Heckling Poems | Examples

the horse is dead dismount

my husband and I used to argue
weeks after a verbal agreement should have been over
we were silly about it
heckling and harassing each other
over things that do not matter
ridiculously egging and goading

my husband told me a story about a soldier
the soldier kept beating his horse after it had died
his commanding officer said “the horse is dead, dismount”.

now when the argument reaches a silly stage
one of us yells “the horse is dead, dismount”
this has worked to end our idiocy for the last fifty years.

Memories of a snowy night

It started last night, gently falling, large flakes.
I was back again almost instantly.

All the faces, my brothers, friends and neighbors.
Everyone is bundled, wearing half the clothes they own.
The speed and thrill going down the hill and 
the long, cold trudge climbing back up again.

The warmth of the bonfire once you finally reach the top.
Jokes and heckling about the previous run, 
then do it all over again, and again….

There are no worries here, 
no democrats or republicans. 
No one has children or mortgages, 
and no one has been to war.

We pile onto large inner tubes from tractor tires,
the more the weight the faster the ride.
Piled high down “Suicide Hill” with reckless abandon,
headed for the frozen creek below. 

The bodies of snow warriors are tossed aside,
we are the children of the cold dark night.
Our laughter and screams echoing as a song,
throughout the surrounding hills.

Empty Parking Lot

Before the empty parking lot,
I can hear the voices of friends,
Their heckling laughter, I forget not,
The fun times that injustice ends.

Looking at the old, ugly building
That won't just crumble down in a curse
I am alone, in this space, hating,
Seeing life in my old, empty purse.

I sighed at the bleak emptiness
Of life that must move on to find labor,
It glared at me, my heart's loneliness
Throbs in pieces of pain—a terror,
That can only find sweetness in a verse,
I think, I dream, I curse!

Dec 4, 2023

A Field, Imagined

embracing the trumpet blast heat 
a boy and girl
hide and seek
midst tall grasses
                  rising like promises at dawn
vibrant lightness of limbs
                   in a green reach
                   lush
                   effortless

two youths
        seek
        rush
        conceal
never quite hidden
nor wanting to be
in verdant bits of impulse
         rotating
         rolling
aromatic blooming that bridges heckling trouble

with energy deflating
in a random shuffling of touch
she ruffles his hair, tufts of flaxen straw
to trace sweat lines on a sun-brown cheek
as if happiness could be cupped like water in hand

in this field
absolved from the discord of home
their plain surface vows
comforting
like the grass rolled flat
                         under surges of joy



Poem composed March 26, 2022

Addicted To Writing

I wonder if Wright
ever thought himself wrong,

before making an actual 
flight? 

I mean, pigeons heckling
him, from the tin roof's ledge (Oh yea! They
do laugh, a sort of subtle, mocking coo, a snickering choir
Wright all too well knew --

as if only pigeons flew
  
probably more upset that it was not Kitty Pigeon
(bemoaned a Homer of the Township's naming decision) 
(damn hawks always got the greater glory!) – despite what pigeons did 
during the perilous war story, risking beak and tail, so our nation would prevail --
and yet, still used, primarily, for Chow Mein and 
free-range stew, as if humans yet had not a moral clue) 
(But I digress. Should be cautious: feathered Ears everywhere...
myself soon expecting a head full of taunting goo – followed by
cooing laughter~ daring me to take offense~ just try to sue!) – 

And now, it is high-time I confess
this write not about Wright, not about
wings, nor pigeon mess – but more about
being bored, with presently not a thought 
worthy enough to intelligently address.... Addicted to writing.

Gulls Ride Upon the High Sea's Tongue

What crashes into them
is the oceans voice beheaded.

Seabirds skim upon verge and crest,
a green swell of rise and fall.

Open mouths trawl the air
then plunge into a rising wave
to scoop a thrashing fin
that dangles now
between life and death.
Gullets gulp down then wide wings
swim on.

Indoor cats stare out of windows
as the heckling hunters tumble and dive
for shadows of silver iridescence.

Those engaged upon the land
hear the piratical calls of ocean winds,
the harsh and throaty feasting
above the seas rolling tongue.

A fishing village witnesses
this wild dance of catch and hide,
overhears that high cry above
the restless surf and spray;
and when the fishing boats return
they haul the harvest in.

Here under a shale roofed salty cottage
a portly house cat abides beside a tin dish
for its daily dine of scaly fish.
© 4 hours ago

He Reeks of Ill Will

The sheriff had a visitor who growled like thunder,
a rabid dog, teeth bared trying to tear him asunder.
She howled that he'd attacked a member of her pack
Saying Mark was the aggressor and giving him flack.

She told him he'd listened to those who are wrong
then called him a troll, singing that same old song.
He replied to her comments, showing no disrespect
but her defense of that yobbo is hogwash that I reject.

She accused the sheriff of robbing PS of a great poet.
But all the real troll offered was trouble. We know it.
The doggie's heckling prickled me like a thorn or a spur
I won't miss that cowardly 'deleter,' that cocky old cur.

She can defend her crud bud any way she chooses,
but he will always be the one many of us accuses
of bullying, for each time he returns he reeks of ill will.
Hope we've seen the last of him and his snippety quill.

