Best Smarted Poems
My name is Spenser
No dog is denser
I'm not well smarted
But I'm big hearted
If you was hurted
I'd be alerted
And I'll come racing
To lick your facing.
When I was young, I was so very sweet.
I never tattle-taled or smarted off.
I shared with others when I got a treat,
and at my sisters I would never scoff.
I loved to help my mother, so I did
the many chores she gave me happily.
I was so neat that always I got rid
of junk I knew Mom wouldn't want to see.
I loved to go to church, and Bible school
was something I enjoyed every Sunday.
I saved my money and did not amass
collections, for I gave my things away!
But seriously, I won't lie to you.
Not very much of this is even true!
Written Jan. 25, 2017 for the "But Seriously" Contest of John Lawless
Ill-tempered Elfin Queen, would bully
and demean everyone she'd see
an unruly brat
nasty tricks thought daily that
when on her throne she sat sadly
She had to force her head in a sack
precaution she must engage to hold back
to gaze in a looking glass
so she could surpass
or the magical mirror would crack
Casting curses became her fame
enticing elf’s was her daily game
maidens that were shrouded
and barren were allowed
in her kingdom was her aim
But to her shocking surprise
all of their bellies begin to rise
the Elfin Queen was livid
she had been smarted
was blinded and they criticize
For she hadn’t for saw that right
when the sun goes down and the lights
go out humans are smart
love comes only from the heart
beauty is only skin deep, that brings sight
© 4/29/2015
AEONIA-
AEONI-
AEON-
Vestal purity, all men succumb- the Virgin whose eyes stare silver beams- crystallizing his very soul. He, and all who gaze upon she.
Aeonia writhes behind fallen lids, unable to awake. Betrayal of her psyche-. Silk whispers upon her sweat soaked skin. 1000 nights have come and gone as she still writhes, unable to awaken.
Her **** swallows the evil the world has delighted in - all betrayal, lies and sin.
Dripping from between her great legs are left the dregs of green heat,
jealous heat that slides down and puddles on the floor.
The vacuousness of her **** has left no good...
fear, hatred and rage are ****ed inside of her... pounded into her birthing, ever birthing animosities.
Sludgy sperm of bastards evil- threaten to fertilize her eggs. Gray fetuses passing through her pose the question- "Why?"
She dares not answer, for to open her mouth would invite flies to lay their maggot eggs upon her very tongue...
Still she cannot- dare not open her eyes...not yet.
Screams! tortured hyena throes of Thorazine echo in her mind.
Do Not Open Your Eyes!
Aeonia- and her aeons!
Ever lay bare and never to see, never to move.
Aeonia! Why have the gods punished you? Fair one of the crystalline silver eyes?
Time immemorial, leperous tongue dies piece by piece, inch by inch until nay but a smarted stub exists.
Who hears you anyways? No one to hear your cries whore!
Whore of all women, shall we call you Eve?
Cocks of man and gods and kings all rape your syphallic cave-
one by one.
Whore! You are blamed! Oh Aeonia, for misbegotten deeds by every wife, woman and queen!
Succubi, WITCH! A potion of cat claws and rat maws you brewed, from Adam to the last man standing, you are to be blamed! For his infidelity, his disease, his shame!
Another season has started and he's ready to go.
For the Bobwhite Quail is this hunters foe.
He's one beautiful dog,but he's not for show,
for not many of birds have out smarted old-Joe.
He's been lying in the yard now for months on end
just waiting and waiting for a hunt to begin.
I'll walk up to Joe and say "It's time to hunt Quail"
then I'll open my tailgate and let out a yell!
Old Joe goes from sleeping to straight on his feet,
for this is one bird dog no other can beat.
I'll just smile and rub on his back
for I've seen Joe point to many to sack.
Old Joe has a gift like no other dog.
He once pinned a whole cubby inside of a log.
He looks like a pirate chasing after his loot.
Sometimes he'll just catch them and I won't get to shoot.
People use to ask me wherever we went
where I had found Joe and how much had I spent.
I would just smile and say,"I don't really know"
for no one could have my secret to Joe.
