Best Stark Raving Mad Poems
They’re playing bingo in the lounge bar,
between ten and dinner time,
pensioners arrive from near and far,
to try and win a bingo dime.
I’m watching from me usual stool,
and hear numbers shouted out,
while drinking beer that’s nice and cool,
waiting for the ‘bingo’ shout.
While there is laughter and loud groaning,
depending on their bingo luck,
some others claim of their disowning,
because bad luck has struck.
They are not sitting at a bingo table,
but in a corner all alone,
knowing for now that they’re unable,
to leave the tavern comfort zone.
The Barley Tavern offers shelter
for the likes of Lukey Brown,
who’s problem’s not a mere welter,
but a simple wife put down.
We all know that a woman scorned
can breed disaster to a tee,
and many times a love is mourned,
that’s why I offer therapy.
I brought a beer for Lukey Brown,
who gave me a nod and smile,
and after I was sitting down,
I put Lukey up on trial.
“So what’s the go old Lukey mate?
Why are you feeling so morose?”
And Lukey took a while to state,
“Are all women bellicose?”
Lukey really had me puzzled there,
‘What does bellicose all mean?’
And Lukey states “it means beware,
the wife’s about cause a scene,
and all because she made remarks,
about a couple down the road,
and my reply it set off sparks,
and bellicose so quickly showed.”
Then I supplied more therapy,
shouting Lukey another beer,
to ward off living dangerously,
but to learn to live with fear.
“She pointed to a couple in the street,
who played a loving sexy game,
kissing, cuddling, and no way discreet -
then! Why can’t you do the same?”
“Why can’t I do the same I said.
Have you gone stark raving mad!
I got the stare that means I’m dead,
everything got worse than bad.
With crude insults I copped the hurl -
- can you get me another beer?
I said no way, I don’t know the girl;
and that’s the reason I’m in here.”
The Vicious Wicked Cuts Of Dead Dreams And Reality
The lake, its long, wide sandy beach, called to me
urgent messages, saying feel this in my seeking heart
cryptic signs, splashing in stormy moonlit swells
that vision, that jewel, pure beauty walking on water
a ravenous goddess sent to Love and set me Free-
not the courage for which my prayers had begged
nor that massive strength this body so dearly craved
not even the power to deny death's grip, its final knock
just her and a body that drove this soul stark, raving mad
her lustful body and a kiss that had slain lost empires-
how could I such exquisite treasure ever dare to deny
refuse its promises, gentle touch and enticing smiles
its moans and solemn promise of happiness to come
vows that swore eternity would be our bountiful reward
and how each new dawn our bed would be our golden palace-
then the calls stopped, the waters dried and searing pain
falling heartfirst into a deep, dark and roaring void
the vicious cuts and stings that ate into crackling bones
dreaded nights of agony's loss, icing large poisoned cakes
and daybreak with its dying moans of soul ripping lights-
the goddess, the lake, the beach all had just disappeared
and from the new abyss, came that horrible beast named Reality-
R. J. Lindley,
May 27th, 1976
Dark verse,
( When The World Delivers Its Most Heartbreaking Blows )
If you are the mother of Vlad
Your heart is increasingly sad
Vlad just wants more ground
The whole world has found
That bugger is stark raving mad!
My sheep go “Baa, Baa, Baa”
My sheep go “Baa, Baa, Baa”
My sheep go “Baa, Baa, Baa, Baa, Baa”
Farm country’s quite a place
Greener space and friendly smiles
My sheepdog likes to chase
Grazing flocks out here for miles
You know without sheep,
Don’t ya know I would be sad
Yeah without sheep,
I would go stark raving mad
My sheep go “Baa, Baa, Baa”
My sheep go “Baa, Baa, Baa”
And with a woolly friend, your life is never bad
They call me Miss BoPeep
I guess it’s sorta fair
Because my spoiled sheep
Get tender loving care
You know without sheep,
Don’t ya know I would be sad
Yeah without sheep,
I would go stark raving mad, ooh!
My sheep go “Baa, Baa, Baa”
My sheep go “Baa, Baa, Baa”
And with a woolly friend, your life is never bad
So you can spread the word
My stock stick waives with pride
Noisy faithful herds
Are always by my side
You know without sheep,
Don’t ya know I would be sad
Yeah without sheep,
I would go stark raving mad, ooh!
My sheep go “Baa, Baa, Baa”
My sheep go “Baa, Baa, Baa”
And with a woolly friend, your life is never bad
With a woolly friend, your life is never bad
With a woolly friend, your life is never...
Bad!
"Baa, Baa, Baa"
"Baa, Baa, Baa, Baaaaaa"
Cajole me in the right frame of mind
For I'm vexed not because of
Personal issues but because of the
Morbid, abstract canvas of life
I'm subjected to witness, where
Groups of so-called righteous men
Drop indiscriminate bombs
On fellow humans ripping
Homes and families apart
Shedding the blood of the innocent
Then simply labeling it
Collateral damage -
Collateral damage of War
Shelling babies... collateral
Damage of war!
Then pluck out thine eyes
With two bold fingers
For I cannot bear witness
To the dislodging of families
Fleeing wildly wherever
The cold wind blows
Crossing rough seas
None with the ability of
Jesus to walk on water
Nor faith to part it like Moses
Water ...swilling with red blood
And saline stinging tears
Mothers wailing bearing
The agony in suffering
Petrified twisted faces pressed
To their wet bosoms
Fathers gnashing teeth,
Raging, panting, feeling
Like a poltroon
Powerless. Gray skies depicts
No rainbow, no promise.
Strike me down
I refuse to bear witness
Beseeching before I meet my demise,
Obliterate borders, these
Man made borders
Us with our Jingoistic attitude
Jingoistic ... flag waving
Entitlement ... displaying
Utmost xenophobia
The mantra mocking
Go home, go home, go
Home - face your fate
On your homeland soil
Drenched and soaked in blood.
I shiver terrifically in my skin
What if it was me ... you
In those weathered skin
Under the moon and stars
Branded a refugee, worthless
Vulnerable, famished, weak
Motivated by hope to
Overcome barriers and borders
And when pruned fleshed
Feet imprint the coarse sand
There's no child in hand
Swallowed up by the gluttonous sea
Let hell's bells drone on
When dastardly Superpowers drop
Nasty bombs on the innocent
Butchering, maiming ... moribund
Then labeling it collateral damage
Cajole me in the right frame of mind
For I will go stark raving mad.
© 2015 Denise Morgan
When a fetus or baby, I then could have been:
Born to mother who died, or with father unknown
Into poverty born in a nation not free
With impairments or problems I've never outgrown
Or by parents aborted if she, not a he.
I was lucky
When a child and teenager, I could have been:
A delinquent or orphan or war refugee
Or abandoned or crippled, for child labor used
Without friends, joy, or future or dead from OD
Or unschooled or deprived or unloved or abused.
I was lucky
When full-grown in my prime, I could also have been:
An inebriate, parasite, vagrant, or jailed
Or been killed in a war or had not met my wife
Unemployed or an entrepreneur who had failed
Or severely depressed or had taken my life.
I was lucky
And I could in the decades that followed have been:
Unexpectedly fired, into bankruptcy forced
By an accident maimed, watching children go bad
Or a victim of crime or been sued or divorced
Or betrayed by a friend, or gone stark, raving mad.
I was lucky
With retirement approaching, I then could have been:
From my children estranged, mourning death of my wife
Or investing unwisely or homeless or broke
Having manic disorders or bored with my life
Or in hospital bed with a cancer or stroke.
I was lucky
Over eighty, like many my age I could be:
With no pension or savings or family left
Or dependent on charity, begging, or theft
In a nursing home languishing, sad and confined
All alone and an invalid, witless, or blind.
I am lucky (or blessed)
A little tic, he’s crazy
Lunatic
Raving on destruction
Lunatalk
Oily black plumage
Greasy black eyes
Blurry with delusion
Dreary dark disguise
He cocks his head just so
so he can see your soul
and then he
SCREAMS IN YOUR FACE.
calms down to an embrace
of a little tic; he’s crazy.
Lunatic.
It's war he wages
thumbing pages
of your autobiography
stark raving mad
mumbling something about
dreams so sad
and shattered, shattered, shattered
SHATTERED DREAMS!
in smithereens
he screams.
Then as he preens,
it’s destruction in his mumbling
your fumbling world is crumbling
he raves…
Lunatalk.
He’s crazy.
08/31/15
I met a guy in the dairy section of my local grocery store
He was carrying an over-the-shoulder, leather purse
He had a purple scarf around his neck, what could be worse?
