Best Thrusted Poems
"OMLET"
or
"The Taming Of A Screwball"
cast of characters:
Julius Caesar
A Roman Teenaged Kid
A Roman Guard
Brutus
A bunch of Caesars Girlfriends
A bunch of Roman Senators
Julius picked up the violin and looked at the
kid. ""Et playdimus youdimus?"" he asked.
"Nonimus!" replied the kid. "Cousinimus Nero
playsimus."
"Ahhhh," sighed Julius. "Prodigimus bratimus."
Suddenly a guard ran in, waving his sword and
shouting, "Mightymus Ceasermus! Brutumus et comingus!"
Just then Brutus comes in, followed by a bunch
of drunk senators. All of Caesars girl friends
run offstage screaming in terror.
"Ahhhh--Friendimus Brutumus..."" Julius said,
putting his arm around Brutus' shoulder.
Brutus took out a dagger and promptly
thrusted it up Caesars bellybutton.
"Ahhhhhhh--Brutumus!"" Caesar repeated.
"Youdimus screwdimus meedimus."
curtain
(applause)
Perfection's never something,
You can capture oh so well.
But her beauty burned like gazing,
At the fires that burn in Hell.
And people they would beg of her,
"Let me capture you in photograph."
But with beauty that was so obscure,
She'd always turn and laugh.
She woke up every morning,
But this was a different one.
Called an artist that was yearning,
"We can do this just for fun."
She stained her lips with rose.
Painted her cheeks in the fairest rouge.
Slipped ballet flats upon her toes.
And in her sundress she found refuge.
The amateur had no say,
She had planned the perfect spot.
She whispered, "I'll lead the way."
A small price to pay to get the perfect shot.
Her movements were so delicate,
It's as if they were devised.
She used a subtle hand wave to indicate,
That they had finally arrived.
You would think you'd see a castle,
Or maybe a field of green.
But this enviroment was quite the hassle,
Maybe her sense of taste wasn't keen.
She thrusted weeds away,
Steering clear of twigs and rocks.
The warm wind made her sundress sway,
And softly tousled her gold locks.
Upon a bridge she advanced,
The planks began to creak.
The water below her danced,
And sunset began to peak.
She lifted her legs with elegance,
And supported herself with a beam.
The photographer shuttered in benevolence,
But followed along with this dangerous scheme.
It's as if the camera was under a spell;
As beneath the bridge, waves violentally lashed.
She threw her arms out and willingly fell,
As the light grew bright and flashed.
The tides pulled tight around her.
They made her twirl and spin.
And the camera man swore,
she smiled as they tugged her in.
Perfection's not that fluent.
Not something you can capture oh so well.
But now we have a picture here to prove it,
As the waves dragged her to Hell.
.
She was only five and this is what
happened when she was alive
Ser dad was a drunk her mom was an addict
They always kept her locked up in the attic
Her only friend was a toy bear
and it was old and worn with patches of hair
She always talked to it when nobody was around
she layed there and hugged it with not a peep of sound
Until her parents unlocked the door
some more pain she'll have to endore
Bruise on her leg scare on her face
why would she have to be in such a horrible place
She grabs her bear and softly cries
she loves her parents but they want her to die
She sits in the corner quiet but thinking
god why is my life always sinking
Such a bad life for a sad little kid
she got beaten and beaten for anything she did
And then one night her mom came home high
and she got beaten as the hours went by
Then her mom suddenly grabbed for a blade
it was sharp and pointy the one that she made
She thrusted the blade right in her chest
you deserve to die you worthless little pest
The mom walked out leaving the girl slowly dieing
she grabbed hey bear and again started crying
The police showed up at the small little house
and quickly barged in everything quiet as a mouse
One officer slowly opened a door
to find the little girl lieing on the floor
It must have been hard to go thourgh so much harm
but at least she died with her best friend in her arms
A child dies every day from child abuse and if you have an ounce of pity in your
heart for little auorura and you hate child abuse do something about it and let
them know that someone cares about them
It's Easter let me praise his name first,
For he was burried in a tomb of stone and dust,
But on the third day He came to life atlast,
The angel rolled the stone; it didn't burst.
