Best Vilest Poems
A tent of brightly coloured wool
Along an effervescent pool
Filled with deliciously cool streams
This would last a week and I would surely weep
For in my sorrows, I made haste
Beneath a bleak sky adorned with clouds of thought
Menacing a downpour of grief
I left the bosom of my camp
And could not recall my steps
The fierce winds of the desert deleted my trail
As the winds of time would delete my memory from all that ever beheld me
The clouds of thought once again embraced my mind and etched on the bleak skies a certain name
A name sweeter than sweetness itself
With a velvety texture surpassing that of silk
A name that transcended the barren plains dancing around on the tongues of angels
And stretched to the bitter and sweet seas
It is a name unlike which any man has ever beheld
For though many share it
None could wear it with her grace, borne of the musk of paradise itself
A name that evokes images of beautiful pearls
One that sends shivers down my spine
When I envision her delicate visage
A name that spreads warmth from the core of my soul
Which slowly percolates through my being to the tip of my nose
This name can only be the perfectly sculpted form of -????? whose true beauty transcends that of meaningless words
A mellifluous name when uttered in any tone
It shimmers and shines and radiates brilliantly
Even upon the twisted tongue of the vilest crone
I remember the day when the winds of authority blew on our firm grasp
And whisked her away on the cursed back of an evil black horse
And it is with this heaviness that I thus sink
Into a pitiless lake of anguish
Categories:
vilest, allusion, arabic, beauty, deep,
Form:
Romanticism
To find the root of all evil,
One hasn't far to look.
It's not some shrouded mystery,
Concealed within a book.
The truth is right before your eyes,
It hasn't been concealed.
Eliminate the branches first,
And the root is revealed.
Let's look at money, first of all;
Could it be evil's source?
It makes us do the vilest things,
Without guilt or remorse.
More blood was spilled pursuing wealth,
Than any other goal.
And for the life money provides,
Some even sell their soul.
But if it were to be removed,
Along with earthly gain,
Erased from human history,
Evil would still remain.
The same is true of war and hate,
Of vanity and pride,
Of politics and religion,
And all things that divide.
Eliminate them, one by one,
And you will understand.
They're simply branches of the tree,
But they don't make it stand.
The root that gives life to them all,
Is right in front of you;
Sustained by every breath you take,
And everything you do.
It is the root of evil's tree,
The source of our Lord's tears,
Eliminate the human race,
And evil disappears.
So if you're looking for the root,
Can you accept what's true?
The answer is a damning one,
For evil's source...is you.
Categories:
vilest, life, philosophy, religionlife,
Form:
Rhyme
There are terms humanity uses, phrases words appear."
To communicate emotions, in aim of clarity, or to help
Verbally in communicating our anxiety, or sense of honour
Even anger, love or fear.' Some terms are formed generically.' Yet others are forged and planned.' To strike
At the spirit, heart and souls of 'right thinking women and
Man' the word ( elites ) is being used to describe indeed
The dregs..' its as dis-informative in the context and concept
Indeed its correction ' must get now on its legs' to
Highlight those of repulsive ways..Who glorify abuse who
Plan nightmares today.' Who facilitate urusry murder and
Greed, who co-opt and co-erce for the basest of needs who
To be validated are willing to do the vilest' the dirtiest things.)
Scum could do.' I find no word low enough.! No term that
Will match.' To the acts of these lunatics and the sick dreams they hatch.' (They call wicked for good) remember
My friend; (2020?) and just extrapolate' then and only things will
Get on the mend!
Categories:
vilest, abuse, anti bullying, character,
Form:
Rhyme
Black Cat hath the coldest green eyes of most hideous evil
Which chilleth my blood, causeth me the greatest upheaval;
Darkness doth pervade this creature’s most gruesome gaze
Giveth me unbridled terror, leaveth my soul in an utter haze;
Lucifer himself giveth this black demon animal its dark life
Only to bringeth me a terrifying malediction of most evil strife;
Black Cat with its visage and its promise of eternal damnation
Seeketh for me its vilest of intention and its darkest tarnation;
I prayeth then Lord God, saveth all my eternal spirit and soul
And delivereth them on All Hallows’ Eve most sound and whole!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, Schoeningen,
Germany (October 8, 2014) (Rhyme poetic format)
Categories:
vilest, allegory, dark, evil, fantasy,
Form:
Rhyme
’Twas the day after Christmas and all through our split-level
Were the signs and the debris of our Christmasy revel;
The tree and the lights that we’d erected with care
Lay now in heaps and in tangles, in complete disrepair.
Not an adult was stirring; we were all comatose
From our Christmas-day turkey and stuffing overdose.
Still asleep in our beds while the kids ran amok
With their new games and their dollies and their little toy trucks.
But throughout the house a dreadful sound was soon heard,
A sound that sickened the heart like the vilest curse word.
It arose from the basement and swelled, as upward it soared:
’Twas the cry of the offspring announcing, “We’re bored!”
