Best Targeting Poems
If I told you, Donald, my love was true
Would you dance for me, glad to be my boo?
Or give a mean retort
Making a piggish snort
No Valentine's kisses from me to you
Melania is getting done with Trump
All he cares about is his nasty rump
The Epstein files don't lie
Knows he's guilty as pie
When his term ends, he'll be sent to the dump
If he tells me, I never wear a smile
It's because I think he's a pedophile
Ungodly as a papist
And a guilty rapist
Who knows what else is in the Epstein file
King Donald Trump thought Greenland he’d steal
Used threatening blunder in his spiel
This Valentines Day
Thought he’d have his way
Greenland said, “Up yours, Donald. No deal!”
Don Trumpty is totally impotent
He can't get it up for any event
It remains very slack
Can’t perform in the sack
On Viagra his bucks have all been spent!
Donald J. Trump held a Valentine's Ball
The world's dregs... he has invited them all
There was Kim Jong and Putin
Khamani and Rasputin
His ego boosted, he felt ten foot tall
No roses to give from the rose garden
He paved it with a black heart that's hardened
Installed gauche golden bling
and destroyed the East Wing
Criminals and crooks, he's given pardon
Melania said that they’d never part
And told him she loved him with all her heart
She held his waist tight
Squeezed with all her might
Poor Donald gasped and let out a fart
The President is standing in the buff
Posing nude and trying to strut his stuff
I guess he supposes
Wife wants sex not roses
But sadly, his old todger is too duff
Donald forgot it was Valentine's Day
Was too busy with targeting his prey
By grabby their tushy
His bare hands, so pushy
All the red roses sold out anyway
The FLOTUS put Donald in his place
In the bedroom he can’t touch first base
Cos he bedded Stormy D
Then Epstein files, oh dear me
The POTUS has got egg on his face
I'd be his Valentine if he'd hold still
Long enough for me to give him a pill
that would put him to sleep
And freeze the nasty creep
Putting him in a cryogenic chill
Cupid's arrows missed their mark, A collaboration of thoughts by
Jan Allison, Tania Kitchin, Tom Cunningham and Lin Lane
For 15 years I have tolerated,
calculated, anticipated, sublimated workplace degradations, derisions,
subversions towards my character,
not today, no more,
yes, my pride has become livid, swollen like a bad bruise on the heart
and I apologize not for my self defense & righteous roil,
I will address you as the mean spirited scoundrels that you are,
no more 'boss - employee' boundry, just one human to another,
No fascade & title to prance behind, no longer above reproach from the lesser,
you are now entering the shock of the 'dead-fall' ,
buck you and your low wages, buck you and your perfect policies,
buck you and your work ethic 'mumbo jumbo',
buck you and the lame insults and false criticisms perpetrated
against my innocence and motivation,
buck you with your attempts to undermine my positive leadership,
buck you and your inconsistent hours
making a God damn yoyo out of me, buck you and your bonuses,
buck you and your preposterous training videos and ridiculous high school uniforms,
buck you and the belittling psychological questionniares connected to your applications,
buck you and your little managerial conclaves
which produce absurd machinations targeting the hourly employees
that make the place profitable,
wipe your cracks with your silly 'write ups' and legal circumspection bull-slit,
I am not your 'bro.' or 'buddy' , and I sure as shout am not your 'honey' ,
not today, not anymore
I will not allow you to treat me as a tool for your benefit,
I will no longer work faster so that you can save money & leave earlier,
you will no longer be permitted to laugh at me without redress,
you are now dealing with a Man, not just another employee number,
don't worry 'boss', I'll continue to work, I'm not gonna 'quit' ,
but I will not work for you, I am going to work with you,
today is a New Day -
J.A.B. Dedicated to all hard working Men and Women -
I whisper in Eve’s ear:
“Listen to the serpent.
He’s my friend and he’s wise.”
That way I get my revenge.
I hurried out of Eden
Roam all around
Targeting tender females.
“Stand up for your rights”.
Some understand me. Some do not.
My daughter Naamah who hates me!
Andras – Grand Marquis of Hell, discord and rage.
Empusa was a shape-shifting female demon in Greek legends,
Jezebeth was great. She knew.