He was the only son of God,
He rode on a colt not a pod,
A spear was thrusted on His bod,
And His body was beset on shame by a horde.
He was crucified for our sins,
That's why we must praise Him with every means,
Preaching His Gospel from Cairo to Orleans,
Because it is on His scars our faith leans.
Dear Mrs Chan,
Thank you for all the things
You’ve clearly explained and shown
And even more for all that
You left me to find out on my own.
Thank you, when I pestered for an answer,
For standing your ground and holding firm –
I know you want me to explore
Because that’s the only way I’ll really learn.
Thank you for exposing me
To the subtleties of the English language
Certain connotations, small differences in meaning,
Always looking for the precise word, the precise usage.
Thank you for encouraging me
To abandon the cowardly-conventional view
To look for something
I believe in, something new.
Thank you for all the sour, unapproving frowns
You shot, threw, thrusted and sent my way
They worked wonders
To keep my illogical misconceptions at bay.
Thank you for your aptly-set standards –
A challenging but never impossibly-high wall.
You make me love a good challenge
You make me want to give my all.
Thank you for lighting up the bulbs
In my stupid little mind
When I didn’t get it, you connected the neurons manually
And occasionally unwind.
Thank you for all that you’ve done
You make History lessons so much fun.
Thank you, Mrs Chan! You’re the BEST!
In the thickets of the forests and grooves
On the paths through the deserts and the wild
Walked in the robe of nobility
The one who defied the wind and tidal wave
Who throned on a mighty white horse
Decked in regalia of a consummate conqueror
A blue-blooded woman that ascended a throne
In the reign of men, under a the glare of a proud race
Her power and dominion beyond the great Elizabeth
Her rule grim and firm than Margaret Thatcher’s
The wind and wave did her bidding at battlefronts
She was ruthless and wise in governance
Her sword thrusted to the sand blood and hearts of men at war
Bent on conquest she knew no defeat
Bu spoils, plunders of warriors, kings and horses
She held court over men of wisdom and age
She dispensed justice with dispassion
She rode home in triumphant sound of trumpets
To the waiting arms of loyal subjects and servants
In the days when women stood in full heights.
"OMLET"
or
"The Taming Of A Screwball"
(Or: Rules Are Written By Idiots, Followed by Fools)
by Ron Arbuthnot
cast of characters:
Julius Caesar
A Roman Teenaged Kid
A Roman Guard
Brutus
A bunch of Caesars Girlfriends
A bunch of Roman Senators
Julius picked up the violin and looked at the
kid. ""Et playdimus youdimus?"" he asked.
"Nonimus!" replied the kid. "Cousinimus Nero
playsimus."
"Ahhhh," sighed Julius. "Prodigimus bratimus."
Suddenly a guard ran in, waving his sword and
shouting, "Mightymus Ceasermus! Brutumus et comingus!"
Just then Brutus comes in, followed by a bunch
of drunk senators. All of Caesars girl friends
run offstage screaming in terror.
"Ahhhh--Friendimus Brutumus..."" Julius said,
putting his arm around Brutus' shoulder.
Brutus took out a dagger and promptly
thrusted it up Caesars bellybutton.
"Ahhhhhhh--Brutumus!"" Caesar repeated.
"Youdimus screwdimus meedimus."
curtain
(applause)
© ron arbuthnot aka ron wilson
She looked shyly at him from behind her menu
His eyes were a baby blue that sent chills
Through her whole body; she could melt right here
And have that waitress he’s talking to mop her up
Typical Barbie doll type with an pretentiously
Effervescent personality that makes you want to
Roll your eyes and scoff--The environment they
Were in was a hustle and bustle type of place
Where time waits for no man...as soon as people
Were done eating, they were cleared out and
Another party was ushered in
“It is essential to business that you eat,
Order and then leave.” The Barbie Doll waitress’
Nasal twang only served as a catalyst for
Her frustration--She kept peering over her
Menu at the Adonis that kept her enraptured
“Well Honey, what’s it gonna be?”