Categories:
vilest, christmas, parody,
Form:
Rhyme
PLEASE READ PART 1 BEFORE READING BELOW
It was covered in black fur from its head to its toes
Its small eyes glimmered white like the sight of fresh snow
Razor, jagged teeth a quarter meter long
Its bite was considered to be bear trap strong
No lips, no ears, no nose on its face
Instead there were just holes, just a bunch of empty space.
The fingers and nails grew together as one
Sharper than blades which were forged by the sun
And it carried a sack, but in it were trolls
That would jump out to grab the tormented souls
The drawing of the souls was the vilest thing to see
They shrieked and moaned, then begged for mercy
But before this act the hearts were ripped out
And the trolls gobbled them up without a shadow of a doubt
But then a glare of its eye and a twitch of its head
The trolls jump back in the sack or they knew they’d be dead
And it shrieked the same five words as it left like when it came
A bellow from hell, you could say sounded the same
If you were to hear these words, you could put its reign to an end
So with its saw-like teeth, your tongue it rends.
And when it’s complete, with no time to stall
The demons dash away, Dash away, Dash away all!
It is said to come back every fifty-sixth year
On the night before Christmas like this time here
To repeat the bloodbath on a town such as this
Leaving them no time for one final wish
So sleep light on a night which is said to be merry
For you might receive a visit from the Massacre Fairy.
Please rate after reading both parts =0)
Categories:
vilest, death, science fictionnight, time,
Form:
Couplet
THE ULCERATED COLON
U.C. I
I wander through my dark--a mournful soul--
chastised--and to the point of no return,
from feeling I may die--an Earthly goal,,
with ev'ry beat of life--I sting and burn!
An acid feeling, borned from deep in me,
encompassing my ev'ry living cell--
and though I'm with the world--or seem to be--
all I've become--is what no words can tell
and searching for the peace--some where in space,
a tiny speck of hope--to pain no more--
until I'm brought back to the human race
by misery of what life has in store.
And when I take the pause--I never know
what ugliness my body's letting go.
U.C. II
That vilest of the vile--of all I've known--
lays tainted by the blood I hold so dear,
accompanied by mucous--or alone--
it shakes my heart right to my greatest fear.
Oh! Lord--lay not mine eyes--onto these things--
but what's been normal throughout all my youth,
such beauty's not beheld--until life brings--
the ugly passing on--of my uncouth!
And grant an understanding--of it all--
to those who never know the pain of it.
Yea--never might they have to climb the wall--
nor have to pray life lets them live a bit.
If guilt be mine--I've paid ten thousand ways--
enough to compensate--for all my days!
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
Categories:
vilest, age, health, life, sick,
Form:
Sonnet
Where once there was the image of your face
There's now a gaping hole, an open space
When once I heard the beauty in your voice
There is a deafness there, and it's by choice
Where once there were your words in beauty wreathed
There is a darkened shroud they have bequeathed
When once there was the brilliance of your smile
There is but bitter taste of vilest bile
Where once there was the comfort of your arms
There is but thorns in place of all the charms
When once there was the pleasure of your kiss
There is but sound of demons' awful hiss
You were alive, but dead you are to me
I'll exorcise your ghost, and be set free!!
Eileen Manassian
Categories:
vilest, gothic, pain,
Form:
Sonnet
THE GREATEST THING THIS SIDE OF HEAVEN
The greatest thing this side of heaven is not all the flowers that grow,
Though they be so fragrant and pretty and colorful there in a row.
The greatest thing this side of heaven is not all the songbirds that sing,
Though they tell the ending of winter and the coming of warmth in the spring.
The greatest thing this side of heaven is not the gold sun in the sky,
Though its warmth and brightness is awesome as it shines above and so high.
The greatest thing this side of heaven is not a great song we could hear,
Though the melody may be refreshing and its words that will enter our ear.
The greatest thing this side of heaven came down from that place long ago
And was born in a worst side of heaven—a manger, a stable so low.
The greatest thing this side of heaven was what this man offered for free:
A pardon from sin’s condemnation—His grace in believers to be.
It’s grace for the vilest offender, the one who’s gone deepest in sin,
If he will just simply accept it and let this great Savior come in.
It’s grace for the young Christian’s battles to keep him through doubt and despair,
For His grace is made perfect in weakness and will guard him and keep him right there.
It’s grace for the wandering backslider who made the wrong choice, is astray,
For grace will reach out to restore him when he comes back home from that way.
It’s grace for the suffering Christian, whatever his trial may be,
For Jesus will never forsake him, His presence for eternity.
Yes, the greatest thing this side of heaven is a gift that no else can replace:
It comes from the Father in heaven; it’s the gift of His marvelous grace!
--Based on a sermon preached by Dr. Tracy Fowler, Heritage Baptist Church, October, 2015
Categories:
vilest, gospel, heaven, inspirational,
Form:
Rhyme
The wooden cross was stained crimson red
As the Man of Sorrows screeched and bled,
The offender’s heart leaped with joy to know
That scarlet sin had turned whiter than snow.