See now days men just scream and they holler
at beaten down dogs all strapped with tight collars.
If's it's a bird dog you've got and are trying to reach,
first you show love then you go teach.
A dog has to love what he's doing inside
or else he won't hunt,he'll just run off and hide.
For Joe's the best bird dog there ever will be
'cause I have loved Joe and he has loved me.
She’s dead
But will always stay alive
A beacon for everyone with a gripe
Thatcher snatcher was their war cry
When with apparent vigour
She tore asunder all society held dear
A divisive strong willed fighter
With femininity covering a steely frame
She moved gracefully among men
A force of reckoning
In a world sphere where enemies are held dear
She finally met her maker
But will never die
Her legacy outlives her presence
A formidable opponent now in a grave
With glee they gloat
Ding dong the wicked witch is finally dead
Praises and condemnation come from all over the globe
Some will assess her on her overall impact
Both then and until now
Others will always remember wrongs
That were brutally inflicted
On an apparently obedient society and country
Dragging us away from our empire building
Death always calls
He will not be out smarted
No matter the heights in politics one reaches
An end of a life
Often brings a renewed interest in the past
The bandwagon has catapulted her
Back into The limelight
When she was almost forgotten
To divide and rule seemed to have been her best skill
Her un-bending no alternative mantra
Caused much ill-will
Yet the country prospered
The right to buy scheme made
Home ownership possible
A vote buying scheme
That made the middle class grow
Pity the milk tokens are what condemns her so
She hammered a few who with
Entrenched special interest
Mangled the country
Stagnating both the economy
And society
The belief in individuality
Coupled with free market economics
Set up a house of cards that blew over
Long before she breathed her last
Virulent machismo
Where the sharks circled
Even when they smelt no blood
Overcame her eventually
She was of course partly to blame
But no one has ruled since as she did
A woman in a man’s world was she
Wielding much power
Over the men that surrounded her
Over Her party and ultimately a short sighted country
To the pinnacle of both party
And country she rose
Her handbag swung far and wide
Her three times victory
A testimony to her longevity
And he ability to play the system
She didn't invent
Rest In peace
Or pieces Maggie
You came
You Conquered and
Have now left the stage
Your legacy will be fought over incessantly
Without Knowing Your Gender...,
(nonetheless ex post facto still flattered)
Bhutan names defy affiliating,
determining, identifying... gender,
and what a faux pas this dada admits,
when a blessed high school
student did league gully tender
benighted, gifted, ordained yours truly
with sobriquet "Guru"
alluded to in previous poem, render
ring this foolish hearty good fella (me)
falling prey to embarrassing situation,
(I did misrender
as would be expected
from this crash test dummy,
who dented his psychological fender),
vis virtual mind bender,
when an initial presumption
smarted Matthew Scott as offender,
asper online youth NO pretender
by him, aye mean the sender
communicated his admiration,
adoration, adulation for this big spender
of sincerity, viz singular poetic magi - (ha)
made presumption that
unknown messenger slender,
and female, and
upon enclosing appender
referencing person as "lovely princess"
did respondent clarify finding deface
of zee poet here -
logic chops went thru blender
as if slapped by a suspender
experiencing irrevocable shame
as though a contender
attempting to guide false supposition
playfully mistaking sexual
identity of male sender,
he (young kneeler)
bowed as winning scoring goaltender
down as mine professed
metrical feet, he who acquiesced
non Asian minor, friender
NOT seeking moneylender,
nor mistook my heart of gold),
mine apology I did obligingly surrender
and possibly chuckled to himself,
asper an uproarious hellbender
whereat my countenance turned
fifty plus shades of lavender.
I admit I broke all the rules,
This fool considered them jewels.
I care not about cost and fees:
Each a burden of stormy breeze.
God loves the sinner, not the sin.
Each sin he would throw in the bin.
Repent, all souls have all My keys
I will you not in hell doth freeze.
Know God heals the broken-hearted,
My cold heart ought to be smarted.
Whereas through life, each sin He sees.
