Donald John Trump, meet Percy Bysshe Shelley
You might have missed him since he's not there on your telly
He shows up in one of those things you held up in your hand
They're better read right side up than at Lafayette's last stand
Now Percy's man no longer stands 'cept in imagination
But what he stood up strong and tall befitting of his station
Is left in its inscription that you might do well to study
Like the writing on the wall where feet of clay turned muddy
Mistaking feats that magnify for feet that fate can't glorify
Leaves features that ironically will serve naught but to horrify
Historians and poets, even patronizing patriots
Even zealots, fans, and delegates won't help you dignify
A girl's soft-eyed glow
Of fascination.
Sweetest, if but looked back on
Could not bear to then
Of what did frighten.
From this safe distance
Time's, easy breathed Time's
What can, now with tears, be told
Does more horrify:
Why, faint hearted, why?
When parents tell their offspring
the definition of a fling
they also include
the story that may sound crude
about the birds and the bees
and Tarzan from the trees.
Children claim that they exaggerate
When they elaborate
on the story
about male guts and glory.
Some kids need them to simplify
and not to horrify
the tale
about the sperm whale.
The teens who love arachnids, sports
and shorts
quickly understand
when their parents demand
a ban on joyriders
and jumping spiders.
Fat from bottom to top
Layers of ugly make up
A scene to horrify and shock
To laugh at and mock
A terror tale
Of a deformed female
Thursday
12/12/2002
Cackles were heard from down under on a hill far away
fifty little saucy spiders scurry helter skelter out to play
A hefty witch stirs her cauldron next to her Bagoon
snake eyes spoon an evil mush as feet dance around the room
Strumpa strumpa crumpetta crumpetta, stomps and rhythms yes they're dead
The stars in heaven grow fangs and the moon wears a skirt of thorns
chainsaw demons flee the sky with decapitated scorn
Oh my oh my Halloween frights are here, although the night is young
old smelly garlic garlands have been strung,
Strumpa strumpa crumpetta crumpetta, stomps and rhythms yes they're dead
She's here to petrify, terrify, horrify and glorify her trade
when they get here they will drink purple blue Kool-aid
Oh Gee Oh Gosh she has lost her pompadour galosh
perhaps its hiding in the pumpkin squash
Strumpa strumpa crumpetta crumpetta, stomps and rhythms yes they're dead.
A dog's job is to foes terrify,
Actors of scary films horrify,
The police a rogue identify,
Insurance firms one indemnify...
Science would laymen's claims verify,
Panels rigged elections nullify,
Microscopes to microbes magnify,
Deodorants to bad air purify.
Witnesses in courts to testify,
A counsel to trial judge mollify,
Big stereos to music amplify;
Flowers one's surroundings beautify...
The Angels Lord God glorify,
Nudists the public mortify!
Far beyond the moonlit corn maze
the silence of true terror lies
within the bonfire’s burning blaze;
‘Urban legend’ isn’t just a paraphrase;
In short it may bring about your demise,
far beyond the moonlit corn maze;
Dressed in October’s magical craze
never controlled though everyone tries,
within the bonfire’s burning blaze;
Gaudy leaves color autumn days;
Darkness fools many with it’s disguise,
far beyond the moonlit corn maze;
Shadows of a spell binding chase;
Endless images horrify smiling eyes
within the bonfire’s burning blaze;
Your fears linger in your mind always,
this haunted event has built a franchise;
Far beyond the moonlit corn maze
within the bonfire’s burning blaze.
A Villanelle on Fate
Why do I weep at acts of fate
And gnash, and claw and cry
She weeps not for me, nor can relate
Though I ache and long to consummate
She feels no need to amplify
Why do I weep for acts of fate
There are those who seek to animate
The coldness she would fortify
She weeps not for me, nor can relate
Wildy I seek to dominate
My will dries up and is left dry
Why do I weep at acts of fate
At death do I seek to elevate
Although she sees no need to qualify
She weeps not for me, nor can relate
And though I thought myself a fair candidate
To prophesy, purify, even horrify
Why do I weep at acts of fate
She weeps not for me, nor can relate
Words dive bombed my hands and my feet
Pelting me like missiles.
