Best Vetted Poems
Enroling you a worm (cumbersome and)
hairy, you- scimitar of leaves
Knows the pain ,writhing pupae
Abandoned and convicted
Constricted hanging straightjacket
Squirming like a jackrabbit
Gagged nocturnally - blindfold humility
Rejected by those mocking moths
and jealously believing left the key
Both found our grace on bended knees
..left there dangling from a tree..
Unhinge now those spinakers of glory
Pretty - flaky- flinder
Streaked in splatters paint
Dust of the fairies
Gaze at me with criss-cross eyes
Innocent beauty oh ye butterfly
Spiny antennae, stretching out transmitters
Taking flight so easily
Flitting off with no goodbyes
To a newer afternoon over there
Dashing in the sun
Kneeding and gouging all those zinnias
Joy! Slurping up the nectar
Whisky! Tequila! Brandy and Champagne!
Swops them for a chorus of pansies
Dancing blooming flowers
Crazy blessed colours
Bouncing delight.- erratic in flight
Dodging in between the bees
O enchanted mystic butterfly
Only pausing for a while
Hold me in your spell
For you walked that crooked mile
Linger in this dream
So seldom comes to see
Just as you, my timepiece too
Is coiled in spring
A dustpuff within the wind
Specked all over pollen confetti
Envied now by every moth
Suicidal circle - one kamikaze candle
Seared and singed and slowly fried
Getting what theyre vetted for
But the sun his laughing in his sky
Beseeching all the yet to open flowers
Awake !Awake!
An angel is coming by
I stand like an inverted portrait on your wall
Bollixed Like a lost wallet in a mall
I remained Glued to you all day and night
Like a scabbard to the waist of a knight
Your inexplicable uniqueness got me riveted
And leaves me feeling complete like a script that has been vetted
The sun is full of envy of your brightness
Even Your shadow divulges your uprightness
Your smiles makes me feel like the clock has stopped ticking
And energetic like a baby in the womb that's kicking
You are the moon, I am the night
In my darkness hour, you are my light
#PoeticLord#
(c) June 2019
Tho’ the soft voice has an aristocratic tone,
the haughty attitude ain’t no street gutter different:
Being rude ... dropping shade
Dark keystroke mood,
shallow indigo indifference shown
Another bad online day made
Royal pain of a social media princess
giving good grief
With a sunny disposition staged
That same persona
is acting out in public again —
Digital tongue intoxicated by the viral fame
Drunken thoughts of superiority
are spilled on the laptop
As her mental runt rants spew more shame
But[t] always couched behind banal positivity,
trite emoji expressions
Mousy pooter loves to sphincter the blame
The same gaslight persona
is acting out in the public forum again —
Low heel clicks from lattice lips
Drama queen on a toilet spin,
gossip lovers say she has such a hater handle
Royal flush of a sent sewer clip
Petty web of inane intrigue
got much diva curiosity following her
A Twitter litter trail of trash-talking catnip
Different window dressing edit, peppermint vetted,
has the same bittersweet facade —
Hard candy hits from her gentle fingertips
They call me Mr. Quick Fix.
I’m everywhere, in every school.
Over 400,000 of me in classrooms across the country.
Yet there’s minimal data on my effectiveness.
For this reason, among others, some call me Mr. Quagmire.
Here I am, the “least qualified, lowest paid” providing the “bulk of instruction.”
On top of that, I am rarely supervised, barely trained, and minimally vetted
While at the same time considered the “first, primary, and…only support response” for the student .
My student’s father calls me Mr. Godsend.
Distrusting of the school staff, I am his child’s protector
From any negative judgement bestowed upon the child by peer or adult.
The direct pipeline of communication often goes through me,
Not the head teacher, who sometimes refers to me as Mr. Why Didn’t You Tell Us That Earlier?
Some even call me Mr. Anything. Or Mr. Wing-It.
One day I may work with small groups beyond my assigned student.
Other days I’m creating lesson plans with no oversight.
I try not to question these practices, or lack of policy and procedures with regards to my role.
Everyday is a bit of chaos, and I’m just trying to make it a doable day like everyone else,
Helping wherever I can, however I can.
