Long Bear the brunt of Poems

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Donald Trump Re Ducks I Goose

Axe the old Don, a trump peter n piper
   of incredulous hellish crud - be gone
ha air brushed pompous ****
   Sunkist in Macy's window 

   then like a jackal hound, he doth run
after public outcry yelps
   for his hide leaving  
   proletarian discord re: pyrrhic victory won.

Donald Duck Trump ™$ - a pompous ass
makes war with his big brass
knuckles and bucket of crass
maligns vis a vis character assassination
   while kissing thing kith

   darting forked tongue sharp as bro kin glass
inciting banal deathly hallowed 
   expletives toward lass
sees – especially Fox Television
   news anchor woman Megyn Kelly
(quite so many ill mannered indiscretions ago)

inducing said personality
   to bear the brunt of brutish mass
of vitriolic n vile insults sacrilegiously 
   maliciously, noxiously, opprobiously 

   incriminating, hellaciously, 
   desecrating opportunistically as hiss oh piss 
so…NO amp pull VOTE of confidence from me
(thus far ohm host halfway to 2020 election 
   toward such a volt char quite rude, snooty
   arrogant simian with sass.

I van (terribly hard pressed) 
   to describe while sitting on me rump
how he oh bomb in lee rages
   gnashing false teeth 
   Wilma backside doth slump
still blasting Democratic nomination 
   (pa hill a reed) as sham –

from special interest bro and sis turn pump
he, the epitome of
   crass bloviation, a malignant lump
whose rants,
   sans presidential outcome a shame 
bullying with his millions beds this,

that and another woman to bareback jump
disseminating gene pool 
   birthing more Quakers
   and additionally doth hump
the mass media as some foolhardy charade

and caricature of a frazzled grump
this arboreal clothed ape erected Taj Mahal
   phallic symbol, where players dump
and gamble away hard earn cash

for his kitty, as if that cachet 
   to grind and bump
lambasting with maniacal
   like "Stormy Dan" yells

   leering oafish ill pout 
   while hair rum 
   (of red follicular) bulls ad hocks
atop his bulbous aerosol sprayed locks
resemble a flock 
   of bronzed sea gulls mocks

heady measly shaped Muppet Ox
dis eased cranial hologram shocks
of a cretaceous, facetious tocks
(sic) exogenous, insidious, and obstreperous vox.
Form: Imagism


Premium Member Some Day I'M Coming Back

Some Day I’m Coming Back


The things that made us who we are
aren’t written in a book
nor do the things they gave us
equal what they took.
Hands that rocked the cradle
soon left welts behind
the harshness of their laughter
made it less than kind.
Priest at Sunday dinner
guest at a meal he’s leeching
washed down with Irish whiskey
and the ******** that he’s preaching
of the sacred and the pious
and all the souls he saves,
bite your cheek and do not utter,
kiss their ass though they are knaves.
Walk the streets in other’s clothing
knowing that it once was new,
bear the brunt of other’s laughing
at the coat and not at you.
Grit your teeth and sheath your anger
for you must be kind and meek
when just once you’d like to give them
the beating that they seek.
Harden heart and nerve and sinew
refuse to knuckle under
protect whatever’s left
from the hands of gods that plunder.
Savor freedom’s single breath
view escape through dungeon’s crack
holding tight to rage’s mantra
“some day I’m coming back”.



John G. Lawless
for Vicky Tsiluma
contest – I’ll Be Back

Premium Member Corporate

Humiliation from my superior chair,
Company HR adding to the insult,
Is that the corporate world ??

Keeping my temper all time low and attuned,
Not able to bear the brunt of hostility,
Lacrymals activate in humility, a decade's victory.

Not reckoning the dedication and quality work,
Just to gratify their false egotism,
These dictator bosses purposely recidivate.

A vain hope to work in congenial environ,
To work with innovation and prosper is an irksome distress,
Individual's ladder, lacks concern for the civilised.

Incorrigible illusion to serve humanity,
And take country ahead in unison beyond the infinite,
Sorry, but that's the corporate world !!!

But now determined as I stand, 
though a tiny drop in vast ocean,
Facing all odds like a solid rock,
Revert to normal taking road to revolution.