Will you forgive and my faults ease?
Down I go to pray on my knees.
O Lord, be compassionate, please.
No one in this world , will take Ur place !!!
Seeing the horizon halfway drowned
As it looks all round
I wish U were around
To see the pain with which M actually crowned
Feeling the gentle breeze
Flowing through the seas
Sizzling rain drizzling away the lees
Always reminds Me of Our blistering memories
The moment I lost Ur touch
Anguish in heart increased such
Life suffered severe drought
Really I never thought
I would miss U so much
Depth of love with in Me still uncharted
As the days pass it gets smarted
Recalling the time We parted
Agonizes the soul, Leaving Me like a broken hearted
Can’t wait for the day
It’s really hard for Me to stay away
Dear,
I swear
Always wants to see
grace on Ur face
Within My heart,
No one in this world
Will take Ur place
--------yashu
My thoughts drift back thro' the fleeting mists of time,
To my youth when life seemed somewhat more sublime.
Memories waft thro' my mind as tho' on gossamer wings,
Recalling uncommon folks, events and very special things!
I'll never forget the taste of Blackjack or Teaberry gum.
Being chosen last for the game and feeling so very glum.
Then we played the game without raging, meddlesome adults.
Kids handled things, albeit, at times with bruising results!
My friends nor I ever owned fancy pedigreed dogs.
We played with Erector Sets, Tinker Toys and Lincoln Logs.
A motorcycle sound was made by pasteboard flapping on bicycle spokes.
Eyes smarted from fizz in noses as we sipped our nickel cokes!
Teachers wore suits and ties; ladies wore dresses and high heels.
A bit of sass earned a session with one of the school's wheels!
They didn't abide chewing gum, caps or any other slovenly trait,
But worst of all was facing Mom at home and learning of your fate!
I recall Green Stamps, the Fuller Brush Man and Studebaker cars,
Candy cigarettes, Bit-O-Honey and Powerhouse candy bars.
How wealthy I felt upon receiving an allowance of a dime
Ah! Such simple joys! My! How things have changed over time!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
He sits outside my window
The loudest thing I've ever heard
He keeps me awake all night long
I'm gonna kill that mockingbird
He even mimics my wife snoring
He's a mockingbird you see
My wife's half deaf, she can't hear him
Sawing logs up in that tree
When daylight comes he's as quiet as a mouse
And I just can't find his nest
I think that bird thinks he's smarter than me
So I'll put him to the test
I put on my best camouflage
With a flashlight taped to my hat
I crawled on my belly, behind my house
To see where he was at
I stayed outside all night long
And that bird didn't utter a sound
My back was aching and my butt was sore
From sleeping on the cold,cold ground
The very next night I went to bed
And that bird started singing once more
But I think he must have invited some friends
'Cause it was a whole lot louder than before
To make a long story short, I out smarted that bird
And now he's as quiet as a mouse
For now I sleep outside every night
In my bed behind the house
Saturday afternoon
The wind blew hard this afternoon in Cascais
whirls of dry soil, the dust, smarted eyes
Not much fun walking around doing nothing
looking into shop windows of expensive dresses
A barber shop was still open, and a barber with
scissors in his hand looked haughty, challenging
me to enter, oh, no, my man, my wife cuts my hair
I hate having a haircut, a few strands of hair left
on my scalp, may not grow back.
Horses turn their back to the wind, and I had to
face the blast going home.
I sat on the terrace, looking at the sea that
was greenish today; I don’t look at the ocean
often having seen the sea until tedium
while waiting for the potatoes to boil.
But I do remember the Caribbean Sea, with
a dulcet smile.
Without knowing your gender...,
(nevertheless ex post facto still flattered
genuine heartfelt kinship mattered,
hence the reasonable rhyme
across the webbed wide world
I subsequently scattered).
Linkedin to the previous poem,
(similarly written scant few years ago.
I also codified, glorified, and lamented
an unexpected cessation of communication
with he/him who affixed yours truly
appellation of wise man, which modesty
of mine gently downplays.
