Best Toadies Poems
I have claimed to be apolitical but there are times
when the crop is ready for harvesting, so I put fuel
in the John Deere, ink in my pen and wrote...
He'll get millions of votes for that nicked ear
The vengeful narcissist people should fear
Picasso President
With malicious intent
He should be given the famous Bronx Cheer!
It looks like the graffiti on the wall
Four more years and America will fall
Trump will blow his own horn
Guilty of loving p.o.r.n.
And the rape of all the women he's mauled
There's another Trump, Junior's daughter, Kai
Brought a tear or two to dear grandpa's eye
It was her intention
During the convention
To convince people that he's a good guy
Melania was there but just for show
Since he paid off Stormy... well uh, you know
She has kept her distance
Abhors his existence
She can't be with him since he's had a ho
His Trumpeters may be humbled one day
Those who will vote for him and have their say
Those who are so headstrong
Thinking he's done no wrong
The beast who led America astray
He hasn't made the US great again
He's torn the nation apart... friend from friend
Time will tell the story
But there'll be no glory
Picasso President is no Godsend.
Trump toadies must be in a state of bliss
When his venom spews like a snake, hiss, hiss
They praise the dictator
The alienator
His villainy too baleful to dismiss
I've never liked saying, "I told you so"
But D J Trump is a jerk and a schmo
He's a divisor of men
When he's elected again
His tyranny will reign like a deathblow
I've read a few posts about Trump and yet
Not one comment did I write to upset
Another poet's view
I expect that from you
Without hostility or epithet
Don of Trivia Sir Floccinaucinihilipilification
Popped forty triangular antidepressants for annihilation
But Coagulable antibodies
Made his two Trypophobia toadies
To bounce the castle of Tuffrut in choreomaniac titillation
"50 Words for Poe: Shark"
The Shark’s name was Bruce
he liked to drive with his head
hanging out the car
mouth wrapped around a
Montecristo Dantes Cuban Cigar
They met in Wichita
Room 101 in the
Hotel Cicero
“Hey babe,” he said
“I know,” she said
“You wanna marry me and
you wouldn’t be dead for quids”
“Hey babe,” he kissed her forehead
“Yeah,” she said
“Let’s go to the Boat Shed”
They got out of bed
Lake Tahoe next
Bluey was waiting with Bugsy
in Las Vegas at the Flamingo
he'd be wearing Red for Siegal
free as a bird
Meanwhile,
She'd gone all Jonathan Livingston Seagull
In another world
Brisbane and Sydney were dead
...
She’d put a bullet to both of their heads
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
https://youtu.be/aSI-Wk00rVw
The Toadies – Possum Kingdom
“The devil will do anything for you to be comfortable in your ignorance.”
“If you opt for a safe life, you will never know what it's like to win.”
“The danger of venturing into uncharted waters is not nearly as dangerous as staying on shore, waiting for your boat to come in.”
https://youtu.be/tmSzRx9RYLk
Sinatra
1. SEAGULL
Jonathan Livingston Seagull
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jonathan_Livingston_Seagull
2. Jonathan Livingston Seagull/ebook
http://csermelyblog.tehetsegpont.hu/sites/default/files/angol%20sir%C3%A1ly.pdf
Everything changes; life rearranges
The way that, for years, things would be.
We go with the flow, for what we used to know
Is no longer the world we can see.
It isn’t just age, for when people engage
With each other, the way that they act
Seems more crude and imbued with a mean attitude
That is lacking in manners and tact.
Such negative views, like I read in the news,
Filters down from the leader in charge
And the toadies, like sheep, scared of making a peep,
Think their boot-licking helps them loom large.
While we wait and debate, all this free-floating hate
Forms a coating that makes us all numb.
Though I won’t be around, maybe hope will abound
In the years and elections to come.
Dangerous is presence of the feeling
called Power
The notorious fist that clenched the
sun
An abominable eye that bridled the
dark
The pride when blended with ego is
sour
And so dangerous is the presence of
the feeling called POWER
The gift of respect is wrapped with
fear
As the meagre mortal not accustom
to that touch
This simply classifies the Hut and
the tower
And so Dangerous is the presence of
the feeling called power!!
The dirt u dust beats the yellow
metal
Toadies besetting like the laughing
beasts
Affection denied, only lie left to
shower
And so Dangerous is the presence of
feeling called POWER
Listen to what the snake charmers say:
We be sulfuric scaly bellies,
flicking poisonous tongues on the telly
Idoly speak pure Orwellie —
Down is up ... famine be a feast sup
Tell money hungry fools they’re full of it,
when their ears drink
from our lung vault empty purse cup
Listen to what a snake charmer spray:
Me leprechaun lips
speak titan talk ... phat pocket swellie
I spit brass piss,
and call it golden rain,
on your lemming brain grey umbrellie
These cobra eyes
tell a little robbing hoodie lie
each bent cross day
Then me boast the Big Lie,
sell it at bottom feeder price ...
make dim blind mice pay
when they look the other way
Me cockatrice cries
fill your belly full of lies
Empty turtle shell truth
is the swastika soup
I love to pour in toilet bowl mouths
Hateful language is the milk poppy hex curse
that I sugar Cain bosom fed mules
from their piggy snout Balaam Iscariot birth
Us posh puff adders
love sending toadies on a hallucinogenic,
golden goose leap ...
Flying locust pestilent blind onto the dung pile
Pot belly boa roil bad luck ...
paper chase pillow tucked
Cannabis dreams sucked in by serpentine wile
We scaly belly anaconda roll sway
with a slithering smile ...
Giving foible fools a terrible tummy ache ...
tasting maggot foul, constipated lies
boiled cannibal style
Dangerous is presence of the feeling
called Power!!
The notorious fist that clenched the
sun
An abominable eye that bridled the
dark
The pride when blended with ego is
sour
And so dangerous is the presence of
the feeling called POWER
The gift of respect is wrapped with
fear
As the meagre mortal not accustom
to that touch
This simply classifies the Hut and
the tower
And so Dangerous is the presence of
the feeling called power!!
The dirt u dust beats the yellow
metal
Toadies besetting like the laughing
beasts
Affection denied, only lie left to
shower
And so Dangerous is the presence of
feeling called POWER
Those with time to the brink are on the irk.
Sincere toadies do not cast magic shirk.
People who have also been hugely hurt.
People tranced with the act of a flirt.
Firmly, it isn't the genial people who I denied.
They're apt as crucial as the things they hide.
This dreadful wrath has taken over my heart.
If I grasp them, chew the cud; my hair grows a dart.
You appreciate them, yet they overlook you.
It's tuff to fathom folks who love but fade too.
People who beget anguish and sadness.
People who say they care but flee in darkness.
I deplore slugging, furious, proud, and slander people.
People fear honesty; therefore, I sprawl the treacle.
Written: January 08, 2022
King-Size Bull Crap Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Charles Messina
.
On the cyber-stallion
of military might,
against the backdrop
of missiles, a fearsome sight,
Commander-in-Chief,
malevolently looming,
stares at charred corpses,
then gazes around, smirking.
There, the wounded crawl and drag
their dead through debris;
yonder, ashes of home
and heart, maimed memory.
The old, the children,
they may be blasted away
as burnt offerings
on the altar of peace, he'd say.
Hark the chanting of his
lackeys, dogs and toadies:
"Hail, the Commander-in-Chief,
brave champion of peace!"
That lion lionized by those
with envy and fear,
wish he were this drunk
lizard drowning in my beer !
.
Astride his cyber-stallion of hi-tech military might,
against the backdrop of missile silos, he's a fearsome sight,
the Commander-in-Chief, so huge, malevolently looming,
smirking at seared carcasses, grinning and preening
as the wounded crawl and drag their corpses through debris,
embers and ashes of home and heart, maimed memory;
the old, the children, if he says so, must be blasted away,
as bloody burnt offerings on the altar of peace, he'd say.
"Hail, the Commander-in-Chief! brave champion of peace!"
nervously chant his lackeys, clowns, toadies and cronies;
a power-dazed lion lionized by those trembling with fear,
how I wish, he were this drunk lizard drowning in my beer!
Plague of lies,
froggy croaks untrue
Swarm of flies
surround Capitol dungHills
Infectious hope buzz kill:
Leftover piles of shill legislative bills
that don’t do do right
There should be no nose mystery,
stink of deceit fills the land
Brown lip locust wings
avarice ride
on a grifter breeze
Devouring all of the green
Dissimulation policies of greed
be blowing
turd raspberries
in the wind
This puff pestilence is putrid exhalation X brand
There should be no Pinocchio mystery,
rotten Would of falsehood
burns lung pollute-y
Foul breath forestry smokescreen fills the land
Cursed sour ground sound
is coming in waves
Flood of maggot noise abound
Blanket of little white **** snow job
is toilet tissue swirling around
Coming down royal flush
depressingly hard
Pain threshold too low to withstand
There should nascent be ... nay, no nasal mystery —
Veracity murrain miry
is the excrement sand which fills the land
Hazardous Waste tax material
has been poll sewage,
cesspool sinking below
the average Joe Citizen cranial
Yes Land filled with lies,
do do have a most wretched smell
But[t] toadies ain’t pocket sorry enough
about how honesty died
Croc ballot tears, every four years, don’t vote eulogize
Yes minions
got such lice, dysentery lips
Their squirmy truth
is always diarrhea leaping DeLorean
Back to the feces Future
To a broken promise Land filled
with dumpster dregs
of nothing
but[t] frog skeletons
Amphibian vow voices croaking
those empty chest organs
Howl flickering full be their guts rotting!
Lying shamelessly on hallow divided ground,
naked telly truth
went into tooth decay hiding
Bellyaching dirt went spit turd belly up
As dem/‘publican Kermits would
Jiminy cricket say: “Dey(light) don’t need no
dark stinking proof”
Those midnight jumpers
love spit mooning tongue sticky shade
un’er a halitosis roof
In a land filled with rank vapors insincere,
ain’t no pig manure methane doubt,
you’ll be pathologically told:
Smoggy talk got put on hold,
while the contagious shouts thin out ...
Rows of zeroes didn’t magically disappear
Backdoor sound byte diarrhea hurls
Sticky tongue bowel overflow
Little green froggies say the Apollo man from Mars
ain’t gonna fighter plane land
in a nuclear day or so
Sphincter hole toilet bowl saliva swirls
got an oven baked brownie glow
Little kyrptonite toadies say the Venus-born superwoman
wanna lead Pilate the flyby band,
be a peace hawk sis bro’
Such lyrical lying done on a mythical scale ...
it reeks of,
you don’t wanna know
Lying kings and queens —
Roaring eagles of the blue sky
are on a soaring, white cloud predator prowl
Flying below the radar;
dropping constipated truth bombs,
which nay palm skin burn
with strategic flush, royal greed accuracy
Lying low bow silo, with uranium stealth arrows,
in the waste land dead zone
Noxious fear vapors on a vulture mushroom blow
Fiery serpent wing plume shadows
give more territory to own
Much lying done on a global kill scale ...
it reeks of death,
and you don’t wanna know that smell
Extinction level pyre inhale
W2 Three trust me,
you don’t ever wanna nostril feel
that rotting, bone ash exhale
Midst anger fester the fox's concerns
infecting every breathing room
with pique and plaint in brilliance painted
ensconced in virtue, truth untainted
Whilst swirls the mud, a sewer's worth
from which a sample oozes forth
to tempt the toadies of our times
who lip and tongue their fonts of rhyme
Unity's preached midst raw dissension
clarity abuts miscomprehension
Webbed lip toadies,
their tongues do do stink of lies
As they leapfrog from excrement places
that do do attract flies
Brown tongue toadies,
their sticky web of dysentery deceit
stinks of foul breath duplicity
For they do do double dip in
toilet ponds of diaphragm dishonesty
Croak manure truth be 100-proof landfill speech
Astride his cyber-stallion of awesome
hi-tech military might,
Against the backdrop of missile silos,
a fearsome sight,
The Commander-in-Chief, huge,
malevolently looming,
Smirks at the seared carcasses,
moves about, preening.
As the wounded crawl and drag
their corpses through debris,
Embers and ashes of home and
heart, maimed memory,
The old, the children, if he says
so, must be blasted away,
Mere bloody burnt offerings on
the altar of peace, he'd say.
"Hail, the Commander-in-Chief,
brave champion of peace!"
Nervously chant his lackeys,
goons, dogs and toadies,
A power-dazed lion so lionized
by the envious with fear,
How I wish he were this drunken
lizard drowning in my beer !