Long Flam Poems
Long Flam Poems. Below are the most popular long Flam by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Flam poems by poem length and keyword.
Dumbfoundedness still prevails three weeks later...
when held spellbound courtesy grifter
Flim-flam man left lasting emotional whiplash
his derelict perfected artifice
to hijack every last cent
smarted me with indelible smash;
living daylight delivered I kidney you not
envious affliction affecting
last named member and founder of the Byrds
with crosby, stills, young and nash
entire corporeal being turned to hash
condemned state yours truly relegated,
cuz cremation unaffordable, though pulverized
and transformed into powdery ash;
Impossible mission to conceptualize
transmutation into cremains, the brain
lodged within me noggin
ill equipped to envision mine gray matter
even after asking mister Google to explain
that cremation takes place
in a specially designed furnace,
referred to as a cremation chamber or retort,
and exposed to extreme temperatures –
up to 1,800 degrees Fahrenheit–
leaving behind only ashes.
Following the procedure,
a cooling period required
before the remains can be handled.
Yours truly can best attest,
when succumbing as victim to virtual heist
I most likely flip flopped
into one percent atavistic Neanderthal state;
a surprising revelation
23andme genotyping results
yielded said presence of proto human
after analyzing DNA
courtesy saliva sample from eldest sister.
No other logical satisfactory explanation doth chime
lapsed consciousness, hence reasonable rhyme
whereat one twenty first century mortal man
virtually travelled in time
cast into nasty, shortish brute
obliging deft inducement
outsourcing valuable dough.
Though aforementioned far-fetched notion
smacks of high skepticism,
yet no more ridiculous than
hominids over bajillion years springing forth
from flotsam and jetsam in the ocean
I may as well broach another theory of creation
(just came to my mind),
that divine omnipotent wizard
sprinkled magic potion
across primordial sea
after watching an advertisement promotion
claiming said product
contained the seeds of life and white lily.
Convinced that snake oil salesman
wrought deleterious influence
triggering a debacle that rocked
the financial market,
(albeit constituting one singular naked ape),
an attorney general based in Philadelphia
believes I presented a convincing case,
which hopefully witnesses
recouping all or most of my funds.
Flim flam artists con like hackers
From the digital underworld
Scammers. Modern Thieves
Taking advantage of not just
Little ol’ ladies, but Me!
And the vulnerable gullible glue
That holds our species together
Shame on you! I cast you, you know who you are
who entertain time with waste
With the spoils of others
Internet Idiocracy is not a democracy
You, gangsters of greed
With the shameless need
To make others bleed
For your sins
I'm a $1,000 in the hole, you poor soul
I cast you
Into a special spot, the Deepest Hole
In Hell
That only one spell can break
You free
Give up your riches
Give up your chaotic chores
Give in to Jesus
He is the only Door
For any redemption
You fools!
Not tHe ENd
Am I whacked out, or what?
To actually believe
And actually, have high hopes
That someday human beings
Will just FOCUS their attention
And unite under one Earth flag
To hold up high with human half-baked intentions
Even with a modicum of enlightenment
Accomplish the Unimaginable end
Peace it all together and
Free the human spirit not by the Bomb
But by giving, each person their voice
Acknowledge the uniqueness that spawns genius
Education is everything. Never stop learning ...
Be allowed to express, even darklike King’s
Freed to believe, to hope, even grope or cling
For a better future for our grandchildren
Will it be a legacy of Liberty, or loss?
Am I a whacked out global goliath?
Or what!?
Child of God
Damn right I stand up
With my brothers and sisters
Against oppression, tyranny
And fatalistic foes
Hand in hand, with the sWORD of Christ
His piece ploys me to reveal
Something whacky
So, come join me at the outer edges of the Greens
Where dandelions and roses grow
Side by side, row by row
Stitching the seams of the Universe together
Come gets some whacky Taffy while it lasts
Off to the whacked-out Lands for Peace
Keep on sippin’ some poetrysoup
Where my whacky wisdom
Is the latest scoop
If not mine, then yours, you nincompoop
Let's get whacky in a Whackyland!
Let’s gets soupy in a poetrysoup land!
Let’s be friendly in a Friendland!
So, Keep on Sharing!
even if it’s a little whacky ...
A strong cooperative offense
is our most competitive defense.