That’s my job, right? Right?
Are there any nice ladies out there
Who'll take on a nice guy like me
I'm fully trained good with children
And flea free.
Loves dining walks in the park
And although I can be a handful
I do not bark.
I have been vetted
And love being petted
Everyone says awe when I enter a room
And poo! when I make a mess
Well I'm just a man
I confess.
I'm so loving and affectionate
And in need of a loving home
I'm so faithful
And will never roam.
I need a woman.open to offers. must be nice and have a yacht.please send picture of yacht.
Peter Dome.Copyright.2015.May.
You create them
You give birth to them
You nurture them
You raise them
All the while seeking to rearrange them
For you insist on always owning them
Kids are forever
Children are our saviour
Dynasties become prolonged
It is never best to have just one
Mirrors of one’s ambition
Apple of our critical eye
A mini me who is never contrary
A vessel to fill with my life plan
Someone to control till I die
Pride is king
The family name is nirvana
The façade of respectability must never crumble
All and sundry must toe the line
For the world must believe all in this household is fine
Be better
Be all we wish you to be
Attain heights we never grasped
Never let our ambition lapse
Caged and thus unable to be free
Longing for a faraway glimpse of liberty
Dying to show some level of individuality
A life on a road to eventual calamity
Secrets and hopes
Are encased deeply
In a psyche that aches gloomily
Insular and depressed
They contemplate university
They exist from day to day
Awaiting a long list of all they need to say
The dress sense must be perfect
Their manner never abrupt
Everything is done to give the family
A social step up
Grades must be exemplary
A career path must show economic sensibility
Friends must be vetted minutely
Who cares about your sanity
Do it all for our vanity
You can never grow up
We own you for life
Fly the nest and we follow
We are your bothersome shadow
Letting go is hard for us to do
When we made you
It was not only because we wanted you
Our future plans have always revolved around you
Smile and never let the world know
How dismally we have wrecked you
Those that must forever be
The centre of another’s world
Have a big responsibility
They are clones
And will always be second best
This vetted and fully fettered minute
has been supplied by Time-Ex
- Even before you know it, it's gone
This beautiful garden escape,
sponsored by the Next apple products
Ijuice - A refreshing way to swallow it and by
Isauce - When you want something more, solid
Itch relief made possible by Digital Massage
- Scratches for scratch
Your next haircut by Fleecing Shearers
- However you cut it, you're gonna be shorn
This bowel movement is by Prunedent Financial
- Your gut instinct is to let go
This synapse connection brought to you by,
Horizon Ideas - We're mindful of your thoughts
Your next ****** is sponsored by,
- The Carnal Company, - You want what's cuming
The next breath is provided by
Amalgamated Elemental - Suck it in!
Upcoming feature dream is made possible by
Perfection Pharmaceuticals
- Perfect chemicals for perfect dreamers
This religious experience is by
- Salvation Sisters
- Nobody wants to tell a sister no.
Your final expenditure by
- Indentured Demise Incorporated
- Attending to all your death-related needs - forever
Your life was brought to you by,
- Bio-Digital-Fiscal-Experiences-Feelings-Etc.
- All we want from you is - everything!
