Long Freaked out Poems
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OF WARS AND THINGS…
(A TRILOGY OF PEACE)
I
The whole world is a war and we are its
Victims; you and me…us;
Fading silhouettes of life, chasing tomorrow
In euphoric bliss…
Riding high on a giant white cloud:
A mushroom nourishing on pregnancies
Giving birth to new world war ghosts.
Living today has be indefinitely postponed;
The world has declared war on peace.
II
In psalms of dreams, webbed in the labyrinth
Time spins; praying to the fertility gods,
I stole a hole in space and planted a flower;
Mourning peace amidst
The empty shadows of wars never won.
III
They say flowers don’t grow here anymore:
Earth’s womb a victim of nuclear pus;
And her tissues of civilization lay rotting
From atomic infestation;
Military plagues mutating shells of humanity
Freaked out on self destruction.
As peace suffocates at the conference table,
God is denied a seat.
A collaboration by Tania Kitchin, Lin Lane, Jan Allison and me that was inspired by Charles Messina's recent POTD.
It's a pooper scooper; that's what we need
But I doubt they will willingly concede
It'll take jury and judge
for those who refuse to budge
No matter how many of us agreed.
Cara never wrote an honest line
Her poems just stink, they're not sublime
They all just reek like poo
Should be flushed down the loo
Needs to stop stealing poems online
Ken was so ill, thought he had a bad flu
And freaked out when he saw his poo was blue
He went to have some tests,
Praying his bowels rest
Told he ate too many berries, who knew
Poor Tania's cat pooped on the floor
Then wiped it's butt on the loo door
It's too late in the night
To see this poopy sight
Cat faeces in house folk abhor!
She lets her dog out for a pee
When under a bush she can see
A skunk ready to spray
She gets her dog away
Phew! no skunk spray on poor Ziggy.
I suggest the site be fumigated
For some who need to read it translated...
"People who post their poop
Don't belong in our group"
Hope this current trend becomes abated.
In the past folks wrote their own poetry
On display for the whole wide world to see
But many are quite sly
Use robots and AI
It's cheating and reeks of dishonesty.
Written on 4th September 2026
I remember Charlie from college,
a troublemaker par excellence,
not that Charlie intended to be,
it’s just his views were often askance.
Take, for example, the time in class
we were discussing feminism,
the professor was glad her students
were all seeing things through her prism.
But then Charlie said, “You’re looking past
the long-term effects of such thoughts,
marriage rates are down, so are birth rates,
divorce is so common it seems taught.
More single mothers mean messed up kids,
strange men in the house mean more abuse,
with no strong families to model off,
children grow up with a slanted view,
which makes it hard to form families,
which ensure that our culture survives,
are we sure modern feminism
Is a force for good in all our lives?”
The girls in the class loudly freaked out,
with the professor they piled on,
Charlie just shrugged at their vitriol.
“Your anger doesn’t mean that I’m wrong.”
Now this might have come off arrogant,
It seemed that way to me at the time,
I had not learned to appreciate
The use of a truly honest mind,
Not seen a man who valued the truth
More than woman, friendship, or real fame,
A person who could just go along,
As this next tale will help to explain:
It was another discussion,
About women joining the work force,
And how it was a great step forward,
That we should be encouraging more.
But Charlie raised his hand and spoke up,
“What is gonna happen to the kids?
Should we just entrust them to daycare,
Like our parents’ generation did?
Mental illness has skyrocketed,
And it’s become clear this plays a part,
The formative years are so vital
To a balanced mind and healthy heart.
A stay at home parent teaches them
That they are valued and loved so much
That someone will dedicate their life
To see them protected and raised up.
Why should they fight for a stranger’s time,
What negative effects will that have?
Problems when young tend to follow us
To adulthood, and that would be bad.
Man or woman, stay at home parents
Help give us people health and strong.”
They hounded him out, but he yelled back,
“Get upset, but you know I’m not wrong!”
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
I was lying on my couch resting,
As one tends to do when you have cancer,
When in came our cat with another scraggy cat in tow.
My wife was the first to notice this scraggy cat,
That had recently started hanging around,
Which I had asked my wife not to encourage.
