Manipulation
Procrastination
Isolation
No motivation
Bell rings
Kettle sings
Timer dings
Pendulum swings
Frenetic
Pathetic
No work ethic
Copacetic
Obsession
Possession
Depression
Aggression
Alarm beeping
Secret keeping
Trauma steeping
Expletive bleeping
Dramatic
Ecstatic
Fanatic
Traumatic
Affliction
Suspicion
Mortician
Addiction
W T F
Let’s imagine somebody
naive as they can be.
What might they imagine when
WTF they see?
For someone on a diet
could it mean “Withhold the Fat?”
“Wash the Fridge” perhaps?
My mom would think of that!
A girl into clothing could suppose
WTF means “Wear Trendy Fashion.”
“Wear Tight Footwear” no one though
could think and have compassion.
“Wash Tired Feet” might someone think?
Or “Warm the Feet” after time in snow?
“Wrap the Fracture.” Is that done?
I’m not sure that I know!
“Warm the Furnace”? That sounds lame.
“Woo The Folks” could be
a slogan for politicians
who can’t get to ME!
“Whack the Fiend.” I like that.
And “Whack the Fibber,” but
“What‘s the fuss?” sounds better.
than “Walk the Feline”. . . . What?
“Whip the Flesh” works for sadists.
Could “Wave the Fists” sound cool?
I like “Welcome Tiny Folks”
for a nursery school.
Just a few more. How about
“Wake the Family”?
Watch the Fuel” also works
in this economy.
Finally, when I think
of N/A’s from a judge,
if I feel my poem is really good,
I murmur “What the (bleeping bleeping) Fudge.”
All quiet on the western front:
The rest, in bed, still sleeping.
Then, audibly, I hear a grunt;
The neck hairs start their creeping.
Then springing up from on the couch
To do a full room sweeping,
I stub a toe, a stifled ouch,
And words that need some bleeping.
And there beneath me, I can vouch,
The monitor is beeping.
It’s Vivian, no ogrish grouch,
Whose company I’m keeping.
Light dawns outside and yet the clock
delays its morning squawk. Of late,
my furry mate and I would walk,
but balk she does till nearly eight.
It’s great that she can stay asleep;
I leap from bed at hours strange.
Deranged to most, I wish they’d keep
on saving, stop the bleeping change.
----------
A 'Wreathed Octave', ababcdcd where lines 2-8 have an internal rhyme with the previous line's end rhyme. (e.g., clock/squawk, late/mate, etc.)
Tick tock,
No time for her son,
‘On Tiktok bleeping her cleavages to strange men,
Social media hallucination,
living a lie,
Here, everything is perfect,
The sky is blue, it never rains,
Everyone is rich & poverty is slang on the lips of black men,
Here, love is beautiful;
Till breakfast is served in court,
We lie too much,
Like politicians, our tongues are twisted,
Curled, tangled, braided in self-deceit,
Sometimes God doubts he created us,
We lie too much.
We ingest about 70 insects while sleeping
Tell me these facts are fictitious, my mind's bleeping
Yucky I say
Not true, NO WAY!
But I'll still stay awake to catch these guy's a-leaping
In a lifetime, we ingest 70 insects while sleeping
Tell me these facts are fictitious, my mind is bleeping
Yucky I say
Not true, NO WAY!
But I'll stay awake to catch these guy's leaping
Pointedly poignant points portend pointillism.
Pontiffs pontificate pointless pointers ponderously.
Pompous poems populate Pompei pottery potently.
Porous *********** portrays Portuguese porta potties.
Poppies pop Popeye’s popular popcorn.
Populist populism pots ponies properly.
Blithering blather blots bloody bleeping blips.
Bloomberg blogs bleach bleating bloated blinks.
Bluebloods bloom black blackberry bloopers.
Bluetooth blizzards blame blurry blackboards.
Blithe blighted bladders blatantly block blades.
Blazing blasts bleed blooming blenders.
Fumbling fumes funerals fast.
Feuding fluid furniture flutters flaps.
Fighting flatulent flamingos flounder.
Floating flotillas flee flying flops.
Families foment future futile forms.
Freaky frozen French fries frighten frogs.
I sat alone beside you while you slept
beneath the crisp white sheets- and bleeping machines
I held your hand, I knew you were leaving.
I sat alone beside you while you left
beneath the crisp white sheets- and bleeping machines
I held your hand- waited as it turned cold.
I stood alone while they lowered you
beneath the crisp cold earth-glad for your peace
I had only the silence for company.
Now I sit alone with memories of you-of us,
beneath the night sky late at night-think of you in heaven
And, to the heavens I say 'Goodnight'.
What The Bleeping Bleepers?
What the bleeping bleepers
what the blankety blanks
what the freaking freaks
what the hellish hells
what the palish pales
what the fracking fracks
what the ducking ducks
what the bucking bucks
what the tucking tucks
what the plucking plucks
what the glucking glucks
what the mucking mucks
what the Kanting Kants
what the geezing geezers
what the retching retches
what the wanting wants
what the tarnating tarnations
what the condemning condemnations
what the murdering murders
what the hating haters
what the loving lovers
what the juxtaposing juxtapositions
what the perceptionalizing perceptions
what the darnating darnations
what the reaping reapers
what the creeping creepers
what the streaking streaks
what the leaking leaks
what the what is happening in today's society
what the what are our solutions in order to fix this world
Your
death
hit me
very hard
I’d sat by your side
until the machine stopped bleeping.
Your chest remained still as you’d taken your final breath
I wept as I closed your eyes, kissing your icy cheek I whispered adieu my darling
FICTION POEM
Writing Challenge January, 2019- Fibonacci - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Dear Heart
Checked with how many syllables
1/1/19
(preferably read in a Boston accent)
When pesky problems piss you off
At no one in particular,
Or bleeping blockheads boil your blood
To rage like old Caligula,
Or dawdling drivers make you mull
Mass homicide, vehicular,
Don’t blame yourself; it’s not your fault;
It’s just your darn amygdala.
Stroke Victim
Time is Brain
F.A.S.T. learners gain
Bleeping Busy Bees
Busy Robo- apians
Censoring Homo- sapiens
Turbid Transparency
Dark money donors
Opaque Senate owners
Turtle Hurdles
Baby sea turtles
Face huge hurdles
Take Responsibility
Stay in front
Bear the brunt
Checks and Balances
One man's solution
Trumps the Constitution?
Busy Robo- apians
Censoring Homo- sapiens
Bleeping like neon
screens off and on
melancholy of the viewer
glory of IT
Electronic health record
now online
like the Terminator series
humanity heading
towards point of no return
Logged on
all the organs and vital functions
in full view
to peruse
functional status
Let's not forget
metabolic indices
circulatory parameters
and those reminders
and warnings
uggh
The house doctor
with the paternal smile
and bag of tricks
thing of the past
That was only
when men
walked on the moon
Now we walk in cyberspace
where all is revealed
yet all is concealed
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