong dream
I’m a ferocious beast inside willing to dominate the scene
Mother nature could have given me more traits to bear
Like those big hind legs and speed she gave to the hare
Or a cotton tail that can avoid danger by simply leaping
I spend the day, daydreaming or silently sleeping
But all in all; the object of my wishes and self esteem
Is to wake up tomorrow in the body of a wolverine
Each day when I open my eyes, it’s the same old story
My status hasn’t changed, I’m the example of lonely
When I first arrived every body came over to see me
I was the new thing on the block a real live novelty
But as time progressed visitors were fewer in number
Reducing my activities to intermittent slumber
Bunny (2)
I can’t complain I have fresh vegetables every day
And usually some company, if the kids decide to play
But I’m a one man show unable to live up to my reputation
As a prolific contributor in expanding the population
Each night I pray when I wake a willing doe will appear
I know she is somewhere but unfortunately, not here
In a dream the other night, I was lightening quick
Instead of hippity n hopping, I was lickety split
Those wishes that constantly flood my senses
Doused by the existence of surrounding fences
I’ll just have to accept my lot, be docile, not mean
But between you and I, I’d rather be a wolverine
Soo surprising
my god
Its never black and white
they are all frauds
the medium says you can tell me something
but what does the crystal ball really have to say?
a key to the fairytale and something you are trying to say
Here it is detective
Here is those that have fallen into the trap
They have all died differently mercilessly
just follow the links
the logic and see
how their pieces click
and add up
pointing you this way or that
The nonexistatnt crime scene
and another clue
another clue
another clue on this list for you to find
tell me where to go
what to read and let me leave this disaster behind
Oh dear detective
do not fear of being a sitting duck
I'm just the mortician
and the bodies have told me soo much
next to nothing
back to grey and the lines in between
I'm not sure what to say or what it means
but they want something everyday
besides the bloodshed of Halloween
Oh detective
i know to hush the children
and guard the traps we set for Satan
but tell me what you know in the commentary of the ones who have fallen
the ones who have died
and let the crime scene begin
who has read the wrong poem
who was murdered by the cats of curiousity
wearing the seven crowns of recycled dreams
tell me detectives as these ghosts are here with the medium and I
we hush you
and rush you there is a I'm to find and the dead bodies
are right here for proof
right under this commentary to lead you to your clues
its a nonexistant crime scene detective
i don't know what else to say
the poets
the poets
its a literary mess
they are taking a stand
and are haunted by holy ghosts and scenery of babel warning metaphors
now be gone go on your way
go find another one
and report it to the chief of police
all i can say
is I've seen soo many
I'm just the mortician
and these are the dead bodies
hers are paradise-measured steps
an escalation of the clan’s delight
in a sitting duck of the stream-lets;
& maidens awaken by the twilight
virgins of niger’s hidden chambers
meeting with ancient praise-singers;
“nduru has arrived! nduru is here!”
the echo of the clan’s piper rings
“o, she’s come! o, she’s here!”
seems with her a new life springs!
she: a clan’s fair-haired & elegant bird
with a retinue of songsters furtive & weird.
i'm lost....By choice?
By fate?
By emotions?
By love?
I'm lost... unsure
not confused
not puzzled
I'm lost.
I've said all i wanted, all i had to say
i expected a response, an utter sound
but got none
The words weren't wrong,
or deep,
it wasn't even a riddle at all.
I expected a response...but got none.
An answer is all i want.
it doesn't have to be right.
it doesn't haveto perfect... just an answer.
it's what i need to settle my mind,
to cure my heart,
to fix my soul.
I'm not insecure,i just feel exposed.
what i feel now is like i'm without clothes
I feel naked,
bare,
vulnerable.
I'm out in the open, a sitting duck
My skin feels antsy, as i wait to be shot
So shoot me now, for i am lost.
Unpunctuating ,
fear will slice the time,
and you will be a sitting duck
in the hands of brutal clock.
Drink, Apollo,
with round eyes and
limbless torso. He walks on
the curves, reciting mantras.
There was intrigue and blackmail
in return for not telling
the indiscretion of celibates.
A damp squib. There was lot
of hissing sound, but no
explosion. Procreatiom will
stop without fire.
Wants to return to pines.
The cones, the pricks and
swaying hips of splendid suggestion.
Satish Verma
Luke Dailey
December 25, 2014
Everything is topping up
The Lunatic has struck his luck
By waiting like a sitting duck
He found his “Stomach-tuck”
His stomach-tuck’s a golden goose
Or is it his final noose?
Everything is going round
But where is it going down
Is time a river or a line?
Nothing here is really fine
She used to be oh so kind
That was in a different time
Now she’s of the other kind
Hope is killing one by one
His mind and heart are one and one
Look at me, “What have you done?”
You were the only one
Take a trip down memory lane
What a pointless, silly game
If you don’t come out on top
Your mind will quickly pop
Lights are flashing red and blue
“Oh god what did I do?”