There was our cat and the scraggy cat,
Right beside the couch just sitting there,
And staring at me.
I freaked out and shooed the scraggy cat out,
Which I now kinda wish I hadn't,
As later enquiries established,
That the cat belonged to a family down the road,
It was very old and suffered from cancer.
Now my wife suggests that our cat brought the scraggy cat around,
To take my cancer from me,
A scenario that leaves one wondering,
As there are more things in heaven and earth,
Than we could possibly imagine.
So many women I know are freaked out by germs,
And I lay the blame on the advertisers,
Who will do anything to push the product,
With 99% of their tricks not dirt or germ free.
It does not register with them that children,
Are kept off the park,
Because they played on a women's fear,
Do they not think that maybe a healthy immune system
Needs a daily dose of good clean dirt,
Not to mention the fun that goes with the rolling in it.
Hell No,
They even put kids in their adds,
And wonder why the fear is spreading,
Faster than germs ever did.
Of course, the politicians should be sharing the blame,
As they gave the advertising agencies free licence,
To create carnage and tell lies with impunity,
And let women wrap their kids in cotton wool,
And spend more money on being germ free,
Than on eating healthy.
I live in hope the day is not too far away,
When someone brings a law suit against the advertisers,
For encouraging the fear,
Before men too want to be germ free,
And there is nothing left in the garden,
But weeds.
We were told to stay home,
It wasn’t safe for our faces to be shown.
We closed the doors,
Mopped all the floors.
We stopped touching,
Freaked out if anyone was approaching.
We Stopped gathering,
Put all our effort into scattering.
We Stopped lingering too long in grocery store aisles,
Suddenly suspicious of strangers smiles.
We Stopped letting strangers get close enough to breathe the same air,
There was no more county fair.
We learned the distance between six feet and loneliness,
the difference between silence and emptiness.
And when they finally told us it was safe to come back—
some of us never really got back on track.
We returned to work,
For many a small perk.
We returned to stores,
Felt the smog return to our pores.
We returned to restaurants and crowded parking lots and birthday parties,
All while grieving those who would never reach their forties.
But something stayed behind,
Something that couldn’t be fixed with merely hitting rewind.
Maybe it was trust,
Something long since left to rust.
Maybe it was innocence,
A cold reminder of our existence.
Maybe it was the ease of being near,
Without calculating every breath we could hear.
Maybe it was conversation,
Or our patience with human interaction.
We learned to wave from a distance,
How quickly fear could become our existence.
To love through a screen,
No longer needing to primp and preen.
To say “I'm fine” When we knew what we really meant,
Our sanity forever bent.
We learned that solitude could feel like peace,
And sometimes peace was easier when everybody else would cease.
We made our homes our fortresses,
Hiding away from life's distresses.
Our phones became our windows,
Our screens became our doors.
somewhere along the way, we stopped knocking on each other's doors,
Content to just focus on chores.
The world kept moving around us,
But for some, it became less of a fuss.
Sometimes we simply learned how to move without being seen,
We lost our hospitality and became mean.
And maybe that's the strangest part—
They told us we could come back,
But for some we never really came back.
-A
Holy cadoodle, do I feel fine
Bout as happy as I can be
Just found out the lump on my back
Was a benign type of cyst you see
Worried as the biopsy was sent to the lab
Fearing the worst as humans do
Didn't sleep well for 3 or 4 weeks
But happy my wishes came true
So no need to hold my breath any longer
I'm good for another while yet
Till the next scary thing that comes along
I'll be just as freaked out, I bet
It's the way humans are or so it seems
We tend to think the worst most times
It's probably the way we protect ourselves
So if the news is bad, we're primed
Whatever's the case I can safely say
Good news is sure great to hear
When you're thinking maybe this is it
And now you've got a few more years
So holy cadoodle, it sure feels great
To be told it isn't the end
Live every moment as if it's your last
'Cause one day it will be, my friend!
©Jack Ellison 2012
I needed to take a break and get a bit of fresh air.
My daughter sat up in her hospital bed and said,
“Go on Dad, I’ll be fine in here.
But first come over here and let me give you a little hug.”
