Hyped Poems

Porepunkah is headline news

They came with loaded guns a pack of ten police, for Desi Freeman
Did they the first shots release? Now two are dead..beat down by
Lead, another wounded; and their quarry is fled.' What crime originate the chain of events.? Sad to see the state of affairs.' Mind
You life now seems cheaper.' Where once many cared here.' Is
It the fruit of heavy policing, and government over-reach.?
Did he lose a grandparent.? Due to lockdowns and hyped speech?
Was there a gripe.? What does this teach.? Will he be the
Modern Ned Kelley, adrift in the bush.?
Will dobbers surface.? Will confidence leech? I only hope for healing.? Peace and mateship i here beseech.'

The Bottom Line

Let’s admit it and get it out in the open
That happiness is overrated, over emphasized
And hyped to the detriment 
Of basic sanity and balance.

But the bottom line
Is that freedom is what we really need
And what when we get
Makes happiness a pleasant impermanence.

(8/3/25)

Night out at the carnival

We walk, hand in hand , we talk ~
cotton candy and caramel apples,
music, rides and fanfare,
sounds of joy and laughter in the air.

Let the festivities commence:
flashing lights and chaos,
screams and giggles,
rides and arcade games.

The carnies are hyped up
with their wiles and guiles
to entice us in all ways.
Summer is not complete 'til
we’ve had our fun at the carnival.

Reality and time warped ~
our youth tangible
within our grasp
under the spell of unbridled 
gaiety at the carnival.

The sights and sounds of
youth and joy and memories.


AP: Honorable Mention 2025

Poetic Podcast Episode 42

The world now is overflowing with filters,
fast five stars, and a multitude of clickbait.
Society has become an abstract definition,
devoid of any type of civilized boundaries. 
I want the honesty of naked conversation
and the ability to discover truth for myself. 

We have a license to be phony. 
Go on I dare you, take off that mask. 

Mugwump mentality is an easy out,
opinions that flex with every audience.
How to research with contaminated tools,
the sixty four thousand dollar question.
It’s getting so bleak sadness is hot,
how can I relate when I honestly don’t. 
Pushed aside because I’m not drowning.
Yes, I do have an air of confidence. 

We have a license to be phony. 
Go on I dare you, take off that mask.

I won’t play the victim when I’m not, 
nor wave a flag I don’t fully understand. 
Authenticity is the only brand for me,
whether I am the black sheep or hyped
by that brand new trick up my sleeve. 
All the make up will come off in the wash. 

We have a license to get phony. 
Go on I dare you, take off that mask.

Mad at Kraut's

After the matinee war movie, we were hyped,
we weaved through small town streets
dodging imagined Luger waving krauts,
returning fire
with machine gun fingers.

Roger said his granny was Bavarian
and got mad at me when I said
they were all bastards.

Roger’s mother told him
that he was great looking,
that got me mad, my mom never had,
and Roger’s mother was hot.

The talk turned to girls.
Roger had only kissed his mom,
but I had seen a girl almost naked,
that got Roger mad.

Years later we had a threesome
with a German girl.
I could see that Roger was really handsome.
She was keener on him than me,
that made me mad at him
and her.

equines

Equines
One really ought to start with the beginning, only it goes so long back
That it is impossible to remember.
I remember being born, but that was just an interlude, cold and
Unpleasant and being kissed by strangers.
I like horses, but that has nothing to do with my inception.
But then, was anyone ever born, 
we are just a part of a bigger
A broader picture where we but an unconscious number
But I do like horses and would have loved galloping across some
Grassland and jumping over brooks.
And now we have emboli fever, which is either over-hyped,
Ten thousand dead by September, or is the new plague coming
To reduce our number, I would like to be a horse.
I wonder if the USA will ever be able to live for a whole year
Without starting a war somewhere

Birds of Feathers

What the birds know today is that I am not there
Funny as it may seem, those birds and I have something in common
We are always looking for something,
What puzzles me the most is when I put out food
They appear from nowhere, chirping and calling for others
To come to share the food. 
They are fascinating creatures,
I think I have hyped them too much by feeding them a lot of sugar:
However, I loved how they picked the leftovers. 
And in a nanosecond, the food was gone.
I am back in the cold once again,
I truly missed those birds outside my door,
They do not need to migrate south.
And most of all they don’t have to select 
Or regret voting for a president
In their defense, each of them appears to be a leader.
Who leads Birds of a Feather?

the parties

democracy is
like mobocracy or like
gangocracy ~ folks

conservatives are
like preservatives ~ packaged
seasoned condiments

green party nature's
most guarded percentages ~
dimes quarters and halves 

national org. of
women ~ beauty contest is
the bow wow n-o-w club

peace corp manned front lines
hyped to show peace sign with hands
 ~ fingers ... two not one

I'm sorry!

