Spine chilling velocity
Willing feverish ferocity
Pollution spilling atrocity
Pushes our buttons
Top billing forging
Fiendish drilling pomposity
Gluttons gorging in the isles of muttons
Coining the term “purloining”
Plunder even here down under
Cast asunder..can hear the thunder
In the proud land of
The long white cloud
Scold from the fold to heal
But won’t listen..do a deal
Gaudy gems appeal..glisten
History sold for pieces of gold
Cower to phoney crony power
Dour Parasites roll the dice
Show pony baloney hour
Off their heads...now divining
Mining our whining sea beds..
Palaver of scour..devour and sour
Splice our shining slice of paradise
Vice rather than stories of glories told
Voraciously gobbling veracity
Audaciously hobbling precocity
Generosity wobbling even in the home
Of lengthy Cumulus Curiosity…
Not being funny
In this Land of Milk & Honey
Won’t kowtow to the cash cow
Getting out of hand
Because the answer forever
Whatever will never ever
Be just money!
Go and gather up the known affiliates.
We're gonna build a village of idiots.
We gotta make sure this gets crazy.
"Getting out of hand" to me is just lazy.
Had our fill of tastless "pain et cirque".
Contorting dough into a shape won't work.
Hunting down cerebral stimuli.
We got the time to kill but it won't die.
Gonna paint this town the bloodiest of red.
A thin veneer of all the living dead.
Choking to death on the lives they've led.
Infected by the many lies wide-spread.
Blunt force persuasion you beg us to stop.
As we eyeball the pyramidal top.
It's "for the greater good" just "flattening the curve".
Please you must excuse our unabated verve.
Treating us like pets you got a whole lotta nerve.
We're the only cure you will ever deserve.
We got the hunger and we're coming for a taste
Won't be over until you resemble paste.
So we're disposable? now look who's a waste.
Editing the gene pool til your bloodlines erased.
Illuminati, elimination.
Very soon to be a not so Freemason.
More than welcoming your depopulation.
No political parties bring celebration.
The "ruling class" now holding no dominion.
Truly free no longer an unwilling minion.
This ‘moving to the country’ is getting out of hand
The city has it all, where supply meets demand
Each block has a deli
Enough to fill a belly
And that’s what we call ‘living off the land’!
This precious planet we have damned
by plundering it day on day.
We still fell forests for more land.
In game of greed we lead the way.
We fudge figures and then pretend.
I shut my eyes and start to pray.
Air pollution we fail to mend
and plastic waste in ocean stray.
Both problems getting out of hand
and all wildlife we now betray.
To other species we’re no friend.
I shut my eyes and start to pray.
It’s time our thinking we amend.
and without any more delay.
Our selfish ways we still defend.
These issues upon my mind weigh.
Earth’s future now on man depend.
I shut my eyes and start to pray.
As time passes by, people pass through
In all walks of life and ways of behaving
Most are congenial, but I’ve noticed a few
Who, apparently, have an inane craving
For causing a ruckus whenever they can
For the life of me, I can’t figure out why
They enjoy riling, and getting out of hand
But, I am thankful they’re in short supply.
Their type explain why we always have war
[Oh, on a much smaller scale, to be sure]
These people who have a burr up their a***
And want to spread around their manure.
They seem invested in getting their way
Always expressing a different point of view
Being confrontive and oppositional, I’d say,
It appears they have nothing better to do.
I appreciate many diverse ways of thinking
Knowing my opinion isn’t always the best,
But when I discover my attitude is stinking
I try to back off, giving the situation a rest.
Written August 16, 2022
[***the British pronounciation
rhymes, well almost!]
Born to repeat
Mistakes of my tree
Inspired by survival
Pain is free
In or out
Of this lottery
My family is growing
With others just like me
Protect the turf without hesitation
Watch your back no matter what the situation
Stand and deliver without guarantees
Your life is precious despite the disease
Sharp extensions to every hand
Navigation is treacherous through my land
Life is cheap, like a grain of sand
My traumatic living is getting out of hand
Forgive me for feeling the need to say
I am neither a Communist nor a Nazi,
I’m a red-blooded American who served
My country in the U. S. Air Force, and,
I have always stood up for what’s right,
And, when bullied, I am up for the fight.
Divisiveness here is getting out of hand,
And probity is not at all being observed
Even hinting that I am a Nazi is crazy!
Forgive me for feeling the need to say.
written December 11, 2021
[written in my reverse rhyme format]
The castles in the sand
Are getting out of hand.