Written long back, not a single comment.
Now entered for contest 'This poem really s***s' by Jerry T Curtis

Dump the Dump

New York City has a plan
To build a “transfer station;”
Such a pleasant moniker
For so much aggravation.

For in more realistic terms,
They really mean a dump.
Giving it a fancy name
Won’t even fool a chump.

Tons of smelly garbage
Will arrive in endless trucks
Bringing traffic, rats and noise
And costing mega-bucks.

A local center used by schools
And camps for recreation
Will bear the brunt of all the evils
Of this “transfer station.”

The residents who live nearby
Have argued and appealed,
But lack of empathy
From Speaker Quinn* has been revealed.

No neighborhood should suffer
When folks’ health is on the line.
I hope somebody’s listening,
For this neighborhood is mine!

*New York City Council Speaker
Form: Rhyme

Held Together, Falling Apart

I am filled with rage and frustration. I’m doing my best, pushing forward with everything I have, yet I feel forced to halt my own progress. In a tempestuous fury, I question you.

I lead, I strive, and every step feels like a battle with you. You have it easy, assuming I’ll shoulder everything while you play ignorant, yet you know exactly how to get what you want. Do you see me as a fool, or am I just a convenient toy someone to be picked up and discarded at will?

Must I always be the one to carry the weight of every decision? I try to think ahead, to use my mind, but it feels as though I’m holding everyone’s hand, mapping out every step, every outcome. It’s always on me. I am the one who must bear it all, and I’m about to explode.

I have my own struggles, my own conditions to manage but who’s there for me? I’m the one who must bear the brunt of the pain. That’s what it means to be a man, isn’t it? To sacrifice, to endure, to stand unyielding.

That’s it. That’s the life we’re told to lead.


Now Donald Trump Must Be Permanently Barred and Furloughed From Hoar Re: Whitehouse - Part Ii

DONALD TRUMP – RE: DUCKS --
this portion dashed off
(while dry ving an open white hearse slay
so many months back before
slated him slotted the most coveted
Casino biggest win - before the political imbroglio
much more upsetting than today
- - - - - - - - - -
Axe the old don
A trump peter n piper of incredulous hellish crud - be gone
With the ha air brushed pompous ****
so the Macy jackal hound doth run
After public outcry yelps
for his hide and proletarian discord won!
- - - - - - - - - -
Donald Duck Trump ™$ - a pompous ass
makes war with his big brass
knuckles and bucket of crass
maligns vis a vis character assassination with bro kin glass
inciting banal deathly hallowed expletives
toward lass sees – especially
Fox Television news anchorwoman Megyn Kelly
inducing said personality to bear the brunt of brutish mass
of vitriolic n vile insults from incriminating verbal pass
so…ex post facto viz mine NO VOTE from me
thus this digital screed to disallow him
to accept the oath of office, cuz he will hurrahs
from such a snooty arrogant simian with sass!
- - - - - - - - - -
I van a try to describe while sitting on me rump
How he oh bomb in lee rages with gnashing teeth
while back a slump
Blasting Democratic nomination as a sham –
From special interest bro and sis turn pump
He, the epitomy of crass bloviation, a malignant lump
Whose rants sans presidential outcome a sham rocking red bull
in a China shop with his millions beds this,
- - - - - - - - - -
That and another woman to bareback jump
Disseminating gene pool –
Obama null lee birthing more Quakers
and additionally doth hump
The mass media as some foolhardy charade
And caricature of a frazzled grump
This arboreal clothed ape
Erecting Taj Mahal phallic symbol where players dump
And gamble away hard earn cash
- - - - - - - - - -
For his hello kitty, as if that cachet to grind and bump
Lambasting with that maniacal leering pout
while hair rum runs rampant with red bulls
In a China shop atop his bulbous aerosol sprayed heady measly shaped
ulterior motive aimed his sights to become Pastor of Muppets
Dis eased cranial hologram
Of a cretaceous, facetious and insidious mump.
 
----------------------------------------------------------
 
By: Baron von Ivan Mal N. Ya.
Form: Narrative

The Hypocrite

Consistently inconsistent
Responsibly irresponsible
Flies among the birds
Yet the rat is his shape...
... The hypocrite...