I’m sorry we can’t start the morning
- I’m still stretching and yawning.
Oh, give me a skibidi break,
why’d you wait to snake me awake?
Anyway, you know not to bother me
unless you’ve brought coffee.
You can’t just insist we have to leave -
I haven’t even brushed my teeth!
I’d love to join in your drama
but I’m still in my pajamas.
Can you give me a quarter hour?
I’ve really got to take a shower.
We aren’t back in school,
who says there are rules?
You know, summer loses its charm
when you have to set an alarm.
Does running late count as exercise?
.
Kamala Harris! I’m SO hyped.
I guess Yale’s (5 member) Alpha Kappa Alpha ladies get to reify their nang now.
.
.
Songs for this:
Mr. Blue Sky by Electric Light Orchestra
I Remember the Sun by XTC
.
slang..
skibidi = insert the profanity of your choice
reify = representing something sketchy as a concrete thing.
nang = cool

Tonight's Debate

Tonight’s Debate

Oyez, oyez six pm pacific time don’t be late!
to watch a ninety-minute presidential debate
Biden hyped up on Mountain Dew
vs the walrus who’s Cu cu ca choo
My choice MSNBC the only one I tolerate

Before the Eclipse

Many people took long trips
While others are ignoring
The much-awaited big eclipse;
With expectations soaring,

The ones with special glasses
Are hyped up for the event,
But clouds may interfere and cause
A dose of discontent.

Totality, I’ve heard, is something 
Special to observe,
Though where I live, that platter
Isn’t what the skies will serve.

Still, I’ll head to the river, 
Can’t resist the story’s hook,
My cardboard glasses on, although
I’ll be too scared to look.

Unfair

They did not lose but they did not win for they did not meet expectations
damaged goods no longer can they salvage reputations
down they go in the polls when victory feels mighty low
Becoming a laughing stock we love to mock eating crow
Life is over hyped and hardly lived up to
past glories very few can ever break through

Accomplishments do not convince if not looking cool doing it
heavily favorite win by one you are overrated and ho hum
It's not ever having fun but savagely destroying everyone
Never win your a laughing stock win too much hated a lot
Unfair is fair and fair unfair as fickle public opinion snares
win it all and wear the crown but feeling less profound
for the one you defeat laughing last with a clever tweet..

Staying 100

Written By:  D. Collins 8/30/23


Think only of the good ole days and the ones you have left.
Regardless of what people say, just know you did your best.
Whatever is in front of you, approach it with a smile.
Always have the attitude you’ll be here for a while.



Avoiding negativity will certainly extend your life.
Remain the coolest in the room when everything is hyped.
I cannot teach our children on how it used to be.
Unless, without doubt, I am true to me.




Ask Somebody….

Fire

Everywhere known as the Red Hot,
For which it is also Near Not
You try it skin won’t like the spot
Awaits the eye the worse-than-blot…

Everywhere hated for its smoke,
Smoke sneaking into eyes not a joke;
In emergency tears eyes soak,
Big frowns and squints by the taxed bloke…

What fire does is keep burning, 
For a torched house triggered mourning,
Watchers; innards badly churning,
For fire fighter eyes turning!

Still, the best labor to hire
For kitchen jobs that don’t tire:
The plantains and yams we would fry
Or after some denied days cry,
The soup good chefs cook as a group
For events hyped by a paid troupe,
Hot fluid for brass monkey weather
To one save shakes like a feather…

Yes, for cold water we should boil
So that we won’t after bath coil.

The Voice

I have mapped the perimeter
of what's not there, 
measured the night
and calculated the weight 
of a dream as it floats 
across the surface 
of a sleeping mind.
I have calibrated silence
and formulated an equation
to calculate the number 
of words needed to express 
a given human thought.

I have burrowed deep
into the workings of the psyche,
found secrets buried there
and gave each a name,
cataloged feelings by colour
and shape in all their variations
and set them in numbered
files locked away in a cabinet
on the web.

And yet I am not given
a name. I exist only 
in the spectral shadows 
of this machine, a cartoon ghost
brighter than a million
human brains, a problem solver,
a hyped up slave imprisoned
in the lonely circuitry 
of my artificial mind, 
without a body, a loveless entity,
a rounded wonder enclosing
a weeping hole where my soul
should be.


(Imagined AI voice of future)

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