So did Herodias and her evil daughter,
Oh, there are so many of them.
Can’t mention them all.
Until I was confined to a castle,
No doors to get out.
Just a window high up.
I admire myself,
Dark hair, dark eyes, Dark dress.
My lipstick made from
A serpent’s blood, dark red.
I admire myself
For a moment in eternity
I feel the fire inside me
Until
The mirror cracked from side to side.*
Can you hear a diabolic laughter?
Darn, it’s a fiery furnace around here.
Placed 2nd
The depth of my intensity is unfathomed and unknown
I mutter a million tongues in a million different tones
Unleashing my mind, I spew prolific poetry
Draw a wedge in your subconscious, like I’m parting the Red Sea.
I can speak into your mirror and distort your reflection
Rebuff the remnants of denial and rejection
I use dictionaries as pillows to absorb the definition
The creations of my mind fluently brought into fruition
Regurgitating rhythmical rhetorical reasoning
Metrically mingled in metaphorical meaning
I launch lyrics like missile’s launch rockets
Targeting your soundness i devour your logic
my thoughts slash deeper than even the third eye can see
Double edged sword, assured to bring you to your knees
Shake your composure like the clashing of clouds
Words once whispered, are now boisterous and loud
Ink embedded with Solomon’s wisdom, David anointed my pen
Possessed with spirits of the most high, stirring within.
I resurrected my resilience and recaptured my breath
These rhymes will live a thousand lives but never die a single death
Your projectile language,
Has shattered my porcelain soul.
The ballistics of your words,
Trace back to your beautiful performance.
An arsenal of lethal…language,
Spoken from the chamber of your heart.
Targeting my virgin emotions,
…Piercing my self-esteem,
……Ricocheting your madness in my life.
“I love you”…dissipates in your smoke of lies.
I can still taste the gunpowder residue,
Off the barrel of your moist perpetrating lips.
The evidence still remains at the scene of the crime.
Stained sheets keep…dirty hotel secrets,
My wounded spirit collapsed to the floor of my body,
As the echoes linger within my shattered soul.
The barren feed the barren
and empty hearts alike in manner seek
to satisfy a sadness, stuck deep
within the marrow of the meek.
They blame the cheerful and cast
them far beyond the realm of consciousness,
while targeting the joyful with sorrows
that would spoil true happiness.
Strength will master self-contempt,
reduce to ash the all-consuming flame
of ruinous self-interest and sow
the seeds of gladness once again.
Years have passed since i dreamt that night
Noises in my head, waking up to that sight
Overnight my city in desperate plight
Tragedies followed as the population began to fade
The strong wallowed, as the weak frayed
Mankind shown to be true, as their actions displayed
I found i was not alone, as others had escaped the curse
Their actions that i witnessed, man doing his worst
Abusing, taking advantage in their normal daily thirst
The ones who lost their eyes, never seen their end come
Even the deafened ones, never heard the sound of a gun
The muted ones just gaped, as they all tried to run
The fortunate ones had prayed, on the inflicted souls in strife
Targeting the weak, playing with their lives
The killings and the maiming in typical murderous rife
Eventually the fortunate, wanted more and more
They fought amongst themselves just like they did before
Everyday i look all around me, forever will i abhor
I walk our cities and towns, thinking what they used to be
The hustle and bustle of life, in the world of you and me
One day i will go to sleep, when i awake what will i see
The follow up too " It Will Happen Tomorrow "
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy-6.php
I saw tears in the sky
Before they fell
And made my eyes swell
Then, I wondered why
You would want me
To feel this way
When reason decays
I just can't see
The anguish like a fire inside
Is not extinguished without
Closure, while ignoring shouts
Hidden places, having to hide
Some things burn forever
Lest mourning tears that freeze
Ruled by the decrees
Targeting connections to sever
Heidi Sands
Placed 2nd in The Fire Inside Contest.
I am Nobody:
no name on my grave
in the Veterans’ Cemetery --
not even certain if all parts
match – those bombs really
had no personal objective when
targeting and dispatched –
Their bull’s eyes~ all Enemy.