Barbie’s voice oozed of impatience
Not taking her eyes off The Gorgeous One,
She replied softly, “I need more time.”
Barbie’s demeanor escalated from
Impatience to hysterical--“More time!
Honey, you gotta order, or you gotta go!”
As the hand went to the waist
And the hip thrusted out.
Now she had enough of this witch and her
Attitude---Why couldn’t she just go somewhere
Nice to eat and be able to enjoy the view?
“No, I don’t gotta go---You do! She exclaimed
As she stood up, knocking her bag to the floor;
Menu flailing back and forth
You are SO nasty, why would I want to eat
Here? You probably SPIT in the food!”
The waitress stood back, aghast
What evolved next was most of the patrons
Getting up and leaving; unpaid checks and
Half-eaten plates the fallout of this outburst
The owner, who tried to assure people there was
No saliva in the food, bellowed for the waitress
To get into his office while the rest of the staff
Scurried around trying to recover from the
Losses they incurred
As she took a deep breath, picked up her
Bag and her dignity, The Gorgeous One
Came from behind, put his arm around her
And smiled
“That was the greatest thing I ever saw,
He said as his eyes shone intensely on her
What’s your number?” And she felt like a
Rocket flying to the Moon
Elation to go.........with a side order of
Breathless
Thrusted onto a stage preset.
You look around,
Encompassed by an audience that seem to surround.
A susurration of voices erupt from the darkness.
Whispers of eclectic emotion -
A scene so sharp, so vivid, so real,
It cuts deep.
Leaving a scar that shall last an eternity.
The lights are on you.
You are expected to preform,
Conform to the human norm,
But you are so much more than that!
The audience looks to you,
“It is time to read your lines,” they say.
You look to them, script held high and before your eyes
You rip what is known to be the fabric of time.
A gasp ripples from the crowd,
Silence,
And then a standing ovation.
Compared to a snake that slithers and slides,
A tongue with a fork, he hisses and hides.
He's patiently waiting, he envies our death.
A mind fueled by sloth, and wrath on his breath.
He traps using snares, with sin as a curse.
He's evil and sly, his charm is rehearsed.
We're tempted by lust, gluttony and greed.
These actions are food, he needs it to feed.
Preventing the peace, his mission is clear.
To cause us all pain, our joy is his fear.
He covets our souls, to pride his command.
To enflame our hate, and rule as he planned.
He's tortured and burning in fires below,
A place for the wicked, a place without snow.
Deciphered as Lucifer, an angel that fell.
Only Gods' chosen people, the righteous prevail.
Prayer through kindness, and loving with care.
Shining swords of the saints, thrusted up in the air.
- Yours Truly
"OMLET"
or
"The Taming Of A Screwball"
cast of characters:
Julius Caesar
A Roman Teenaged Kid
A Roman Guard
Brutus
A bunch of Caesars Girlfriends
A bunch of Roman Senators
Julius picked up the violin and looked at the
kid. ""Et playdimus youdimus?"" he asked.
"Nonimus!" replied the kid. "Cousinimus Nero
playsimus."
"Ahhhh," sighed Julius. "Prodigimus bratimus."
Suddenly a guard ran in, waving his sword and
shouting, "Mightymus Ceasermus! Brutumus et comingus!"
Just then Brutus comes in, followed by a bunch
of drunk senators. All of Caesars girl friends
run offstage screaming in terror.
"Ahhhh--Friendimus Brutumus..."" Julius said,
putting his arm around Brutus' shoulder.
Brutus took out a dagger and promptly
thrusted it up Caesars bellybutton.
"Ahhhhhhh--Brutumus!"" Caesar repeated.