© Goode Guy 2013-07-23
In a darkened room
Where movement is
But heard or felt
Contact incidental
Sounds without shape
See only with our minds
In a darkened room
All are the same
Bodies without bias
Opinions vetted
Ideas exchanged
Between unseen sources
In a darkened room
All words equal
Perspectives void of prejudice
Paradigms erode
Race dismissed
We are but one
Let the conversation begin
In a darkened room
Oh...and hello
to you, some hours past, I
returned from counseling,
(hence this boy yent -
albeit beastie boy
figuratively basking
in fading afterglow)
great kickstarter session,
countless moments ago,
sans treatment plan,
she facilitated emotional airflow
i.e. Stephanie Dodds,
(sat straight as an arrow)
whereat this client purged, avow
hid lee, his psycho
logical reflux backflow
(Matthew Scott Harris) did crow
as said professionally trained
medicine woman actively listened,
(no doubt other male patients
similar to yours truly entertained
(alignment with see
thing hormonal concurrence,
where ego super vies iz
Id dee hot - hook line, and sinker
attributed to Sigmund Freud,
who sired, midwifed, and fathered
psychoanalytic theories)
sexual kindled fantasies,
viz being bedfellow
this soul, hood doth not bellow,
but keeps mum
(during my allotted time),
yet willingly shares
with utter strangers
intimate gal olive
hunt ting fantasy,
that doth beshadow
obviously no intent to breach
such prurient thoughts, bestow
foolscap upon mine noggin,
and most definitely blow
future appointments
with aesthetically pleasing
(tomb maa cryptic) bowwow
wing hot diggity
dog inner primate, perhaps,
and not surprisingly get brow
beaten, where dire
erect tor of facility
wilt hell me
"go take a hike to
penile solitary bungalow,"
where all manner of
libidinous desires wanna burrow
(where warren peace
can thrive hare and now),
on par with rabbit - burr reader,
which confinement would
not principally peter out
till dawning transgression vetted,
and avered final cockrow
trumpeted, norte - til last cornrow
reaped, hence unable
to thwart counterblow
permanently, doth nada
different she hate
lustful zeal from eye
dims sum – genital fateful dayglow,
thence high lee
grant ting deathblow
to testosterone laden satiety,
randy proclivity, and
concupiscent adoration from
combine nation of #endow
ments to ghost of - Grant
yule leases eyebrow
raising candy cane upon fallow
da weeder foreshadow
wing sowing field of poetically
wet dreams plying fecund,
feminine, and fertile ground
godaddy on his gangplow.
A real dilemma faces us, don't think it's going away
refugees, "not vetted ones", will soon be here to stay
They're coming to America, Obamas plan is firm
the thing to be concerned about? It's not about a germ
Could be an ISIS army, there is know way of knowing
Barack Obama pushes forth, his colors really showing
How many Little Children, how many of them Mothers
how many Men and Boys are there, how many ISIS Brothers?
If even only ten percent, are ISIS in disguise
Obama knows when you look up, you could see smoke filled skies
No need for you to worry, Courts are in his pocket
what could they possible sneak in here, a shoulder fired rocket?
The terrorists have been here long, much longer than you think
way before 911 attack, and no one knew (wink wink)
Now you'll have to watch your tone, no profiling at all
can't ask, inquire, background check, now we're against the wall
Something not look right to you? You best remain aware
keep watching those distractions, he meant to put them there
Surprise may come from all around, the gift, a Trojan Horse?
those fireworks aren't for July, they are meant for us of course.....
Public policies are program designs
with regenerative health and safety vetted practices,
rooted in evidence of resiliently positive outcomes
Usually supported by some form of evolving theory
and/or systematic teleological perspective
about why interventions may be rationally expected
to progress toward more constitutionally protected healing
than unethical harming,
and at what cost compared to alternative governing strategies.
Producing executive orders
that are primarily reactions against existing policies
and/or regulatory procedures
without evidence that these reversals of direction
will not be more harmful than healing to people
and/or plants
and/or planet
is not developing healthy
or democratic
public governance
It is, instead, dictating autocratic,
and often kleptocratic,
promulgation of upper-caste preserving influence
without trauma-informed intent
to effectively respond
to mental and/or physical harm,
nor environmentally degenerative waste
risking thrival potential for future generations
Without any credible public service justification
for financial and neurosystemic trauma cost
intrinsic to reversing healthcare-informed direction,
specifically in comparison to extant legislated policies
now being replaced by executive fiat.
To preserve public service distinctions
between aristocratic caste-conserving ideology
and democratic-caste Constitutional teleology
please do not confuse President Trump's degenerative procedural disorders,
derived from fear of inevitable failure
and contrived from anger-mongering,
with democratically progressive
constitutionally resonant "more perfect union"
development of Left+Right bicamerally responsive
caste-interdependent governance
Organic trauma informed
resonant health and wealth serving
best ecotherapeutic practice
of resiliently safe sacred Earth stewardship.