She wrapped her needle bruised arms around me, patted me on the back
And said, “I love you, doodle bug.”
As I slowly walked down the hospital corridor,
Exhausted from the weeks beside her bed,
A few strangers came up to me and,
“It’s going to be all right”, is all they said.
I walked out to the park nearby; it was a beautiful sunny day,
And a few more people passing me had the exact same thing to say.
“It’s going to be all right”, yelled a boy passing on his bike;
“It’s going to be all right”, said a girl in jogging tights;
“It’s going to be all right”, said a couple holding hands;
“It’s going to be all right”, even said a homeless man.
Now by about the tenth time or so
I was really starting to feel freaked out;
How exactly did these strangers know
I was beginning to have my doubts?
When I was told, “It’s going to be all right”
By a lady feeding the birds
I had to stop and ask of her,
“Why are you saying to me these words?”
She walked up close to me
And told me to turn around;
Then removed a sign taped to my back
With words that were written in black crayon.
“My Dad is so worried about me,
Please tell him – It’s going to be all right.”
I had to try to hold back my tears
It was a loosing fight.
We buried her yesterday,
She was only twelve years old;
I promised her that that sign she made
I would always hold.
Pain weighs me down
As painful as it seems,
I am below the surface,
Drowning in wretched dreams
A furnace of hate
Burns on, churns on
Oceans, so ominous,
Haunt me so humongous
I’m not human anymore
Unless your precious compassion
Understands me entirely
I see the world, an evil, sinister distraction
I am attracted to the dark
I’m sorry, I’m in this childlike park
Called afraid and vulnerable,
Curiosity so inescapable
Insecurities fly like fleas in my scalp
I yelp
I yell
I can tell
You can’t hear me
I scream
I am disquieted
I am under the spell
Of insidious loneliness
I am unfree possibly
Unfreeze me,
That’s my only plea as if you’ll ever help
Help me heal
Heal me cope
As I wrap myself around myself
Like a serpent-like rope
I am a menace
So I’m in my furnace
I am a vicious…
Precious little helpless…
Victim,
You predator of the deep
Seeping the energy out of me
Burn the bridges in my mindset
Don’t get me upset with regret
It’s a little steep…
How much I weep
Beep, beep, beep me out of my dream
Reality is funking me real good right now
In a funk
Inside your junk
***** skunk swells in my heart
Ripped apart
Cross the rivers in my friend ship that departs
From the death cart
Casket baskets flip me out
Freaked out by drastic, romantic, dramatic, traumatic everything
Manic in a panic
Maniac like a prick
Pick your wars of unpeace
Stick your sick fingers in my face again
I dare you
Tick tock
Corrupting me, penetrating me
Tock tick
Plucking throbs of thorns from knobbed, knitted kites…
Bug bites bleed through
Bud, bloody toothpaste due to the red dyes in my snacks
I need God’s compassion
His pensive, pure precision on my precious soul
I weed out unredemption
Hoes be surrounding me now…then, bursting like fireworks in my youthful skull
Then an old soul grows inside me
This is an urgency
I am in a crisis times an infinity
You’re screwing my energy
It’s an emergency
Apparently, nothing else matters
Apparently, you and I are no more
Fervently, I don’t care anymore
Your words, they flattered me, then it scatters
In my meandering mind of misery
It was Halloween night,
and me and my friends were playing Ouija by candlelight;
soon, every creak in the house gave me a fright,
the whole evening my growing fear I had to fight.
We said our goodbyes at midnight,
and I blew out the candles and walked up two flights;
in my bedroom, I looked in the mirror, gosh I was pale white,
I got in bed- but left the lamps on bright.
Oh yes, I was freaked out not a little but quite,
in time, I fell asleep . . . never felt the vampire bite.
____________________
October 12, 2017
Poetry/Monorhyme/It's just a Game or is IT
Copyright Protected, ID 17-949-184-01
All Rights Reserved, 2017, Constance La France
Written for the contest, Boo (2017)
sponsor, Alexis Y, First Place
Submitted to the contest, Halloween Fright Night (old or new)
sponsor, Carolyn Devonshire
First Place