"Youdimus screwdimus meedimus."
curtain
(applause)
© Ron Wilson
On His Final Journey
Drifting ruminations freely wander
amid vanishing rays of Sun Ra
Thrusted beyond constraining clouds
probing the enigmatic moon
Hoping like incessantly undulating liquid
from a surging waterfall
Inner eye unveils the essence of a man
who for eons remained silent
Resembling his distinct familiar face
from a distance stood her true love
Parting muted lips a smile illuminates
the darkest stars in heaven
Arms outstretched as his tears well
eager to amend a fractured heart
Conceding defeat to forsaken wishes
he ascended beyond a cloud
A woman impassioned craves
the homecoming of this precious entity
She must repudiate wretched emotions
he has embarked on his Final Journey
Heralded by a harbinger of doom
destiny upholds this disheartening truth
Expectation conjures delusion
deceiving her vision invoking salvation
11/22/2017
11:32 p.m.
West Palm Beach
Florida USA
Face framed ornate, or curl corner blu tacked up
Childhood fanciful daring must softly be contained
Dispicable hovers inside cherub cheeked adorable
Challenge for enamoured to create correct shape
Administer discipline with compassion entangled
Potential beckons infant innately curious
Toddler discovery meshed with messiness
Woven with wonderment routine can't limit
Succumbed mother disowns justifiable furious
Besotted witness, sure estate for mischief
Nudging daughters towards beings approved
Beyond old rigidity, modern option multiples
Youth spoken forums we're foreigners to
Images of genuine and fake indiscernible
Listened to lunacy delivers messages askew
Duty to daughters reflect our similarity
Penciled declarations stuck to fridge
Devotedness focussed on child precious
Inflated effort, parents' universal currency
Whether meagre expenditure, or excess
Snippets of your prosper are written in me
Lawyer loads clothes into washing machine
Submerged both classes in a world severe
Puppets of striving in fast passed society
Consumer boom boldly commandeered
Disparity reveals parental symmetry amazing
Faithfully accommodating girls' shifting needs
Working mothers, each of us 'unaccompanied'
Various sized resources serve child raising
Sacrifice made by dedicated souls equally
Providing guidance, friendship gripes quieten
Line of latitude curved by desire to control
Old school wisdom bolsters brains susceptible
Dramatised screen infused new century children
Content quickly spirals into unacceptable
Desperately hoping, we Mother soldiers
Shield children from future provocation
Hold fort, nest feathered dedication
Thrusted comfort, reluctant scolders
Admist mixed rails, reliable station
Within swayed pre teen trajectory
Sturdy parenting depots journey
Home stands firm from outside duress
Finances overshadowed by reliability
Partnered peers approve sole success
17th July 2020
Pondering in sloth riddled exile, Stained by resolute pixel batter
Mutilated by idea’s negligent dirty mudded and infested bath-water
Sharing the extreme imagination contrast reality.
Panic thrusted full pelt entrusted.
Money feeds such little it cares
Freelance breed suffering servant indeed.
The ubiquitous sleeve hidden and deceived
Laughing smiles teeth that gleam
Sweaty handshakes left unfilled and malice built
A practitioner of harmful concept
A leveller of nature’s milk.
We stand prepared for battle, our pikes thrusted toward the gullets of our adversaries.
Hastily we aim to strike down all we oppose.
Our nemeses match us with a fervor that scorches redder than our own flames of rage.
They perceive us a threat to their very ethos.
Slashing of skin underscored by the glitters discharged from steel upon steel exchanges.
Bodies amass as the carmine blanket flows.
Screeching shrieks heard as each soul withdraws from a once confident swain lay slain.
Mighty steed hooves surge the earthy dough.
All shall be gained or gone astray; for no more shall join the savagery of such hostilities.
Victory will govern the fortune of pitiable foes.
Alas, the moment granted by a lamentable contender that punctured my golden cuirass.
My fortune is not to see what will to follow.