Best Subhuman Poems
Thank you, Mr. Rogers (yes, his real name!)
for rescuing me from teenage purgatory.
Perplexed teenager, lacking social lumen
pulled C's in English, D's in History -
my dreadful retrograde trajectory
projected no collegiate acumen,
in prom discussions, practically subhuman!
Then, your poetical geometry
and sleek Cartesian choreography
became my sailing ship, and I, its crewman.
Derivatives soon danced in arcs non-static.
Pythagorean proofs helped me progress,
vectors resolved problems that once would vex.
Your agile algebra of joy quadratic:
my new hypotenuse of happiness
helped me to find myself... I solved for x.
Written 13 March 2020
Deep in the dungeon in the back left corner
Was a mere shell of what was once a man.
He was shackled to the wall of his own design
By the love of his lady so fair, and divine
The queen of a land so far away in time
With a king who held her ever so dear
Locking them away alone from peasant's view
None of his subjects gazed upon this mentally ill king
He had a smothering love for his queen,
Abusing her in every way
Never there for love, but only in his mind
She hadn't felt his touch in years, other than abuse
Then one day her knight came in on his white steed
They loved under moonlight each night in secrecy
Hiding their treasonous affair from the evil king
Until one night he caught them
The knight dueled injuring the king's ability to speak
The queen fearing their treasonous death
Plotted and schemed as not to be beheaded
To the knight's chamber they carried him
Dousing the room in oil laying him on the floor
Dropping the lantern the knight held
Flames rose in the chamber, consuming him
The queen screamed to the subjects for help
All the court came running to douse the fire out
The knight and queen really started
The true king was unrecognizable and couldn't even whisper
The knight came forward as her husband the king
The queen burst into tears,
Explaining how the knight attacked her,
Setting the room ablaze
All his subjects bowed before the knight, the changeling
I am sorry dear king, the subjects said
As the knight pulled the queen to him,
Ushering them to take him away, to the dungeon below,
Shackled, and chained, in his own kingdom
In the dungeon the king waited, to be beheaded
The knight secretly became the king instantly
Taking his spot next to the love of his life, the queen
No one suspected a single thing
She visited the king one last time before he died
Telling him how she loved him, stroking his cheek
Watching the next day as they beheaded him,
Hiding her head in her knight unknown
Her dark side she displayed
The day her knight became her king
And her king became some subhuman thing
He had truly always been
The knight now the king with his lovely queen
Ruled for many years, having ten children
Of tainted royal blood, but no one ever knew
Their secret love and darkest treason ever committed.
( Poem about Kurdish Iranian teenager attacked in Croydon)
Refugee boy
Just 17
Yet your eyes have seen so much
Now so far from home and loved ones
You thought you were free from danger
In your land of refuge
Life was routine again
College and a visit to the teahouse on the way home
It was familiar, cosy
You said you were lucky you were here
Just before…
A pack of ‘hyenas’ set upon you
You had invaded their ‘territory’
Drunk and vicious subhuman dregs of society
They kicked your slender frame
Again, again and again
They cracked your skull, your spine
And left you for dead
Some ‘hyenas’ circled
Watched and jeered
You are stronger than them
They could not break your spirit
You were meant to live, Godspeed
WAR
Senseless killings
Barbaric and animalistic desires
Necrophilia and sadomasochism
Blinded by nationalistic pride
All out war
So babies have no where to hide
Drone attacks on hospitals and nurseries
They bury their corpses
In cheap boxes
Bombs and guided missiles
Strike targets from the sky
The innocent are murdered
So I ask why
Technology is pushed to its very limit
Seals fire shots with laser that beam it
With accuracy and precision
But what is yardstick to politicians’ decision?
Resources are channel to produce victory
The masses are slaughtered
So again we repeat history
Both sides of the wall commit atrocities
The resurrection of man’s innate beastiality
Collateral damage caused in every surgical strike
And then we face reprisal
Explosives on trucks and even on a bike
IEDs!