Avoiding RightRed fascism
totalitarianism
terrorism, dark secular raptures and/or terrified jihad,
fundamental Nature is sinful, negative yin repressed,
while Spirit is health invested love, positive yang,
long-term ego/eco-centric,
bilateral co-temporal,
evenly humored humanistic divinalism.
By choosing divining higher
and humanely deeper
GreenLeft/RedRight co-regenerativity
strengthening LeftBrain's historic secular case
for more cooperative climate cleansing
by divesting of RedRight's competing disassociating divestment
away from
Divine/Humane WinWin MultiCulturing Holy Spirit
cooperative matriarchal/patriarchal outflowing natural
ZeroZone soulful
bilateral 4-Dynamic Primal Seasons
PolyNomial-GreenLeft ecology
for PolyPathic multicultural RedMountain Yang
speaks YinSquared Divine NonViolent ValleyLeft
PolyPhonic
Red light of dawning memories
co-invite Earth's Green reforesting vocation
in 4D bilateral Left/Right positive energy
democratic-trusting frame
dynamically parallel bicamerality
with resilient fractal string-structures of humane DNA
and divine RNA theological Origin
and 4-ecological ZeroZone Seasons
with 4-theological nurturing Reasons
for romantic infatuation
with Eastern outside red dawns
of post-millennial inside climate warning
and
Western indigenous Earth and tree
and Sun and moon
and Extended sanctuary family
nature/spirit worshipers,
singers,
dancers,
historians,
improv and designing artists,
designing and implementing ecologists,
creation and degeneration processors,
deep learning ecotherapeutic theologians
story-tellers of legends
sweeping cooperative neighborhoods
greeting travelers,
sojourners,
fellow walking
and flying
and swimming
and crawling eco-pilgrims
Liberally green
and conservational red night lovers
cooperatively mentored delight
avoiding tomorrow's nationalistic
ego-theistic
utterly narcissistic
BoogyMan
planting anti-historical flim/flam stories
hoping to fool all people
through all competing ZeroSum mythical time.
cellophane world...
procuring accouterment
of this and that from hither and thither
the consumeristic narcotic
rages through our pulsing veins
as we desperately try to pull on the ever-loosening reins
growing up all those years ago was easier, I do confess
with hardly a hint of all this materialistic excess
for money was tight
but the values and principles instilled in us were right
values to cherish the human-ness of all
the simple pleasures of this life
beyond the haute-couture and glittering flim-flam
for what is all this
if not a carefully constructed sham
so as I walk along the aisles today
I cringe at the so much designed for the so few
while the multitudes of the teeming people
stand at the wayside
disconsolately deafened by the tolling bells of the steeple
and yet...
there must be a better, less ostentatious way
to live and love and cherish and embrace
each other, distanced from the plastic fakery that we witness each and every day
for the truth that rages deep within every heart
yearns for a coming together of souls
a bounteous celebration of togetherness, a simple bond
of people sharing those intrinsic values
of
love
compassion
comfort
these are the simple yet ever-so elusive desires buried within each and every heart of ours
while we scurry around like giddy inebriated plunderers
innured to the passing of the moments and months and weeks and hours
so
could it be too much to call for restraint
to merely sit back for some time and quietly reflect
on
what is true
and
on what is the essence of being alive
in this glittering mirage that is the place
this world
this fairground of tricks and of treats and of designer labels and the branded name-tag
that mutilates our spirit while our shopping bags sag
maybe
we will then see that the truth is so much simpler
to love and be loved for who one truly is
for to be simply human
is what we desperately miss...
Form:
Well I don't want to even think about the world today
I'd rather take a little break and make a way to play
When end to ending has no end well then my friend retreat
To find a better time to mine the wisdom of defeat.
Today the life-size Trumpy dolls
Are selling fast in discount malls.
They come in only orangey white,
For Trump the color scheme is right.
Accesories include: red ties,
old man-tan cans, ten books on lies.
And if a bit more coin you bid,
He'll name you every whore he did.
His list is long and trending white -
Except exotic ethnic night.
The only arty deal he's made
Was made in Moscow getting laid.
He bargains down, each lustful thrust,
To screw the screwed like Trumpy's must.
So fans of Trump I'll tell you true
He doesn't give one whit for you.
You say he's not of Washington
And wants to change how things are done.