The fellow was driving a great big, black funeral hearse!
A buxom young lady was shopping in the produce aisles
I could have sworn she had had extensive lipo-suction
Her enormous biceps were a work under construction
She had three children with her, an obvious deduction.
I moved on to the meat department and stood watching
An old lady maneuvering an enormous motorized grip
Ordered a butcher to cut her a three-pound New York strip
While she was waiting she did a perfect backward, reverse flip.
Tell me, before I go stark raving, mad-as-a-hatter crazy
I am jumping too quickly to unwarranted conclusions
That after what I saw I should immediately go into seclusion
It only seems that way; clearly, I am victim of my own delusions.
Written March 18, 2021
Submitted to Kai Michael Neumann’s
“It Only Seems That Way” contest
I hope one day you suffer
I hope one day you burn
I hope one day you pay
For the love you have spurned
I hope you feel the torment
I hope you feel jagged thorn
I hope that you long to die
As in sackcloth black you mourn
I hope you feel less than dirt
I hope you twist with such pain
I hope betrayal drives you
Stark raving mad and insane
I hope one day you're haunted
I hope in terror you scream
I hope at nighttime you see
A nightmare in place of dream
I hope one day SOON you bleed
With a spear thrust in your side
Wounded for killing my love
Your soul not able to hide
Yes, it may be pure evil
It may be a heinous crime
But for my heart's rejection
I hope you get to do time
Yes, I hope that you suffer
I hope that you wail and weep
It will soothe my aching heart
That you didn’t want to keep
Eileen Manassian Ghali
You Wake Up To Find Out Black And White Are The Same
He said, yes, fear Fate when curves destroy the straight line
When the circle turns into a huge blacken square
And malignant rocks are the food on which you dine
And your saddest night's memories are what you share
Life spins out its tangles to catch cowardly fools
And dawn dances on the sweet memories you hold
Your build your comfort house on sand, with rusty tools
Loss catches you because on folly you are sold
Rumor and lies fly in to create a false truth
Your few friends believe you to be stark raving mad
You try and try to salvage your sad failing youth
Nobody believes your because tall tales are bad.
Life seems to be wrong and a most vicious game.
You wake up to find out black and white are the same.
Robert J. Lindley, Sonnet
Nov. 5th 1975
ANYONE CAN BE A FATHER BUT NOT EVERYONE CAN BE A DAD,
I WANTED TO LET YOU KNOW THAT YOU ARE THE BEST FATHER THAT A SON EVER HAD.
WHEN I WAS YOUNGER YOU USE TO TELL ME STORIES UNTIL I FELL ASLEEP,
AS I GOT OLDER YOU WERE ALWAYS THERE FOR ME WHEN I GOT IN TROUBLE NO MATTER HOW DEEP.
YOU WOULD TAKE ME FISHING WHEN I WAS A LITTLE BOY,
YOU WERE ALWAYS THERE BESIDE ME WHEN I CAUGHT A FISH TO SHARE THAT MOMENT OF JOY.
WHEN THINGS DIDN'T GO QUITE RIGHT YOU TOLD ME THAT TOMORROW WOULD BE A BETTER DAY,
EACH NIGHT WHEN I WENT TO BED YOU WOULD STAND BESIDE ME AS I WOULD PRAY.
SOMETIMES AS I GOT OLDER I DID NOT SHOW YOU THE RESPECT THAT YOU DESERVED,
BUT NEVER DID I STOP THINKING HOW LUCKY I WAS TO BE YOUR SON THAT IS FOR SURE.
THOUGH DEAR FATHER I MAY NOT HAVE SAID IT QUITE ENOUGH,
I JUST WANTED TO LET YOU KNOW DEAR DAD THAT I ALWAYS LOVED YOU VERY MUCH.
WHEN THE TIMES COMES FATHER THAT YOU GET CALLED BACK HOME,
I WILL NOT ONLY LOSE A FATHER BUT ALSO A FRIEND AND MY HEART WILL TURN TO STONE.
IN CASE YOU DO NOT REALIZE IT FATHER I AM A WHOLE LOT LIKE YOU,
I ALWAYS HELP OTHERS AND I'M NICE TO PEOPLE TOO.