My obsession with writing implements is getting out of hand,
while not quite turning out as planned. I’m still without
that vintage Montblanc, but I’m saving a place in my cabinet
for it, right in the middle where it’ll really shine.
a good pen is
necessary for writing
rivers of ink
I collect all sorts of pens, varieties of nibs allow me to create poetry and illustrate it too; it allows me to create universes. With the ink, I am in flow.
the power of
the fountain pen
creating worlds
My pride is a toss-up between Parker Blue Diamonds and Esterbrooks; if they don’t glide like silk across the page
my creativity stalls. What is given to me, echoes through my soul.
the rivers that flow
from my soul onto the page
channeled scenes
3-24-2021
ALL YOURS (Mar 26) Poetry Contest
Brian Strand
TEMPTED TO MADNESS
Running away from insanity.
Going crazy with reality.
The Coronavirus staying around,
unmasked people getting out of hand,
ongoing protests all over
police brutality over and over.
I just want to run
to have my freedom.
Freedom to be care free,
not minding anybody.
Even for a brief moment
of peace and contentment.
All I want to do
to make it through
is to run free and wild
for I’m going out of my mind.
Like a wild flower child
making whoopee in the wild
under the sky full of stars
or in the back seat of a car.
In a pick up short/long bed
or on the bushes shades.
Ah… Bless my soul
trying to stay whole.
In this troubled time
trying to stay calm
by imagining I’m running free
and wild to keep my sanity.
All I want to do
to make it through
is to run free and wild
for I’m going out of my mind.
8/27/20 Tempted To Madness Edward Ibeh
There once was a great white
Who was looking for a bite
And there was a seashore town
That had smiles instead of a frown
Preparing for a 100 year celebration
With wind surfing racing
It took a whole year of work
And the great white brought a knife and a fork
Towns people started to disappear
And there was something out to fear
Politician Wells who had money to spend
And put up a nice plan that would be strong enough to defend
Off the wind surfers did go
With the shark wanting to feed on the show
They got through the netting
then proceeded to do some upsetting
All this mess
Nearly made rich man Wells confess
But he never shook in his boots
Until his whirly bird went kapootz
With a television reporter getting out of hand
it was up to the author to take a stand
With Vic Morrow who was on loan or borrow
Played the Quint style for awhile
The writer ended up the Captain Brody fighter
As they went fishing with chum that they were dishing
The action in independent film was not missing
It all ended very fast with a nice blast
While the author threw the punch
Before taking his golden girl out to lunch
I'm skippin' the small talk since it doesn't work anymore
I'm quiet all the time and it's from the fear of uttering the wrong words
I'm always in a daze
My mind always attempts to bring back memories
happier moments of my past instead of dwelling on my present
Melancholy, depression
fortunately, there's somethin' new to me
who can make me laugh, make me cry
make me see the reason why the sun shines
until we've started a war without a winner
This war is getting out of hand; how can I...no, no, no
how can we move this mountain between us
Bad days and this trapping haze will be the death of me
Course, of bloody course, it's near impossible
to escape the maze of my thoughts
Give me the strength to break the silence and…
and to tear down this obstacle, will I be happier?
here's hoping for my pride won't allow me the luxury
to call it quits, end this now on even terms
I'm so tired of waging a war with my words
My promises feel like cannons without ammo
window dressing to feel intimidating, important
yet hollow after all…
I can't let that happen, not to the one that made me fall...
Things are getting out of hand.
Peace is no where to be found. I'm tired of contemplating,
And trying to understand, what can't be comprehended.
My sanity fell into a haystack full of needles.
In order to reclaim it, I will have to bleed.
There are no easy answers. Yet answers are what I need.
How can I make amends, when I still don't understand
who I'm supposed to be?
My story is a difficult one to tell.
Especially when it comes to telling it well, from start to finish.
I need to remove myself from this diseased prison cell.
Then maybe I will find the redemption I long for,
a miracle to lift this evil spell.
I will be reborn from the ashes of my old self,
And rise above this cursed hell.
Love hurts, that is true
I can't imagine my life without you
They say when time flows it's like water
Hold onto the chance, cos' it's now or never
But just like water,
holding you was impossible-- there's just no way
I tried to hold onto you but you still slipped away
In our love story anyone could see
How fate is cruel for you and me
Others say love is sweeter on the second time around
But the heart and trust given to you once, you repeatedly broken down
Is it just me or it's really getting out of hand
Was it because our love sank like a quicksand
Now that I moved forward
You came back
My heart you re-shattered
Piece by piece it cracked
Funny how I still question why were we ended hastily
Your love, it lasted once, but we didn't end happily
That night you left, it brought me sorrow
Can't believe again you've made me cry
Now, Our love, Tell me
Does it deserve One More Try?
Become Mad House Horn Haiku
White House has become,
A mad house as well as a
Huge nightmare for sure.
After observing news on AM
of 27 Jul7, 2017. This transgender
thing is also getting out of hand.
James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
Bolivia, NC
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