I Wanted To Give a Bird the Bird

iron snail scalloped decorative lamp in the evening light
I saw her in the distance and she seemed less bright
I walked quite close and saw a pompous pigeon proud and perky.
She was staring at a distant field, ogling a hideously ugly turkey.

You are way too pretty for that old geezer, I said to the bird.
She pointedly looked my way and said, “Don’t be absurd!”
This surprised me so hard I fell back and hit my head on a branch.
Falling with my salad, losing every scoop of my ranch.

A crow came by and made fun of me, heckling like mad.
If I had not been laughing so hard, it might have been sad.
That’s the last time I try to help a prissy pigeon, believe me.
The last I saw of her, she was flying with a squirrel to a tree.

Grackles

Grackles

I rambled along a city street
Going nowhere with no one to meet.
When I espied grackles in a tree,
Stretching and heckling between the leaves.
Purplish headed, black feathered beings.
Perched on the branches, stately and free.

Undaunted by my drawing nearer,
Their yellow eyes traced my demeanour.
And when I stopped to observe the plague,
While standing ‘neath the foliage shade,
They dropped to the ground and hopped around
Searching for bugs and seeds to swallow down.

Other birds in the vicinity
Colourfully dressed and singing brightly
Flitted about but could not drown out
The grackles’ cacophony here about.
Their corny antics invoked my senses
To marvel that such creatures existed.

And as I continue my dreary way,
In this world of bland human display,
I think of them enjoying summer
Filling my heart with spirited wonder.
And chuckle to myself by chance to see
Grackles basking in tall broadleaf trees.

Oh Well

Skinny Claus, padded coat, he-he!
Know-it-all kids pull his goatee,
heckling, “Where’d your beard go? pray tell."
“Same place as my toy bag. -- Oh well!”

December 22, 2020

contest:  Christmas Chastushka
sponsor: Andrea Dietrich

Laughter-

Laughter
Once I sat engaged and snorting
I crave the laugh some, 
laughter less laughter
Of the giggle's that is non-sporting
My silliness, I could not awaken
Sleeping in my sadness
I crave the horselaughs,
Laughter 
laugh-worthy looniness
That howling tomfoolery - that howling tomfoolery
And the giggles never grinning

I crave the addicted, amusement applause

so long so long engaged and snorting 
Laughter
That moment my soul grew powdered
I discovered the jokes 
Much marveled the embalming madcap fatuity

I heard a silent, laughing cackling
darkness heckling
ahh ha ha ha ha, I discovered
cackling  embalming laughing  
Of the giggle's
ahh ha ha ha ha, ahh ha ha ha ha
:  )  Laughter



8/8/20- 2020 ©

Strand Completely New (19), Any Form, Any Theme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by:Brian Strand

Seabirds and Waves

They cry through open caves,
plunge behind last raised wing.
What crashes into them
is the oceans voice beheaded.
They rollick on the verge 
of a rise and fall.
Indoor cats stare out of windows
as heckling seabirds tumble and dive
for shadows of sleek iridescence.
Those hunched upon the land
hear a kraken call
made small,
a throaty ravening, 
couched within the seas rolling tongue,
where the free freely hunt
the already captive,
the almost caught.

Ice Nine Conclusion

Lucifer laughs in their atonement.
Heckling his own cackling,
impossible to hide his unimaginable merriment.
The Anti-Saviour, savoring every last bit,
his eyes teary.
Of his satire, the play by play,
holding the pit,
of his aching stomach, adding savoir faire,
mixed with old Saint Nicks way.
Lucifer stops to sip a smoothy sarsparilla.
Savagely mocking the scene,
popping up his drink umbrella,
with eyes crossed and ablaze.
"This is neverending!" he gleams.
No remorse, for the Ultimate Sin.
To God, never a thought.
"Ever defiant to what once was, given you"
By your own venom-
You thumbed your nose, loving loves life-not.
So in venom is how you'll be,
in Hell's ice box.

Blazing Beast

The ground gaped garishly, gored with ghastly gouges of glowing, gravelly gobs ...

Finally unfettered from a frigid firmament, flames flung fiery, flaring fingers 
          ferociously forward ...

The blazing bastions bent on burning the backwood bluffs bare with bitter brutality ...

Unholy hoards of heated horror hailing the heavens with heinous, heckling howls of                           
          hellish hostility.

Hopeful and Honest In Its Entirety

"As the thunder rolls away above and beyond the-
hills there over yonder with the fish jumping now 
black crows above me heckling, cows bellowing moo, 
geese cackling too ... frogs appearing by the dozen's 
hopping around looking at me rather curiously 
as to say " Look out for them apples." jumping 
into the stream showing their joyous bottoms 
off to me before they hop in the waters ribbit, 
ribbit, ribbit-thunk splashing. So with all of 
this, you could say I'm feeling rather 
humbled just like Newton I would 
assume. All giddy and-enlightened 
and evermore heartened I'm sure 
and a little dizzy yet as he would 
be too, still I would presume. 
Running head on with this 
proposal."


"That with God, given  the gravity-
of it being whatever the situation or-
circumstance, whether with my eyes-
opened or be it them fully closed. Still, 
with my patient Friend I'm learning, 
though I seem to be having a real hard 
hard time at it myself, being rather-
stubborn at the moment, but as I-
know it is well with Him... as-
He is always open to-
me and my prayers, 
I am aware as I 
know my fate, 
with-Him, is-
secured."

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