The truthful liar
A pious criminal
Belongs to the two ends
Mouth: Two sided
Leaking words...
... The hypocrite...

Healthy but sick
Hungry but full
He is the foolish wise
Himself he deceives
Abeit thinking the world he deceiveth
He knoweth not
Full or not
He hath his stomack...
... The hypocrite...

Black nor white
Here nor there
Hence nor thence
He is.
... The hypocrite...

He tells them
That he hates us.
Us he tells
Hateful are they to him!
Inside his belly,
Both sides he had cheated
He hath the gain
Or so he thought...
... The hypocrite...

Then he enjoins good
But he is immersed in same.
He hath disease
Yet he admit not.
Help he yet refuse
From those who knows.
To others,
He is the best...
... The hypocrite...

For him
Is a great torment
Which he knoweth not...
... The hypocrite...

Let's cure the world
Of this scourge
Lest we all
Bear the brunt of this disease
Called...
... Hypocrisy...

Ranking Teachers

In an ill-advised decision,
Educationally dumb,
New York City’s ranked its teachers,
Which defies the rule of thumb.

For the whole world now has access
To the way each teacher scored,
Though I thought humiliation
Was a means to be deplored.

Only math and English teachers
Bear the brunt of this new rule,
Which eliminates most pedagogues
Who work in every school.

What’s the basis of the rankings?
Well, it’s simple yet pathetic – 
Results of standard city tests,
Supposedly prophetic.

A teacher may be patient, smart,
Creative or exciting;
She may inspire thinking minds
Or brilliant bursts of writing.

But all of that won’t mean a thing
If students’ scores are flat;
‘Cause politicians are convinced
Exams are where it’s at.

It doesn’t matter if the kids
Have problems or are poor;
The teacher is the one at fault
When there’s a sub-par score.

And now the public has the chance
To check each teacher’s name;
A ranking near the bottom means
They know just who to blame.

My question to the city is,
For teachers who scored low,
If branding them on websites
Is the proper way to go.

For people are so quick to judge
When labels are applied.
I know I’d feel like Hester Prynne,
With no place safe to hide.

Like educators everywhere,
I’m shocked, appalled, dismayed.
To those in charge who pushed this through,
You get a failing grade!
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Dear Heart

« Long love struck with the shape of you 
Captivated by your carmine hue » M.L.


I bow to every beat you undertake,
I rise to rhythm you race up for my sake,
I thank persistent pulse that has no break, 
I laud enormous effort that you make, 
I am blessed you keep me live and awake, 
I apologize for all the heartache. 

You bear the brunt of battles all my life, 
You smoothly soften my struggles with strife, 
You finesse my fluctuating feelings,
You smoothly soothe my drudgery dealings, 
You endure trials and triumphs, dusk to dawn, 
You are oft turned off but your beat goes on. 


P.S. With your vital vigour I am in awe - 
       For every breath you kindly let me draw. 

January 27, 2023
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Dear Heart

My Dear Heart,

I owe you the gift of love and gratitude 
for each beat you take to keep me alive,
and for all the times you've been hurt
by bad decisions I made that wounded you.
You always heal, but I know you feel
the distress that sometimes left deep scars.

You bear the brunt of my unbridled emotions,
and yet your devotion to me is unswerving.
We have a mutual admiration society of two,
and so often it's been just me and you.
One heart, one mind, we share a soul.

The one time when you lost all control,
I could not deter you from what you sought.
Oh, dear heart, I dare not blame you
for needing to be loved. Desire is a banquet
that you served me to feast on for a while.
And for that time, I smiled as never before,
but beguile was an act of hardship and sorrow
that I swore we'd not go through again.

What disdain we felt, and in prayer I knelt
that suffering would end and mend our grieving.
Only by believing in you did I make it through
the grief and disdain, the vulnerability and pain.

I owe you my life, and on it I earnestly pledge
never to cause you harm that I can prevent.
No walking through life on the edge of a knife,
no stress will I place beyond what you can bear.
I promise you this.   I solemnly swear.

With cherished love and devotion...


January 29, 2023
Dear Heart Contest
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.

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