So watch where you are stepping
Women are foes too
So be careful with who you re helping
Suicide bombers looking for soft hits
Same was the 1960s and the 21st century is a repeat
Nukes and ICBMs
Delivery is eminent
Annihilation of the subhuman race
And to put our names in history’s place
Dooms day arrives
See the markings of World War III
Orbital bombardment from attack satellites
But all you see is
Red light
Blue light
Then we are consumed by fire
I shall live beyond this day
So the devil is a liar
A million boots put in harms way
And with their blood they shall pay
Love ones wish they could stay
And pray not for that day
Torpedoes launched from submarines
Tomahawks fired from cruisers
The battle for oil and land
But we are all losers
War!
You are not a size
Nor blown up bust and thunder thighs
You are a being
Of emotions, feelings and many unseen
Like a mysterious ocean, you get wet on coast and deep
But precious jewels at the bottom are the ones to keep
Ultimate creation
No need for subhuman appreciation
Glowing like a happy star
Knowing who you are
One glance and you are there
Like a fresh breath of air
Can't live without
The divine proof for every doubt.
Tuesday 13/1/2015
8:26 am
The world is filled
With those who kill
With God's name on their lips
Oh how morally ill,
Be he Buddah, Christ, Mohammed,
Krishna, no matter what the name,
What you have done, is totally insane
You wanker, you fool,
You kIll for 72 virgins,
Or spreading your gospel,
With unholy excursions,
The sex of a dead man
More than you deserve,
Your insult to God,
Beyond any word
You Nazi, you fool,
You brainless devil's tool,
Just wait till you die,
You dweller of cesspool
For each life taken,
Is counted off before you
As you beg mercy,
For what you did do
Scum of the Earth,
Subhuman of heart
When you do succumb,
It's only the start
Of enjoying your afterlife,
Sorry, no women for you,
You'll be the devil's plaything,
For all the evil you did do.
Her hands gnarled and knotted
slumping as she walked
some called out when she was spotted
her shout name was Lady Dumpster
as she staggered along, she talked
folks tried to help her—she balked
When she was a girl, she was plump
family lived near the dump ground
her dad called her “the big lump”
everything they owned was found
from digging in the garbage dump
Maggie never finished school
rumor floated round the town
(pregnant by a family member)
her brother said to be so cruel
someone made her sister drown
No baby, no Maggie!
sadly lost from the start
an elusive character no longer human
years later, out she came pushing her cart
her dignity and mind were now subhuman
Her saga does not end well
life for her, a living hell
under a bridge lay Maggie quite frozen
holding her dead cat—
So it goes--how fortunate for that
she died in a place that she had chosen
This a true story with literary license. © a year ago, Carol Davis
Nostradamus ician incantation once meet.
Informal inveracity of the ignoble sect.
Saviors stylish mercies sensed saving their necks.
Invariably today were imputed more adult.
Placing belittled Bibles on the very top shelf.
Next shelf implement the almanac.
Impending how arrangements tend to imbue.
Saviors sweet tune of the scented cock a too.
Were well deserving of our labors.
Incongruities ignite in-between neighbors.
Inconspicuous identification erupts into trouble.
Soldiers marching ides, on the double.
Truth impugned ; subhuman indelible infamy.
Saviors transcendent healing: iatric stylets.
Next shelf implement the dictionary.
Jesus; Icon; identify; ideal; Icarus; iffy.
Incredulous! how impious ideas initiate with i.
Saviors stance steady, as indignant missiles aren't stones.
I sit in a tent, rain pouring down
My children are crying, no food to eat.
My spirit is failing, starting to drown,
Hands clasped in prayer, my God to entreat.
My homeland has perished, corruption and war.
Our houses destroyed, our lives ripped apart.
Inhuman brutality to even the score
The only choice left was to make a new start.
I am not a migrant, nor scum of the Earth
But driven by force at the point of a lance.
Educated, hard working, a person of worth,
Am I not worthy to be given a chance?
Described with derision, insulted and harmed,
Demoted to numbers contained in a speech.
Our boat was a lucky one, only becalmed
The others all drowned, bodies found on a beach.
I am not subhuman, good Lord above
I must give my children a chance to succeed
To live life in freedom, respect and love,
If you prick us do we not bleed?
Most people are friendly, most people are nice
The lunatic fringe cause all the crap to be precise
A necessary evil
These subhuman people
Been around forever these murderous lice
Most people are friendly, most people are nice
The lunatic fringe cause the crap to be precise
A necessary evil
These subhuman people
Been around forever these murderous lice
It’s a terrible thing to be treated
as less than human ... all should abhor
Considered only as beast of burden —
that’s the lying end of it, nothing more
Iron yoke was our neck collar,
leash was a throat chain
Valued sixty cents on a dollar,
man is a doggone shame!
We were oxen on a perpetual till,
work mules in a plantation field
Our sweat harvest was golden amber grain
of one hundred percent sob pain inhumane
On the wage scale of cloaked justice,
for our labor, we were given nothing
Every economy based on oppression knows,
slaves are beast of burden most profitable
Muzzled voices auction sold
in the free market as pack animals
Degradation of subhuman sorrow
made us feel less than whole
Wary buyers were merchant told,
slaves were worth their weight in gold
Bray truth load in the cargo hold:
Talking mules have a Three-Fifth soul
~
O, Shopper Queen, $$ bag Lady Liberty,
I pagan pray with measured uncertainty
Leaning hard on your graven image mercy
for sooo long has been spiked crown thorny
I do now toil realize, hence I speak Perseus bold:
The grind-stone torch you Medusa hold,
whose covetous flame be imperious cold,
has dollar burned a hole into my Three-Fifth soul
False Profits bought have emptied out
from these pockets of Forty acre doubt
Wavy trust carry not any anthem clout,
rest easy on full pay is plow turnabout
This I do believe, Miss Lady Liberty, from Times old:
Pyramid schemes have an expiration date bar code
400-years interest repaid of Redeem hope stole
has principally made whole my Three-Fifth soul
Okay, for Christy, who I could never refuse;
Do you have to be fat to have a large intestine?
I'm afraid to ask what kind of dance they do in Lapland.
Dripping pan- a pan that leaks.
Is a plebeian a female striving to join a gay organization?
Quibble and Bits- arguing with the grocer over the price of dog food.
Subhuman- a sailor on a submarine.
Monkey wrench- forcefully pulling a chimpanzee that is holding on to it's cage.
Betty Crocker- a woman who's cookbook if filled with pathological lies.
Prodigy- a young person exceptionally talented at poking people with a stick.
Probate- a lure to attract professional roaches.
the numbers were in and it didn't look pretty
you people surrender your minds so easily
they dumb you down and you know it
they dumb you down and you let them
but it wasn’t coercion either
basically we have many souls
most of them severe critics
at the dawn of time a single drop of blood
fell on Mother Nature's lips
and she was hooked forever
a million wasted sperm is no way to live
random selection had done its worse
evil had survived the millennia just fine
well what any human knows
is they can do better next time
the point is to insure a next time
the world had been flushed
down a great stinking pipe again
the old school mutates or dies
goodbye old school
you have become a national holiday
needless to say they weren't listening
but it was too late for regret
the old school had initiated him
into the Clan of the Goat Poet
he sees where his next thought comes from
everything filled with clues is a clue itself
blindness is the human condition
idiocy is the subhuman condition
infantilism is the transhuman condition
anthropomorphism is the...somebody stop him
needless to say he dabbled in the grotesque
on a need to know basis so it was OK
I know a cheap eruption of demagoguery
but you can't be free if you are hiding in a mirror
also I've been getting complaints
about vestigial blandness lately
my lawyers Wanker & Bludgeon
had counseled caution in all things
so I lapsed into a 5 year waking coma
nothing to do but leave on the right note
with a casual wave and a simple screw it
in case you were wondering
everything is the way it is
so it would be believable
Monsters lurk in
Open fields.
Neo demons,
Subhuman lifeforms,
Agents of Amon roam the earth.
Near me they come.
Test me they do.
Oppress me..however..never..they will.