So Instagram is a sham
Everyone seems smitten
With posts about a kitten
Or hosts who hate Britain
Or boasts so badly written
Toasts flam & are all bitten
Goddam is just like spam
Famalam use as a babysitter
Wham bam for any dimwitter
Won’t scram will be a big hitter
Instagram is just glam glitter
Oh please look at me vanity
Narcissist wheeze is insanity
Tease with another profanity
Disease crippling all humanity
Pedants on pews lives fritter
Algorithm queues like twitter
Bottom feeder ruse you critter
Needier travesty tapestry knitter
Greedier fuse lit & now shi*ter
Seedier impropriety just litter
Social media a society splitter
Notoriety trolls scrolls flitter
Anxiety but folks will still titter
Piety for botox you’ll be fitter
Ham it up cash cow AI lie spitter
Kowtow get no views so just bitter
Kapow a scam not some Ashram
Stop cropped photoshopped slop
They cram in a half baked pitta
Instagram is bust and just a sham
I woke this morning to hear a dove,
and wondered why peace and love
was not the mainstay of this earth,
as the sun, to a new day, gave birth.
Just then, I was roundly slammed,
and called a nutcase (specifically, goddam*ed).
So, I did just like the others,
put tacks on chairs,
stole from my brothers.
Dammit all, I need my laptop
before Beta hazes the flow
Goddam glasses, where are they
During the Second Layer
A guy is fixing the bed
But It still squeaks for some reason
In adult dreams I needn’t
Explain why the bed squeaks
When I built the thing I installed
Hook-eyes to keep you spread
and use zip ties because
the Asian way is to resist
We two like it this way
I don’t know why all this
Is related. It all made
sense a minute ago
During the First Layer
That woman from your work
was here with those Siamese eyes
Headlights as hard as this bed
She works her hips and heels
And looks at me when you can’t see
But now I’m awake enough
To watch the handyman
Trying to fix the squeak
There was a young man from Mayam
Who asked, “I’m in May?” (mai) “I am!”
When a woman said, “Liar!”,
he responded in ire,
“but madam, I’m Adam, Goddam!”
So you’re an alien
Well look at you!
What the hell took you so long to get…..
Stupid question!
Don’t answer that
I mean where on Earth did you come from,
erm…..
Another dumb question!
Forgive me
I’m just a bit nervous
It’s my first time to interview a fully legit Alien
I’m a Little green….
Man…!
what’s happening to me
I mean I’d no idea what to expect…
And you look… so well erm….
Out of this World
S#*t I’m at it again
What’s wrong with me today
Goddam!
Ok….ok let’s start again
you must have a name
all Superstars… do
Oh crap!
Gotta pull myself together!
Sorry I’m completely erm….
Star-struck
Oh f@#* this!
One last try
Hey! are those Black holes your eyes
or….
Son of a B!tch!
It must be the Gravity of the situation
Are you Binary or non… erm
No wait!
Please don’t leave
This moment is so
Special….. relatively speaking anyway
(Anchor man yells)
Cut Cut!
This is one
Supermassive f@#* up
Somebody get this
Nebulous idiot
off the airwaves!
Go to adverts….
These messages are brought to you
by Universal…. blah blah……!
What else is there to say
I’m stuck in a nightmare
On repeat
And it keeps going
Yet time is slower -
You took it with you
Time doesn’t make sense
Left us in the dark
Unable to feel you
A knifes stabbed in my chest
And I feel my heart throbbing
This life became a goddam mess
You and I will never meet
Not on this go 'round at least
But if you were to ask my advice
From what I've learned in this life
The lines what follow I'd concede
Set to a rock 'n roll beat:
Don’t put your faith in no man
He’s trying to do what he can
To get you to believe in his way
Just so you do what he say
That’s a goddam charlatan
Don’t waste faith on any man
Don’t you trust a lady
Who want to rock you like a baby
She drips her words like honey
So you give her your money
And get to feeling half crazy
No don’t you trust that lady
Church or government or company
Ain’t got time for you and me
They live a life of their own
Need to say how much they’ve grown
Institutional control must be
They might die if we’re too free
Love whoever you must love
Love whichever spirit’s up above
Love your body and your mind
Love the earth and sea and sky
Don’t worry about moving up
Love is love and that’s enough
June 15, 2019
With a great plan have I sojourn to this world
A plan to hurt my earthly parents,
To cause a non-lasting joy amidst them-
Through my purposeful death
And still coming back to the goddam world
Only to be reborn by my old parents.