Needles going into my pores.
I screamed.
I could not fend them off.
It felt like acupuncture on speed.
The words were scary and mean
Decidedly determined to hurt, horrify and humiliate me
I was putty in their perfect, putrid, pelts.
I begged for mercy.
They made me pick up a pen.
They forced me to write.
Ouch! One just zinged my ear.
Apparently I have not satisfied them yet….
We're all seduced by beauty,
perennially tempted by greed.
Ashamed to be seen naked
literally and metaphorically speaking.
We're uncomfortable being closely
watched and studied.
Much like electricity, we choose
the path of least resistance
when presented with a daunting challenge.
We're all-disposed to change.
We worry more than we should
when we're concerned.
We avoid anything we fear;
reluctant to veer out of our comfort zones
We have a tendency to procrastinate
tasks we detest performing.
We cry when we feel emotional pain.
We fuss when things don't go our away.
We question things we don't understand;
recoil at things that horrify us.
Our brain is wired to take steps back
from danger, to be distrustful of strangers
We'll never stop craving more and more money
Why? It's quite simple. Human nature.
Date written: 06/08/2020
solidify
dragonfly
mortify
horrify
glorify
amplify
beautify
simplify
demystify
intensify
butterfly
floating by
His spectacles were fanatic,
The way his cool sea - blue eyes peered through them.
The way even they couldn’t help but gleam when he smiled.
The black frames brought more mystery to his beautiful façade.
Oh, how I would fall for his charismatic verses over and over again.
Oh, how his rhymes, like roaring ocean waves, could both exhilarate me and horrify me.
Like his catfish hanging helplessly on a fishing wire,
His eye beaming through the frames of his glasses
Joyous of his catch,
So I would bite the bait over and over again
Just to gaze on the man with the fanatic spectacles.
Her philosophies and soul truth ran out onto the crisp white paper
In gulpy, sobby, unassuming black globs and really messy smears,
Immediately horrifying and alerting her always aware dendrites.
Are you crazy? What do you think you are doing? They demanded.
Feeling giddy with new-found independence, also, unexplain-ably weepy
The warrior princess poetess stuck out her tongue and pressed submit,
‘Twas the first of an intense series of status quo battles she would have
Releasing herself from polite societal chains, there was no stopping her!
Once long ago there was a clear blue sky
Where roamed free bird and butterfly
That’s when came the idea to super citify
And to pollution creators deify
All put their brain power to diversify
Silenced anyone who dared go awry
Soon mile high skyscrapers did gratify
And every square inch did occupy
Way too many to quantify
So it was nature they did damnify
Now skies are filled with traffic jams that horrify
Greenish rain waters that relentlessly acidify
Mountain-high billboard ads that do electrify
An extravagance of gadgets enough to stupefy
Implanted technology meant to dehumanify
In light of superfluity, let me just plainly oversimplify
Scientists need to eat a big piece of humble pie
There’s just no way to justify
Why colorful sunsets went by the by
And why no one remembers the aroma of apple pie
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Submitted on March 4, 2018 for contest SCIENCE FICTION sponsored by DEBORAH GUENTHER BEACHBOARD - HONORABLE MENTION
It was crazy.
They weren't.
They just like the whole craziness.
I guess I did, too.
It was the type of crazy,
they teach you not to talk about.
The type of crazy,
you supposedly didn't know about.
The type of crazy,
that makes you clueless as a newborn ones you hear it.
The type of crazy,
as soon as you see someone write about,
you become more informed than him.
The type of crazy,
you get the applause,
while the author gets the hissing.
They were dismayed by his actions and writings,
happy and overwhelmed with your knowledge.
The type of crazy,
that we all know,
but don't show.
Better to be quiet, play dumb in disguise,
than to be loud, smart and horrify.
I find the whole thing humorous,
wouldn't you?
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