She keeps a loaded *****
in her shoulder bag.
She once found an unused finger
and has been thrusting it
at hapless men ever since.
She loves TMZ and Nancy Grace.
She sells space to celebrities
and their attorneys.
She harangues her cosmetologists
probing for their facial weaknesses.
She carries a Pekinese with diamonds.
She is a mother of cloud-children
that live on the outskirts
of her other interests.
She diets on crustaceans and couscous.
Her soft parts are pummeled
into snapping turtles.
While I was away,
her hard buttocks came to visit.
they left a card that said:
Your home has been remodeled
to suit a better class of person.
You need to downsize immediately,
contact my office
for further instructions.
I approached the authorities -
they just shrugged.
Categories:
harangues, poetry,
Form: Free verse
November comes to a whimpering close
No harangues of wind or blustery snows,
Rather hopefully I watch as autumn goes
Thinking of wreaths and Christmas bows
The airwaves are filled with holiday shows
Elves are on the shelves, everyone knows,
Holiday parties where hard liquor flows
Reminds me I forgot to wind up the hose
But Mama has brought out heavier throws,
The yard is through with its seasonal mows
November sees the last of the pink rose,
And heavy socks now cover my chilly toes.
written November 28, 2021
Categories:
harangues, november,
Form: Monorhyme
Drowning in our incubus sleep,
phantom enemies are devised.
Easy answers for night terrors.
Social purgatory for the stranger,
Our river Styx for the brown ones.
Our fortress must wall them out.
Brown poverty is culpable.
Starving families must be criminals.
Racialism winking and nodding.
Jingoism sneering and taunting.
Everyone knows the words.
ICE round up the suspects.
Our delirious sorcery making police raids.
For us wall builders, it is always midnight.
For us distracted, there is never safety.
We are detainees of our nightmare,
POWs of our wraiths.
The smeared tirades offer glaucoma.
The duplicitous liars supply our slumber.
The scapegoating harangues support our night blindness.
Yet, we always awaken sweating
in our witless twisted sheets.
Categories:
harangues, america, fear, hate, mental
Form: Political Verse
She keeps a loaded barb
in her pocket book.
She once found an unused finger,
and has been thrusting it
at hapless men ever since.
She loves TMZ and Nancy Grace.
She sells space to celebrities
and their attorneys.
She harangues the cosmetologist
at Macy’s,
probing for facial weaknesses.
She carries a Pekinese with diamonds.
She is a mother of cloud-children.
They live on the outskirts
of her other interests.
She diets on crustaceans and couscous.
Her soft parts are pummeled
into snapping turtles
While I was away,
her hard buttocks came to visit.
It left a blank card
and a small unspoken threat.
The ‘threat’ was on the front step
when I returned home.
it is now under my roof,
organizing my life, remodeling it
into something less comfortable.
more ergonomically efficient.
I have informed the authorities.
Categories:
harangues, poetry,
Form: Free verse
THE GREAT PHYSICIAN
the gray sky of a virus, angry
furrowed brows -
scowling,
coughing - not laughing.
what affectation the globe hurling
toward fear.
illness towering, over
the marketplace, toppling
blocks.
Control harangues,
mocks.
who is really pulling the strings?
the jester jingling his fool’s hat,
carrion of a mock scepter -
his feet shuffling us back in time
to the folly of our ways —
“falalalalala,” he sings.
the Great Physician waits for our call
3/2/2020
Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as
the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled,
neither let them be afraid. John 14:27 ESV
But when he heard it, he said, “Those who are well
have no need of a physician, but those who are sick.
Matthew 9:12 ESV
Categories:
harangues, christian, sick, world,
Form: Free verse
Ouch! They cause pain whether
from human or cat.
Words can be claw-like when
attacking an opponent's back.
Being swift, cruel and degrading,
Is the clarion call of our generation.
The smallest of souls have violent mouths.
Souls in people with character can hold their own,
During harangues and deceitful, vicious onslaughts.
I need not mention who I am speaking of.
Just wish they remember they were all made by God.