I love it when you call me Stillborn
Cos I was never meant to stay
I was only meant to give you joy
Which will be short lived hereafter.
Causing pains to my mother is what I enjoyed most
By allowing her breast milk soured having no one to suck it
And thus,making me proud of my self
For I am Abiku.
WAYLON, WILLIE, MINNIE, LORETTA, AND --KEITH RICHARDS???
(AIN'T NO COUNTRY MUSIC ANYMORE)
There ain't no country music in this town.
Cain't go out drinkin whisky all night long.
can't find no decent juke box anywhere around.
There ain't no country music in this town.
I heard Keith Richards singing Willie's song.
That's why country's gone so goddam wrong.
I don't hear nobody wailin' anywhere in town.
There ain't no country music in this town.
There ain't no country music I can sing.
There ain't no country gitars like there been.
It's more like country jammin slammin on the bar.
There ain't no country music in this town.
There ain't no ladies left like Minnie Pearl
Theire aint much hope without 'em for this world
don't hear Loretta singing, anywhere around
Theire ain't no country music in this town.
There ain't no country music anymore.
I had enough of country rock and roll.
There ain't no fiddles playin down on Music Row.
There ain't no country music in this town.
© Vee Bdosa the doylestown poet
aka Ron Wilson
My life has been a wonder, how I wonder where it went
I wish I’d kept a journal to record the days I spent
So wishing for a future that is now a fading past
I hardly can remember cause I’ve aged so goddam fast.
I’ve tried to quit the smoke and drink but that was just too hard
I find it difficult these days to tidy up my yard
My wife has passed and she was cook so often I’m without
My eyes are bad, my liver’s shot, I suffer with the gout
I chase the girls but never catch and that is just as well
I’m not the man I used to be I’m sure that they could tell
My children now avoid me cause they say I’m such a grouch
They always nag away at me to get up off the couch.
My steps are not as nimble cause my cane gets in the way
I go to church more often and in there I kneel and pray
That if my number’s over soon, I hope my soul’s not lost
And at the gates of heaven by St. Pete I don’t get tossed.
This mind is not as sharp these days my skin is not as taut
That I would live forever is the way I think I thought.
The wall gets closer every day and yes I feel the squeeze
But till they fit me for the pine I’ll do as I damn please.
Schack lives matter for the simple reason that I goddam F' in said so!!!! signed Daniel Schack as in Daniel in the lion's den and let me tell you it feels that just about every bleeding day!
There are those
who are blasting Poetry Soup
They say that the poems there are not very good
Well if there are one hundred thousand or so poem
on the site
some of them are bound to be fine
Some prefer free verse
others rhyme
There are so many
who are writing poems
including not only scholars and professors
but also sanitation workers
baseball players
union members
and doctors and attorneys
Don't let the critics spoil your fun
You are the creator of the verse - not them
(and if you make a little cash out of it
you deserve a goddam medal)
Oh the goddam cockroaches!
Like living aliens from 50’s movies:
and in my house!
Where do they live, these errant knights?
In search of food, and greasy squires, as
they scurry across the kitchen’s night.
One’s without a leg, a skirmish with a skink?
And two just stare at each other; lovers, or
two males looking for a fight?
It’s hard to tell which is which and what is
what, amid the morning heat; but I live in
hope, that they’ll migrate, one day across
the field; to the rich man’s house, that looks
so neat, and share upon his wealth.
and a mobile howitzer (a mortar track)
had blown-up,
nothing remained, except the flattened
bottom;
and what was left of the crew, you could
have scooped up with a spoon:
and when I asked the priest, where their
souls had gone; those that heard, sucked a tooth
and called me a "goddam hippy,"
America heard you singing, Walt,
And stopped to listen. That's our fault.
Now our "poets" ever since
Have written stuff that makes one wince.
They say you've been our nation's bard;
We should have been more on our guard.
Now our narcissistic screeds
Blight the land like noxious weeds.
Self-absorption is the tool
That makes a poet a goddam fool.
You should be made to pay a fee
For setting such a poor e.g..
Poetry should reach our minds
But your stuff's just a rant in lines.
You've dragged us back. We have no hope
Of catching up with Donne or Pope.
As for your democratic bearing,
I didn't see you greatly caring
When your Captain's lust to ravage
Gave the world collateral damage.
Even fig leaves teach us something.
But leaves of grass cover nothing.
I wish you were at least a clown,
So we could laugh you out of town.
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