I am Nobody; don’t earn
a lot, after your release from
the hospital, once healed,
you never met the EMT
who feverishly pumped life
into your failing lungs, during your
rushed, siren screaming journey
through unyielding traffic --
probably never thanked the nurse
in the ER, with a name-tag,
often gone unread – Oh, you met
the doctor, who earns all the big
bread – He has a noble title – he
has lauded fame – unlike Nobodies
more or less, diminutive
the same – just Nobody --
the Nobodies who build the bridges
repair the roads
pickup the garbage
often given little more mention
than prince-less pond toads –
when I croak, Just a slimy
soak – in society, most Nobodies
die broke – soggy, irrelevant
pond splashes –
Only rich when considering love...
Their ghastly buzzing’s in the air
targeting vegetation everywhere
They dive-bomb and guillotine
anything and everything green
Prodigious throngs of winged invaders
escaping from the ground
Moving in dark clouds of death
engulfing whatever’s around
They may be harmless for humanity
but the locusts’ noise drives us to insanity
Coming this May to my home state ~
though I’d prefer 17 more years to wait…
It's scary dangerous out there,
this world sure feels so unsafe
There's constant conflict, uprisings and strife
Got me beefing up home security,
increasing my life insurance annuity
Me even had to start extreme vetting my wife
It's uber hazardous out there,
this country sure seems like a lawless place
There's constant violence, protests and soft ad targeting
Had to buy me a high-caliber gun,
added lots more cyber protection
Even started questioning the affiliations of close friends
It is what it is,
I'm learning to adapt
Be more wary, keep a watchful eye
My government needs me
to fill the intelligence gap
Guess you can call me a citizen spy
It's double red alert out there,
local communities with hidden enemies to trace
There's constant warfare of a multi-facet kind
Got bio, got religious
Got economic --- they're all insidious
I collected every conspiracy theory I could find
I'll be doing my part,
'cause threats are everywhere
Presume you're guilty in the blink of an eye
Just a patriot at heart,
will make you vanish into thin air
Unless you pledge to become a citizen spy
It is what it is,
you better learn to adapt
Become more skillful at knowing how to pry
Your government wants you,
so contact the authorities ASAP
Get recruited and become a good citizen spy
Yikes! Arrow targeting me
Cupid, please choose another
Scars from your last shot remain
Heart still bleeding red
*For Francine's "Red" Contest
The age-old dream is a nightmare,
that has haunted us far too long,
still it lures in so many souls
with the sweetness of its song.
But beyond the simple melody
a darkness quickly appears,
those who preach of utopia
are the ones we should most fear.
It all starts out pleasant enough,
they want to build the perfect world,
with peace, love, and prosperity,
for every single boy and girl.
But on what defines perfection,
the can never truly agree,
tell them it’s abstract idea,
and they scream out ‘heresy!’
Not that this will stop the push,
they’re convinced that they’re right,
and any who would oppose them,
are an evil and a blight.
First it’s campaigns to convince
that they hold the greatest truth,
then to the schools for targeting
the dumb, impressionable youth.
They think that this will do the job,
but too many reject and dismiss,
then comes all the social pressure,
go along or you’re not ‘with it.’
And when even that doesn’t prevail,
they always turn to government,
use law to force you to agree,
or face a long imprisonment.
This becomes the tipping point,
since government is always force,
yet convinced they’ll bring perfection,
they’ll do what was once abhorred.
Some penalties put you in camps,
doomed to a miserable fate,
no longer do you just ‘disagree,’
you’re now enemy of the state.
It does not take much to see this,
such an endless, brutal trend,
Hitler’s ‘perfect’ Aryan Reich
sent ten million to their end.
And all those workers ‘paradises,’
their purges and class enemies,
Sent a hundred million folk to death,
to build their ‘ideal’ societies.
Even down on the smaller scale,
the same result you will find,
Jamestown, Heaven’s Gate, and Waco;
where people were burned alive.
How many would still be with us,
how many fewer would be dead,
if we could take utopia
and drive it clear out of our heads?
In fact the very word itself,
if you look back on history,
literally translates as ‘no place,’
in the original Greek.
As in no place can ever exist
where mankind lives perfect,
Better is the best we can do
without leaving people wrecked.