Well I agree the time is due
To find new minds who'll serve us true.
But we should really all disdain
An egocentric, crazy brain.
And that is why a Donald lie
Will Trump a lie from you or I.
He says he loves our fighting force,
This dodger of the draft of course.
He was a coward during war -
What makes you think he is no more.
I don't believe he is sincere,
A latent bully bringing fear
The day our towers were brought down
Trump hears the Muslim cheers in town.
Another fabricated fact
Made foul by one who lacks in tact.
It is the way Trump fosters hate;
Embellish then prevaricate.
To me the only thing a fan
Can boast about this flim-flam man
Is that he has'nt started war -
But given time - he'll give you more.
Some faces may be turning red
In anger at the words I've said,
But friends I hope my diatribe
Is taken as a slight aside.
I give you words to mull around
Inside the pride we all have found
By sharing freedom's liberty
In search of commonality.
The Electoral College
By Franklin Price
9/17/2017
The Electoral College is outdated they say
Should never have been, and is not for today
They say that the people are not having their way
That the College votes wrong, for the right kind of pay
Do those people who say that, understand why it's there?
Do they know what would happen, or do they even care?
Is the majority vote, always something that's fair?
Keep your mind open, as you read this, I dare.
We are a republic, not a democracy
Government is by the people in this land of the free
But there are fifty states, in this country you see
All have an interest, not only just three
Each state independent and each has its rights
If you think that's not true, think of Civil War fights
The people, of all states, must each have a say
If the College was gone that would not be the way.
The Federal based government does not give a damn
About ones in Alaska, might as well be Siam
Not enough people to get their flim flam
Or add to their power and get them more ham
We're in need of less power in that Washington place
Each state should have rights, and their spot in the race
Isn't it time for less egg on our face?
To govern this country with style and with grace
To do away with the College would make matters worse
Larger states would have deeper hands in our purse
More budget to them would cause small states to curse
Already pay taxes that are not reimbursed
You can see less have more in this land of the rich
They need not pay taxes, trickle down is their pitch
Taxes come from the middle and there life's a *****
If the college was gone, it would add to the glitch
The College should stay, if we really care
For each of the states and the residents there
If we really are interested and want to be fair
Make the Feds less controlling of the laws in their lair
(sung – in a round pussy willow warble - to the tune of --
Oh Where Oh Where has my little dog gone)
With a flam boy hunt deft jais nais sais quois
firm lickey split tongue
and two bell yule yar pissant
little nappy ruck berry filled up paul ling sacks
viz peppy la pew doth not peter out,
and weathers clawed rained swipes
from hello kitty when faux pas gets swung
assisting climbing Jacob's ladder
(without pussy footing,
orb bing a putz like the president)
advancing quick to attain orgasmic rung
while heading into a slippery sloping sluice
(with prickly endeavor emitting cleat trill
smooth sailing along a ****
re coarse upon phallic shaped pung
crossing la brea tar pits (peppered
with lai bee ha tricky bridge over the River Kwai)
comprising ideal place de la resistance
to woo tang clan foreign nee Kate,
where two puckered rill lee fleshy ruffling rills
tinged pinkish lips overhung
a challenging escarpment,
where many a brave Tom, Harry or Dick get hung
up, particularly while searching for fabled “G” spot,
cuz portcullis hamstrung
even the most fiercely determined
Engleburt Hump per dink
necessitating the moist risky ski maneuver
as most studs know tubby gelandesprung
though booby prize wool worth any slimy setbacks,
where sticky gook gets flung
from angry cat,
who does not in the least find amusing,
and if further pricked with rage
not averse to hurl dung
gar (with) ease at snaky,
retractable hardened beastie boy twill clung
for dear life and limb (er, or twig and berries),
while applying crampons (bivouaced
within his maxipad), viz bung
gull low, essentially a ball peen size cove
hammered out by Dashiell Hammitt, where coiled,
kinked follicles strewn tightly inlet among
pheromone laced verboten fruit.