IF IT WAS NOT FOR THE STRENGTH AND VIRTUES YOU HAVE GIVEN TO ME DAD,
THEN LONG AGO DUE TO DIFFICULTIES IN MY LIFE I WOULD HAVE GONE STARK RAVING MAD.
EVEN THOUGH THIS WORLD IS NOT ALWAYS THE HAPPIEST PLACE,
I KNOW IN MY HEART I CAN ALWAYS DEPEND ON THE GREATEST DAD THAT CAN BE FOUND ANYPLACE.
I WISH FATHER THAT THESE MERE WORDS COULD EXPRESS EXACTLY HOW I FEEL,
THAT I WISH THAT I COULD REPAY YOU FOR EVERYTHING YOU HAVE DONE FOR ME AND MADE IT REAL.
SO SOMETIME IF YOU ARE FEELING DOWN OR JUST A LITTLE BLUE,
PLEASE REMEMBER DAD THAT YOU HAVE A SON THAT IS VERY PROUD OF YOU.
I WOULD NOT HAVE EVER TRADED YOU FOR ANY OTHER FATHER THAT IS THE HONEST TRUTH
BECAUSE I DO NOT BELIEVE THAT ANYONE COULD BE A BETTER FATHER THAN YOU.
I JUST WANTED TO WRITE THIS FOR YOU ON THIS FATHER'S DAY
TO TELL YOU DAD THAT I LOVE YOU IN EACH IN EVERY WAY.
IF YOU ARE EVEN ONE HALF AS PROUD AS I AM OF YOU,
TO HAVE A SON LIKE ME THEN I AM VERY LUCKY TOO.
I HOPE THAT THIS CONVEYED TO YOU JUST HOW GLAD I AM,
THAT YOU ARE MY FATHER AND IT WAS YOU THAT MADE ME A GOOD MAN.
IN MEMORY OF MY FATHER LEWIS JAMES KOLTER DIED DECEMBER 16TH 1996
I MISS HIM DEARLY
Written By Michael James Kolter
HAVE A LISTEN
No one could stand it
A long quiet period
Yes! intense quiet
We who are so used to noise
We would go stark raving mad!
And what antidote?
Why the antidote is noise
With electric shocks
Little spurts of pure LOUD noise
But don’t overdo.
Look at today’s world
A world gone stark raving mad
A world in love with
NOISE! The worst cacophony
God grant us peace and quiet
A poem~ For Alyssa
"Lost border collie...Jordan"
Dedicated to the beautiful children
lost in a Florida massacre!
We can't find Jordan anymore
He's lying under Alyssa's bed.
He does not know she is dead
A killer's bullet in her head.
The TV stations ..ratings mad,
Flash her picture.
Jordan's eyes grow sad
Her father is stark raving mad.
So, off to the cemetery they go
With balloons and flowers
And bleeding hearts... And...
Endless tears, sleepless nights
He cannot walk her down the aisle.
Nor will he see her children smile.
And those of us with progeny
Feel their pain with ultimate agony.
Panagiota Romios
he screams and yells and throws his arms
he runs helter here and skelter there
i don't do all that but am mentally ill
she rips her clothes, underwear n all
and roam d town, nakedness unknown,
i don't do all that but am mentally ill
he eats the things he finds in bins and browses through d trash in search
i don't all that but am mentally ill
she throws stones and sticks n bricks, hiding under sheds n bridge, her
battle in her head alone, i don't do all that but am mentally ill
if u could see what i see
hear what i hear
fight my battles n cry my tears, if you'v had everything taken away from u,your life ,your dreams, your very soul,you'd grab your head and shake it hard till you can literally feel your brain a bounce,
you'd scream and shout when no one is home and fix on your face that mask of cool,
you'd ask a question and answer back, the characters only you have met
you'd know that am mentally ill.
certainly am stark raving mad.
The cinnamon tea lover in me thrives
Hand-held book comes to a surprising end
Be careful reaching in the honey hives
Observing cruelty of the author’s bend
Suspense creeps in with tea and crumpets, dear,
And murder, mayhem, chaos, stirred right in
And lumps of sugar fuel our need to fear
So not to take a sip, would be a sin
That spot of tea with a delicious plot
Interesting characters, both good and bad
Protagonist fights her way to the top
It can drive your tea bags stark raving mad
Authors have that awful glint in their eyes
Because they do decide – who lives, who dies