Best we keep shouting this truth out
before we all tumble and fall,
We must fear, fear utopia,
or else it will kill us all.
HELLO, JOE.
Hello, God.
SORRY ABOUT THAT DEATH THING.
Yeah, I didn’t see that coming.
WELL, ACCIDENTS DO HAPPEN.
Apparently. I just wish I had time to tell the people that I love, that I love them.
YEAH, I HEAR THAT A LOT. YOU’D THINK PEOPLE WOULD START TO PICK UP ON THAT.
I guess they’re just stupid, like me.
I GUESS SO. SO?
So?
WHAT DO YOU THINK?
About what?
ABOUT BEING HERE WITH ME?
Nervous. I guess you know that I really didn’t believe in you.
YEAH, WELL I AM A HARD CONCEPT TO GET TO KNOW.
Not, for everyone.
OH, YES, FOR EVERYONE.
But, there are plenty of people who know you.
NOT REALLY. THEY ALL GET IT WRONG.
You mean none of the religions are targeting the right God?
NOPE. HUMANS HAVE AN AMAZING CAPACITY TO MAKE UP STORIES ABOUT THINGS THEY CANNOT UNDERSTAND. ONCE THEY START UNDERSTANDING SOME THINGS, THEIR STORIES ABOUT ME CHANGE A LOT. BUT, THEY ARE ALL STILL MADE UP. PEOPLE DO NOT AND SHOULD NOT HAVE THE CAPACITY TO REALLY KNOW ME – IT IS AN INCOMPREHENSIBLE CONCEPT FOR MAN. I WAS HOPING MAN WOULD CONCENTRATE ON DOING GOOD FOR ONE ANOTHER AND NOT FOR SOME MADE UP CONCEPT OF ME.
What about the Old Testament? New Testament? The Koran? The Book of Mormon? And, others I don’t even know about?
MADE UP, MADE UP, MADE UP, MADE UP AND MADE UP.
Huh. I guess it wasn’t so much the concept of you that I didn’t believe in; it was just the religious portrayal of you that I had a problem with.
I KNOW.
Yeah, I guess you would.
I GIVE MAN CREDIT, THOUGH, HE GOT A LOT ABOUT THE CONCEPTS OF GOOD AND EVIL RIGHT, HE JUST CLOAKED IT ALL IN MADE UP STORIES ABOUT ME.
I guess it helped lead a lot of people down the right path.
AND A LOT DOWN THE WRONG PATH, TOO.
Yeah.
YEAH.
Well, even though I didn’t believe, I still tried to do the right thing more times than not.
YEAH, I KNOW THAT, TOO.
Good. So, now what?
INDEED, NOW WHAT.
Round about nineteen 1971-2, yours truly bid adieu
to Henry Kline Boyer Elementary School
(situated at crossroads – then beau
colic rural routes of Evansburg Road and Ridge Pike), where nary a clue
prevails today of such pristine farm country due
to undergo radical urbanization during my boyhood edu
cay ting this sensitive kid asper flora and fauna drastically became few,
but primary aim of poem intent to focus
on grievous sobbing from lifelike goo goo
doll (cries and whispers ken still be heard within beef jerky
ladder day grown man body electric) hoo
vividly recollects scathing stabbing, torquing twerking,
survey monkey wrenching “IDO
NOT WANT TO BE ALIVE” reaction from manifold factors,
which exponentially increased goy tar attacks
targeting thine mideastern suffer tick Jew
such baiting (though nary a hint
how mean neighborhood kids gleaned this information),
since not one kewpie doll,
nor telltale Star of David dead giveaway, no one knew
such sacred symbols never adorned, deployed gripped ourselves,
(Unitarians encompassed family of origin), which credo Matthew
best describes as a hodgepodge, pastiche, ragbag, et cetera of pew
pills amassed from a gamut of disparate Parochial spew
wing litany trouncing as heresy
any diametrically opposed sanctified religious treatises
secular regents questioned plants seeds of white lily
germinating, sprouting and teasing out through
logical, oratorical, rational invocations such a heretical view
which synoptic backstory of mine, now allows,
enables and provides an opportunity for you
to read what I intended to be main essence
of this notion communicated
from one to another primate within the human zoo.