Form:
They keep watching
Forever observing
Constantly snooping
As the public keeps on fuming
For our safety we are watched constantly
Electronic eyes unable to account
For the nuances of human behaviour
Infiltrate all aspects of living
Criminalizing us
Laying bare all our sins
Intrusive watchmen abound
Debasing all ideas of privacy
Our misdemeanours forever present in cyberspace
We can never repent nor forget
What should be hidden and laid to rest
Our liberty is easily seduced from us
With the promise of big brother's
Constant all seeing
And comforting eyes
His broad shoulders will forever
Protect us from the ghost of an unknown future
All this is just a palaver
The all intrusive camera on every street
Replaces the curtain twitching busy bodies
Of yesterday
We are always naked
Baring all to a hidden authoritarian
Who wants to eat away at our soul
The value of protection today
Is a necessary cost ever present in our mind-set
We must have no peace in these turbulent times
The attraction of emotional safety
Trumps petty squabbles over rights
Fear of terrorism
Results in ego trips from those in authority
Them who wish to bolster their popularity
By smothering us with hysterical flam
That we so gratefully believe
Anxiety rules the day
And will always keep common sense at bay
No one wants to loudly stand up and say
Please stop looking and go the hell away
A totalitarian philosophy permeates authority
The aim is to control every aspect of living
They are forever craving servitude
From us who think their intrusion is so rude
Being watched and analysed
Does not only happen in a totalitarian state
Everywhere you go liberty
Is at stake
Who will save us from this disgrace?
Flim-Flam dances to the beat of a drugged out drummer
Her moves are suggestive and sometimes vulgar
Her hands are soiled and damp holding onto the grimy pole
She’s topless and her dancing is like a listless puppet performing a role
She has a striking body and her hair is curly and luxuriant
It makes patrons’ thoughts lean towards prurience
As the evening lumbers on, Flim-Flam’s dancing slows to a crawl
She’s tired, hungry and wants to curl up and bawl
A huge man approaches the stage sneering at her with tight dark eyes
He’s obese, sweaty, dirty, and wears an obscene leather tie
Flim-Flam looks down and backs up in mortal fear
It’s her stepfather; he’s found her; he staggers as he leers
He hollers. “Got ya, Gal, you gonna be sorry you ran away – you hear?”
He grabs at Flim-Flam, but a bouncer steps in with a bone-crushing slam
Her stepfather pulls a hunting knife bellowing and slashing
But the bouncer is bigger, fitter, and not afraid of grabbing
Crazed bullies, liquored, riled up and flailing
The bouncer drops the stepfather to marry the floor
Disarms him, pins him while hollering, “Flim-Flam, get out the back door”
Slamming into the bouncer’s 4x4, Flim-Flam hunkers down weeping
She hears sirens, people shouting, cursing, tires screeching
She hears the Miranda given just before she slides into oblivion
A gentle hand shakes her awake, it’s the bouncer, his name is Jake
Her new husband smiles with kindness, his love shining forth
“We’re going north to the farm where I was born and want to live my life
With you by my side, not “Flim’Flam”, but Grace Marshall, my wife
He holds her close whispering, kissing, reassuring
“Va-Va-Voom” disappears; a happy ending, a promising beginning.
What, Where, Who
If I where asked the what, where, who
That drives me to write poetry
I’d say that if I only knew
I’d leave right now this misery
But I’m afraid I’m not the sort
To answer in straight fashion
I have to offer my retort
With words of heartfelt passion
For just the other day I found
Encounter gave me food for thought
Soon the words they were outbound
Jumbled as they rushed and fought
Though ne’er the less inspired me
To battle on my way
Look toward the end and see
Which words I could display
Confess do I quite openly
That I am ignorant
Of poetry’s technology
Coz grasp it I just can’t
I wouldn’t know a what’s it called
From a what’s its name
In my mind won’t stay installed
Confusion is its game
But I somehow, find I can
Muddle through at best
Organise a crafty plan
And set my brain the test
For out there I see loneliness
Suffering and pain
A world in turmoil and distress
That cannot stake its claim
I look for every trait in man
Into the soul I stare
At his betrayal and flim-flam
Also the ladies fair
Dear love will always be there
And so will Demon war
And my thoughts on these I’ll share
Of that you can be sure
Laughter I would hope to bring
Sadness sometimes to the fore
Of natures forces I will sing
The list goes on galore
Yes I will write throughout the night
With hope to de-confuse
I’ll try to offer some insight
By giving up my muse
So now you know the what and where
But what about the who
Inspiring people are out there
Who knows - it could - be you
And what about that misery
I spoke of up above
Well, I gave that up for music
Of the poetrysoupers love x