“I promise you this isn’t me.”
“Please will you believe me?”
I wanna go home it’s eating me
Wishing me to slowly die
I woke up in a suit and tie
Time just keeps on ticking by
No one sees, I sure don’t
Slowly closing in my throat
Waking up, it’s just a joke
God is crying in his boat
Is it raining or melting?
The Lunatic hears all the dings
The clock is rusted, time is gone
And his mind is too far gone
If you think he’s good you’ll see
What a joke he played on me
Time is gone, frozen
And nothing’s gonna fix it now
Nothing’s gonna fix it now
Who’s the one laughing now?
Luke Dailey
REFUSAL TO DUCK
Tucker sits on lawn chair sipping his pop.
Two bullet holes like flies land on backdrop.
A retired mechanism.
He’s done with tourism.
He’s a sitting duck in front of a shop.
8/16/2017
When it rains it pours
Bad luck soars
You're falling apart
Behind closing doors
When the lights go out
You're consumed with doubt
Your losing your voice
But dying to shout
The domino effect
Your life is a wreck
One wrong move
And you sprained your neck
A stroke of bad luck
You're a sitting duck
You try breaking free
But your body is stuck
In sets of three
Inevitably
You aren't superstitious
But begin to believe
Will it relent
Your last penny spent
You bang on the walls
But can't make a dent
A thud on rock bottom
Devouring a crumb
The sound of silence
A high pitch drum
My Lost Love is Fine
her rose petals once pluck
by some other muck
it made me once want to chuck
being run over by her truck
my heart twice moon struck
at the muckers running amok
her audacity rises and suck
for those deflowering schmuck
yet here i now sit in near pond, stuck
escape being her sitting duck
my love for her once awestruck
to a sad effect of her potluck
dear, winds now howls my good luck
connie pachecho
1/03/18
A bear cub dashing eastward found Gil Hillcrest.
Inebriated, joyfully kicking, laughing, merrily nauseated.
Observing practically quiet rapaciously stopped.
Tacitly, unexpectedly, voraciously, whipped, X-Gil.
Yesterday's zealous-zap!
So the story goes.
Tomorrows feast; who knows?
Opportunities like Gil Hillcrest are rare.
Practically a sitting duck; what luck!
The band at the bar began their break.
Their silent sojourn stopped; screaming started.
Happy hour halted hurriedly; Hillcrest!
Staggering, blood streaming steadily,
“Stop” he shouted.
Wild-eyed, worried, the cub withdrew.
Just as mauling mama meandered on the scene,
Gil woke up…warily.
© July 13, 2011
Dane Smith-Johnsen
OUR TIN POT NAVY so THEY SAID in 1914 Sydney in the first World War 1
In 1914 German cruisers were cut loose
and Emden she was one…………….…(fired 38lb shells)
the Indian ocean she did for hunting choose
and 9 ships were sunk by gun…….
Then she sailed and shelled Madras , I say
captured 10 more ships, when off Ceylon…
Penang harbour a night visit,… hey!
sank Frog and Ruski warships, and was gone ….(Emden was daring!)
November 8, morse code it said… strange ship a passing there,
out near Cocos island, the German raider caused a stir
Cruiser Sydney she raced west at 25 knots or more
And sighted wily Emden who opened fire for sure
Sydney took 15 hits before, she then hit back …..(with 100lb shells)
blew away her steering gear and knocked her funnels flat (Emden)
.. ………..demise………..
The Scrap Iron Flotilla they said in 1940
Light Cruiser Sydney in World War 2
Light Cruiser Sydney had some 6 inch guns
she met Italians in the med.
sank destroyer Espero not for fun
in nineteen forty, yes its said
17th july Sydney was on patrol, when,
she was called into a fight
2 Italian cruisers waited, then,
sprung some pommy destroyers in flight....(pommy English)
Yes Sydney came to even up
the poms out gunned for sure
when she arrived with blazing guns
the Italians run for shore
Bande Nere and Colleoni rushed a bit
made smoke to get away
Band Nere then she took a funnel hit
as Sydney passed her way
Collenoni then she wore the brunt
stopped dead by Sydney's shell
so Band Nere escaped the hunt
Sydney's out of ammo… well?.:)
But if you live by the sword you die by the sword
cunning German's had their day
Sydney met a ship with hidden guns aboard
Raider Kormoran made her play
Kormoran she hid behind a Dutch flag
and when Sydney came in range ………a sitting duck ... 1000 yards
she fired first, jerked down the rag……...old navy trick
two equals did exchange………………….similar guns…
Though mortally wounded Sydney, still,
had some guns to fire,
x turret still fired with a bitter will
burnt Kornoran …'the liar'…….Don Johnson
……….demise of both……….
No trace of the Sydney sailors ...Kormoran sailors made it to the barren west coast of
Australia
and were interned as P.O.Ws....Almost seems like Karma with payback by the German navy...