He wondered what gift to offer such a one,-
The Victor who had the age-old battle won
And taken way the hopeless criminal’s fear
And brought the doubter’s salvation near.
How could he reward He who took his care
And removed death’s ever nagging scare?
How could he ever pay the Prince of Peace
Who had granted his life an eternal lease?
The guilt-laden outlaw given to the vilest vice
Knew that even silver and gold won’t suffice
To honor his selfless Savior’s lasting scar
That availed the sinner’s hope once far.
Categories:
vilest, religion,
Form:
Pastoral
Gold is the color in the veins of that ore
and red is the color in the veins of war.
Bankers have bested alchemists of old
and found a way to turn blood into gold.
With a false flag attack invent a foe
to rally the nation around a flagpole.
Then ignite emotions till a vengeance flows
that sends the troops to die in foxholes.
In the business of war you fund foe and friend
with flows of equipment to wars without end.
Allies and enemies, they’re both the same,
destroy and replace is the name of the game.
Equip your armies with bombers and tanks
then deposit the proceeds into the banks.
Blow them all up and when that’s complete
order replacements from the corporate elite.
Those who protest can often be coaxed
to close their eyes and join in the hoax.
Money has power to eradicate proof
and nullify all indisputable truth.
Morals and loyalty have prices and range
that are traded like stocks on an exchange.
As the bribes go up ethics go down
and there’s never a lack of sellers around.
The wealthy think they’re a class of high priests
and the crumbs of their greed are some kind of feast.
They are held in the highest reverence and awe
by those hungry for power and morally poor.
So anxious are some to devour the scraps
they lick up the floor beneath their bootstraps.
There isn’t a lie that they would not eat
to stay in the grace of the corporate elite.
Those who seek justice are told that the law
is a remedy that’s so righteously pure
that it will imprison the vilest of men
to rectify evil committed by them.
Those who believe the rich go to jail
are lost in the pages of a fairy tale.
There’s no happy ending at the close of the book
all chapters are written and penned by the crooks.
The “enemy is” those who threaten the pork
devoured by Wall St. up in New York.
And if you want some bacon to put on your bread
you’d better tear all who oppose them to shreds.
Put boots on the ground with a sky full of drones
to slaughter resistance in the killing zones.
Let oil and blood flood into the streets
for the profit and pleasure of the corporate elite.
Categories:
vilest, political,
Form:
Couplet
The tortured mind 'tis that causes pain
Knowingly, to others with abandonment
Sticking out its venomous tongue again,
Dissing others, but to its own detriment.
It cannot seem to grasp the simple truth
The tortured mind 'tis that relishes pain,
Twists words into what’s foul and uncouth
Eschews responsibility, like clearly insane.
Becoming harder and harder to explain
Ranting and raving with vilest intent
The tortured mind 'tis that releases pain,
Until forcibly silenced it will not relent.
Seeks new faces, new victims to assault
But continues to sing an old, old refrain
Dares never to admit its own arrant fault
The tortured mind 'tis that pleasures pain.
Written August 30, 2022
[with slight change in the
repeated line throughout]
Categories:
vilest, anti bullying, conflict, mental
Form:
Quatern
So Fleet, The Monster's Retreat
It manifested a dark form surprising
great fear in my heart thus rising
Resting against the mirror stand
ghastly in color, with deformed hand
Something bad did then seem amiss
this creature strayed from the abyss
Invading my secluded and small room
reeking of vilest stench and doom
I flinched back as it read my mind
probing with deceit and curses unkind
Curses, the accusations of its soul
pain inflicted was real, took a toll
My desire was to fall down and cry
Yet I firmly stood not knowing why
Closer it eased to touch my face
heart almost burst as it did so race
Suddenly light charged into the scene
brightness showed a face so very mean
Next a cry as light touched its skin
gone in a flash, never seen again
I fell back sick and soaked in fear
its darkness still felt far too near
All lights I then swiftly turned on
just to make sure the beast had gone
There where it stood was a black spot
clean it up then I would dare not
Next morn the spot was glowing there
A reminder of the night's ghostly scare
Robert J. Lindley , 05-16-2015
A dark one, for the kids to ponder...
Categories:
vilest, dark, evil, horror, imagination,
Form:
Rhyme
.
It rages from within itself,
feeding on its own inner fire,
ablaze with the vilest of ire.
With spiteful, toxic vengeance
'neath the gloss of civility,
it smolders silently smokeless.
With mean, murderous intent,
'neath the mask of cordiality,
it burns so flawlessly flameless.
With insatiable, hellish wrath,
'neath the charm of sincerity,
it boils up then explodes noiseless.
It's a cold, seething ember
in a smile deeply embedded,
your vindictive, white-hot hatred!
.
Categories:
vilest, passion
Form:
Tail-rhyme
Angry, vilest moniker
Defeater of peace
Harbinger of repression
Men assume what they don’t know
It holds me back from entering the sacred realm
Calm awareness
Categories:
vilest, art
Form:
Free verse