The welcome "Mat" is out again
Young Men of "Fighting Age"
Invited by our President
against Americas rage
How could he do this to our land?
he really has no pride
Arrogance, (he pounds his chest)
his next remark is snide
"We don't, turn away from those
that are really in despair
We bring them in, no matter what
and everything we share"
"Don't worry, they'll be Vetted
our system's in its prime
Background checks? They will be done
that's if, we find the time"
Verify their ID Status?
(like they did for Voting rights)
Once they're freely on our streets
You'll have trouble sleeping nights
Some day, you'll have to thank him
don't send a thank you card
His followers that worship him
may be, in your back yard.....
Doctors (particularly biomedical engineers)...
really trolley train hard to keep track of patients
Eye tell ya we (spuds)
pulled up stakes after four yar
and zero scores ago living in Bryn Mawr
salutary heart and lungs figurative
storied Main Line Health medical network
latter part of June tooth thousand seventeen
approximately July first
same year bidding au revoir
bid good riddance account
to slumlord - hood did spat and spar
moved to Schwenksville, Pennsylvania
unsafe to ride bicycle without handlebar
economical, geographical, practical...
subjected by Grosse and Quade tyrannical czar
dom low income facilities housing
nattering nabobs of nihilism whose intellect subpar
candidates vetted by Jaclyn Geiger registrar
courtesy nepotism unexceptional manager
thanks be to her papa, she drives fancy car
unlike this pauper and the missus
limited to schlep near and not far
afforded by rattletrap motorcar,
no driving prohibitive number of miles,
crossing sketchy territory warning signs
picturing dangerous avatar,
(especially during inclement whee thar)
determining risk to forego
top manic kin Michelin
money grubbing cannibalistic
surgeon's earning equivalent silver star,
or comparable civilian rating touting specialists
while bonafide topnotch indivisible tailors swifty
stitch ink, viz tattoo back parlor shop whar
exemplary Patients Matter Always
buzzfeeding, inoculating, kickstarting...
healthy medical network,
hobnob, kibitz, schmooze...
drown lackluster lovelife at the bar
parting paramour with such sweet sorrows par
for the course during pouring rain how bizarre
necessitated our lucky find locating physicians
supreme nsync with Google high reviews
receiving, scoring, nabbing,
incorporating... truevalue re: vector and scalar,
we veteran trooper seasoned renters
luckily blessed chance
cost us pennies on the dinar
general bang for buck amazingly
found yours truly strumming his air guitar
pleasantly situated among picturesque poplar
resort within Skippack Village, a tourist
mecca for devout or
secular gourmandizing, earning
catering and acquiescing savoir
ole mighty faire Benjamin
legally tendering expensive bazaar.
he sits and he stares he miows and he purrs he's mocking and making his plan
i'm ahead of his game my agendas the same a battle of cat versus man
as i sit and reminisce it wasn't always like this at first we had an unbreakable bond
but all was lost when i found to my cost him licking his lips by the pond
i fed him the best roast chicken breast turkey and ham on the bone
we dined as a pair our friendship was rare till the night that he dined alone
my one fatal error was to trust that feline terror a mistake i will never repeat
if only i'd netted if only i'd vetted and removed the claws from his feet
if only they had dived when that feline felon arrived my garden would still bring me joy
the moral to this story so morbid and gory my carp should have been more coy
Terrible Trump or Trump the Crook
Answers to questions asked were a contrast
Which we always would like to lambaste
Reasons for answers we presented in disguise
Knowing they had been to each other's surprise.
Found it exceptionally, extremely hard to wait
For next time we again had decided to debate
Over whose answers were greatest and best
So we ended up deciding to have a contest.
Were no correct answers to questions I asked
Or any way to successfully complete the task
No matter how hard we ever tried and tried
For President knew Trump was most qualified.
Never thought at all or been born with open mind
When we eventually discovered his was designed
For someone wanting to be a unsuccessful President
Can you believe Trump to America God had sent.
Not only that his brain appeared to be scattered
When singing low tune windows were shattered
In White House why should we want Trump be there
We would discover that his presence was hard to bare.
This is why whole world and us now regretted
Trump and his brain not being properly vetted
Then on disquietly case had to close the book
Knowing Trump was a fraud as well as a crook.
James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet