Best Sufferable Poems
“Nobody likes a clown at midnight.” Stephen King
CLOWN AT THE ABYSS
Darkroom abscessed
with neon blush and black-blood —
sunken eyes look surprised
to find oneself in a dank dungeon.
Fecal stench, not humorous,
screams on each bold painted-on face.
“Are we dead?”
“When did I die?”
“I didn’t want to take along this honking nose! It never quits!”
“These humongous shoes, like flippers, so cold they grip!”
The clowns, their smiles and frowns,
continue to gripe in the big tent abyss.
The epic fail of their lives an applause
from the demons who have them in grip.
Like fools, they suppose, they can feel their way out.
They march in one straight line with clanging chains,
chortling, “Heigh Ho! Heigh Ho! It’s off to work I go!”*
You see, they can’t help being funny - never could.
So on they march clinging to claustrophobic walls.
Yet they, one by one, begin to notice no floor exists.
Squalid birds, their chains rattle and roll,
with cheap jokes that never cease.
“Take my wife…please.”
Rings through the air. The demons cackle and boo
their despair, occasionally deflating the roof of the tent
on their heads - it sticks to their gooey faces, causing
them to run out of hot air, go limp, confine their space
even more - no audience to exploit. When the roof rises
each one finds water caterwauled at their faces, then
strapped to a chair as sufferable makeup - acidophil -
leaks behind their eyes, into their pores, maliciously.
Clown at the abyss digs his nails into the soil, climbing
a mountain of ill will, always failing...falling, and then
the jokes hammer again...over and over, head over heels.
...head over heels,
with no end…
2/27/2020
Clown at the Abyss Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann
*Disney’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs
I must allow..I am deeply impacted by the demenour, the
Character" of Ink Empress." my expression i feel must be
Expressed.' Or I would view myself.' As a most uncouth
Inversion..' Of appreciation.? And of magnanimity..I would be without redress.'
The most un-sufferable of fools' should I not make note of her calm
And balance.' With great empathy.' Even much sincerity; she is
An epitome of the ' oft overused term' in how to be cool.'
I waited too long
to mow my lawn
biopsy my lung
yet lived long enough, anon,
however long is long.
Whatever. It's not wrong
to count along
while busy living. Sing
and stay strong
absorb the sun's photons
and store them in your bones.
Those bones
outlast slights and spurns
are white as lightning and strong
as sticks and stones.
Inside is one's
spirit, soul, the nameless one
the one that's never known.
It has no cell phone
can't communicate or even moan.
Therefore. Why complain?
Have some fun.
Soon
I'll be undone
underground
my garden burned down.
So what. John Donne
died and so did Milton.
Emerson too, and Whitman.
Get over it. Vote. Love. When
the train comes in the station
whistle with it, wish on
stars with passion
or careful hesitation.
Anything's fine, within reason.
Season by season
things get done.
Algebra and calculus, Malcolm X, George Washington.
No taxation
without representation.
A gun
in every den.
People will be governed
one way or another, by a king
or trusted friend. Corporation.
Men
are more disposed to suffer, while Evils are sufferable, than
to right themselves by abolishing the Evils to which they are resigned.
I'm too young
to die! I cry. My generation
cannot outrun the sun
but I want to see what happens
next, a tsunami or tornado, rain
and wind beyond our comprehension
hit in the head by speeding debris, irony
of ironies! plastic contraptions,
rotting computers and yogurt cups, pain
in the baby! Moment's
notice. None,
I notice, live long
enough to see the end. Amen. A million
years hence
human sense
has so modified and mutated under
other moons
we share one mind
and everything's remembered by everyone.
Look it up. There is no death, just perfect rest. A perfect tan
is possible, and work is fun.
I'm going there when I pass on
because souls will travel at warp speeds, using nuclear fission.
About suffering, religion
was right (and wrong) all along.
Avarice
To sit at the right hand of God,
See the Angels read from evil lists,
The great whore of Babylon, aint happy,
she has the greed of the Devils mist,
money was made in the mines were,
a greedy un sufferable ditch,
not enough to be worth many millions,
cheap labor, she sure has the itch,
an eye for an eye says Jehova,
Somalia, her tent there to pitch,
And hungrier still when it’s over,
When Karma puts in her next stitch
The wealth of the earth comes to nothing,
And you leave just as poor as you came,
And nastiness sticks in your craw now,
Old stupid she played the greed game:}
Don Johnson
I can almost hear the faint call of your name.
Seducing me with just a photographic memory.
Fortunately, I have lost this wretched game.
Deep inside my soul I can feel your words caressing
each vein. My blood boils, the heat intensifies.
Oh, but I mustn’t forget your mouth’s defiance.
I can almost feel the pain with the call of thy name.
Torturing the timber of my ear drum.
However, my longing demands you just the same.
Weep, I devour my dignity and continue harassing
my pain. My heart accelerates and with each beat dies.
Oh, but I must stay alive and be filled with radiance.
I can sense it now, the damned call of thine name.
Persecuting me for the fallen of vague love.
Miraculously, my body now renovates remaining tame.
Today, tomorrow, and forever; farewell, sufferable name.
Suffocation experienced analogous
to absent echocardiogram
or electroencephalogram blip
(Derek Chauvin - he of
George Floyd infamy) iron maiden grip
linkedin with psyche subjected
to laceration courtesy cruel horse whip
mine inexcusable
(albeit clueless faux pas)
family members living social in Bend, Oregon
and Oakland, California did yip
private information across cyberspace did zip.
Apology (ex post facto)
extended regarding about
mine guilt ridden conscience
programming mental state
think sufferable infinite
jesting Möbius strip
casting dark shadow of doubt
looping along outer limits
of twilight zone
futilely shucking off
emotional tailspin (kamikaze) fallout
impossible mission
unable to muzzle or thwart lout
who poetically blurts out
simian old routine programmed
erroneously heavily incorrectly
peppers entire Hollerith
or IBM punched cards
yielding botched defenseless redoubt,
when Yankee doodles dandy
teapot short and stout
convection currents trigger
whistle Dixie when liquid piping hot
a microcosm concerning plate tectonics
across webbed wide world
yielding necessary oomph
to migrating trout.
Absent awareness
flourished amidst ignorance
sixty plus shades of gray matter
hotly doth smolder and burn
unbeknownst rancor did furiously churn
when yours truly divulged
he made aborted attempt
to couch his genuine
paternal care and concern
lack of discrimination
and judgment I did not
(honest to dog) recognize nor discern.
Understandable blameworthy
grievance against me,
not granted app parent permission
thus culpability I obediently yield
words that sparked hurt
now utilized to wield
heft to communicate authentic love
(cryptically coded)
and hermetically sealed
hopefully in due time
mine discretion well healed.
There are not many places
where I haven't been
Few cities or countries
I wasn't once in
And you'll likely find
that I'm hardly at home
I'll cite some examples
of areas I roam
I have been in Adequate
too many times
In Sufferable as well
but at least this line rhymes
Spent many an hour
in Competent too
And once I was even
in Love with you
My friends have been packing
this whole week I see
But alas, when they move
in Visible I'll be
But you'll never find me,
dear friend, in Trusive
And I'll always steer clear
of being in Clusive
In Decent I've been
and a few times in Ept
but it was in Considerate
where most soundly I've slept
I'm often in Dulgent
was never in Bred
In Ebriated I've stayed
spinning 'round in my bed
I was once in Decisive
perhaps it was twice
I think I've lost count
but the place wasn't nice
And I could continue
but I've got a date
in Sanity waiting
and I mustn't be late
© Mike Wise
11-28-23