Bhutan names defy affiliating,
determining, identifying... gender,
and what a faux pas this dada admits,
when a blessed high school
student did league gully tender
benighted, gifted, ordained yours truly
with sobriquet "Guru"
alluded to in previous poem, render
ring this foolish hearty good fella (me)
falling prey to embarrassing situation,
(I did miss render
as would be expected
from this crash test dummy,
who dented his psychological fender),
vis virtual mind bender,
when an initial presumption
smarted Matthew Scott as offender,
asper online youth NO pretender
by him, aye mean the sender
communicated his admiration,
adoration, adulation for this big spender
of sincerity, viz singular poetic magi - (ha)
made presumption that
unknown messenger slender,
and female, and
upon enclosing appender
referencing person as "lovely princess"
did respondent clarify finding deface
of zee poet here -
logic chops went thru blender
as if slapped by a suspender
experiencing irrevocable shame
as though a contender
attempting to guide false supposition
playfully mistaking sexual
identity of male sender,
he (young kneeler)
bowed as winning scoring goaltender
down as mine professed
metrical feet, he who acquiesced
non Asian minor, friender
NOT seeking moneylender,
nor mistook my heart of gold,
mine apology I did obligingly surrender
and possibly chuckled to himself,
asper an uproarious hellbender
whereat my countenance turned
sixty plus four shades of lavender.
Covid rules explained
About the covid 19, in case things don’t seem clear
This is what we need to do, so we don’t live in fear
We can mix with different households, as long as we’re not seven
Unless of course we’ve gone to work and bubbled with eleven
So if you have five children, then I’m sorry but you’re stuffed
No one can come in your house, and you can’t go out, it’s tough
If you are all together you can’t go for a meal
So just forget that eat out scheme, you’re too many for that deal
You could maybe have two tables, but you’re not allowed to stray
If you stay where they have seated you the virus goes away
You can’t mix with the people who’s household you are in
But the waiter can bring you a drink, he’s lifted by the rim
Then there’s local lockdowns, don’t even meet in groups of six
If you’re from different households you simply cannot mix
Not even in a garden, the virus will get you there
But if you go out for a walk it simply doesn’t care
If you’re in the pub after ten the virus will descend
But all hop on the underground and it will not offend
Before ten you will be ok, but please don’t sing or dance
Coz if you have too much fun, you just don’t stand a chance
A hairdresser can cut your hair and even trim your beard
But if you want to see a doctor, face to face is feared
You must explain on the phone what symptoms you can see
You may as well just google, ask Alexa or Siri
If you want a big Christmas feast, you have to kill the cat
Coz theres thirty at a funeral and it will stay away from that
You can’t go to a theatre, but you can sit on a plane
As long as when you come back you don’t go out again
You could take a different route, the virus then out smarted
No need for isolation, as you detoured it departed
And when you get your hair done don’t ask for a tea
As the virus lives in their mugs, but the coffee shops are Covid free
If you are in any doubt what rules apply to you
Just follow all the MP’s, they’ll show you what to do.
Tracie Heard
03/10/20
She was first to the top of the hill,
He was close behind.
A stranger and yet there was recognition of something familiar
By both parties as their eyes met as he appeared above the crest of the hill.
Maybe it was it was the inner strength on the part of them both,
Against all odds they had stayed firm and not climbed a board the ship of state,
Rejecting the offer of happy pills
To get them out of the doldrums both.
No they still felt the need to keep their eyes open and their minds free
Preferring the view from the top of the hill,
Not caring if the wind smarted their cheeks
As it served to remind them that they were alive and free.
The pain that should have been there as they looked down
On the ship of state as it pulled up anchor and sailed out of the doldrums,
With those on board, unaware of the choppy seas ahead,
Bereft of any thought that they might drown.
It was enough for them both,
To no longer have to hear their warnings falling on deaf ears
Or be tempted to give up all feeling and be blissfully ignorant,
Under the ship of state sail cloth.
Only after the ship of state had disappeared from view
Did they feel the need to speak,
Unashamedly guilt free
As they sat holding hands seeing no ship to spoil the view.