And one day each of them like us,
Will be buried under the dark,
stillness of God's eternal sod.
June 29, 2019
7pm PST
Categories:
harangues, america,
Form: Free verse
"Hopeless devotion" sounds ever so fake;
my heart is spellbound but my mind's not found.
I wonder will the pangs of your heart ache
when longing harangues and I'm not around?
There is no honest gain to your crying;
it is just a chain which does not restrain.
How wide - the gap of insincere lying?
It serves to unwrap memories of pain.
This falling in love stuff is too easy;
yes, to hang is rough and to bond is tough.
I am asking, “How long will you love me?”
Your forever may not be strong enough.
Changing the paradigm, we can adjust.
We have hills yet to climb; hope at its prime.
We'll build love's foundation on truth and trust.
Laying them as groundwork will take some time.
written 6 June 2016
using these three song prompts
A Time for Us by Andy Williams
Hopelessly Devoted to You by Olivia Newton-John
When I Fall in Love by Rick Astley
for contest: Teppo Gren's Golden Oldies # 3
also entered in contest: John Hamilton's Your Best Rhyming Poem (2/1/17)
Categories:
harangues, 11th grade, emotions, love,
Form: Quatrain
What do I see that is not there?
All about is dark
Causing my senses to tingle
Filling me with fear
I can see currents of emotions
Swirling in the air
I feel the burden of too much care
I am being filled with deep despair
As clear as day I observe the unseen
I linger in a dream
Where all is worse than it seems
Anxiety rules supreme over me
My sixth sense harangues me
No one I am sure can rescue me
I inhabit a world where light shines through darkness
Illuminating all that is hidden
And was never meant to be seen
What I see that isn’t there
Are not ghouls and spectres
But are truths laid incautiously bare
What I see is never clear
Unless
I am filled with deep fear
It is a curse I must
Perpetually bear
Categories:
harangues, depression, dream, emotions, fear,
Form: Verse
Everybody wants to live for ever
They try very hard not to die
Their activities are so disastrous
They make Mother Nature cry
We attempt to engineer longevity
And delay the inevitable
Unable to bear the burden
Of a transient existence
We set ourselves up as gods over nature
Death follows us wherever we go
Time will cause us to be forgotten
We only inhabit a few seconds
In the hour that is life
We can never outlive what we are yet to fully understand
For nature has its own agenda
Our advancement has been rapid
Our hopes have been triumphed
By our energetic abilities
We aim to conquer
And claim dominion over all
Our anxiety regarding our significance
Harangues our thoughts
Man categorises and type cast’s all
To understand the creator
He delves deep into the cosmos
And dissects the Supreme's intentions
He aches to know where it all began
Man understands not
The unique balance that is life
He wishes to humble all
To the throne that is his ego
Knowing does not mean understanding
We know what happens to the seed as it grows
But not why the need for a seed
Some things are best left to faith
We may only know
What we need to know
Categories:
harangues, angst, brother, depression,
Form: Prose Poetry
Oh, Oh! The full moon is almost full bloom.
I know what that means. Get the straitjacket.
Tie me down; lock me in a padded room.
They say I make a helluva racket.
I don't grow copious hair or large fangs.
Wish I did. This way a stake or bullet
Would end my monthly lunatic harangues.
Either suggestion hasn't been tried yet.
It's god awful, controlled by the damn moon.
I become a different kind of person:
Jekyll in the morn, Hyde by afternoon.
You'd think over time that it would lessen
A bit, Yea, right! I'd have a better chance
Of seeing god perform a song and dance.
Categories:
harangues, introspectiongod, god, me,
Form: Sonnet
a most irksome, self-righteous creature on earth,
this megaphoning doomsday prophet in the street
who harasses and harangues everyone to repent;
this holier-than-thou dude with a cultist attitude,
acting like some toothless dentist of decency,
claiming to protect the molars of morals in society;
scaring folks with spiritual toothache and decay,
but from the curse of eternal torment and agony
he spares those who donate generously to his charity!
Categories:
harangues, people, philosophy, social,
Form: Rhyme