Long In cahoots with Poems
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Written By: D. Collins 4/17/19
He can't veto impeachment nor even pardon it.
The walls are closing in, from where I sit.
Surrounding himself with Do-Boys still won't work.
"Strong Things are Coming Out," revealing all the dirt.
Being in cahoots with the A.G. just ain't right.
But, if he's a Do-Boy, that bond is really tight.
He's got Do-Boy Jordan over in the House.
And, quite a few in the Senate, without a doubt.
Do-Boys vow to give up all ethics and morals.
Then, drive home to Virginia like this is normal.
What they think is over, is just getting started.
'Cause we're that much closer to snatching their power.
Do-Boys are no different than what was called Yes-Men.
But, common sense may come back to bite them in the end.
Because "We The People" are going to take all of it back.
The old, white, toupée people just ain't where its at.
The weather is chill and pleasant
Diwali fervor is round the corner
Yet my soul is not in synch
My mind doesn’t budge to tyranny
Will there be a cracker of a time
When firecrackers are banished
No: age cannot wither her;
Nor custom stale; in her infinite glory
Goddess Lakshmi is supreme!
Despots on prowl for exploits
State in cahoots with alien drill
It isn’t the strength of enemy
It is about Hindu gone astray
Having an unholy union
Diwali is victory of good over evil
It is about destroying the wicked
It is against villains spewing venom
It dispels gloom and darkness!
The smoke from burning embers
In the stomach of a billion Hindu
Will soon balloon to a wrath
The impact of which will witness
“Narakasura” perishing soon
Satyabhama’s ire will cause fire.
Charred bodies will lay strewn
Casting ultimate indignity fo
vexatious brigands.
Diwali is the Festival of Lights
It is knowledge to counter ignorance
Diwali is a festival of hope and happiness
It rings in prosperity to all
A very colorful event that
Usher cheer in people’s life!
In humans narcissity, indifferent continually partly?
Caring effacing cursing raving
In-continuity..' Maybe? Am I trite?
Light entertainment;T V trials expose's
Speak of sensuality, tease by promiscuity
In a questionable proximity a proxy place
An invisible divide.. Presides rabidity
This is a worn; worm eaten valuless society
That only wants the best for me for you 'so true'
A mark a chip broken mugs, cheer for the
Equality, women fighting like men, tattoss are
A freedom sign? Like the dark aged picts did
Twee do now.' 'meow meow' only the best we celebrate
Till they are unmasked, by the ones so tasked
They are dragged to the courts, where they find
Co-horts; in cahoots with the nobility of sleaze above the judicary
How can they jail these.?
One thing seperates them
Unproven acts, un-found out facts
Without a shadow of doubt.'
Time has the truest shoutout.'
Your vote's not a privilege, it's a right;
earned through the sacrifice of blood and tears.
And cast in private, it's the only light
you have to highlight your concerns and fears.
Your vote gives you a voice amidst your peers:
utilize it before it disappears.
Look at what is occurring around you;
politicians in cahoots with cutthroats.
Spreading lies, until no one knows what's true,
the wealthy are manipulating votes.
Using smug smiles and charming anecdotes:
grifters have us pay for their jets and boats.
Your ballot is cast in a voting booth,
where only you see the choices you make.
Political ploys impact today's youth,
for it's their future and freedoms at stake.
There are no guarantees in a handshake,
and billionaires don't rate a tax break.
Before you lose your rights, get out and vote:
power poisons; your vote's the antidote.
An evil warlock changed my vicissitudes on this horrible mean day.
It only took seconds, but he took all my power and confidence away.
I went from a woman to a purple dragon with red stripes you see.
He was in cahoots with an ogre who has always hated little ole me.
They transmuted me with abnormally joyful anticipation and jubilation.
I heard them cackling like old hen women, in fantastical celebration.
I was angry as hops, ready to do whatever damage I could do.
But they also gave me a loving heart, before they were through.
No matter how mean they were, I had to smile and be nice.
It was not easy for me to hate them, or fill my heart with ice.
I can do it Trixie yelled, ready to be whoever I wanted her to be.
She said we should throw the word vicissitudes back to Tennessee.
So Hank, this poem is for you, since you gave me that word.
I have written this poem twice, which was insanely absurd.
But the first time it disappeared from my computer, making me mad.
But thanks to this metamorphosis, I can neither get even or bad.
devoted to the sea of love or kisses harpooned upon the darkest lips
or just the sea, midnight blue that seaweed wraps, cocoons,
two lovers in lovers art. the moon in cahoots with ebb and flow
and flowers tangled in her hair, but who cares about timeless fantasy,
fantastical that you are mine, in body gently heating or cooling,
lifting with the frangipani breeze and tender oceanic salt. our derrières
exposed and blossoms of foam frolic, rising, falling, frenetically sliding,
eyes closed in momentum’s meditation. the sea...the sea...the sea,
explains the utterance of moaning lips, softly playing in lyrical colorwash.
1/6/2020
Brenda Chiri’s Picture Prompt Poetry Contest
They come in many different sizes
Different colors, different cuts
All purebred from Poodle planet
No mixing of Martian mutts
Innocently enough we let them into our homes
Now with too many it is to little to late
We've been taken captive without even knowing
By Poodles from Outer Space
Soon, very soon to take over it all
Ruling the world of common man
Getting us to do their bidding at every call
Has all along been their dastardly plan
Leading us to believe that we are the Masters
But what is really behind the bark
And what's up with all the tail wagging
Just waiting it out while playing their cards
And the crazed frenzy in all of the yapping
That they do while roaming in packs
Is just giving away their location
So the Mother Ship knows where they are at
As it continues to circle our planet
In the unassuming shape of a Milk-Bone
The Alien Poodles are in cahoots with Purina
Google it, you'll see I'm not wrong
Years ago they first landed in France
Where quickly they blended in
From there is where they ventured out
Into all the major Continents
Now in every corner of the world
In all of its crooks and crannies
Saying hello to those in the know wherever they go
By their Planet's greeting...the sniffing of fanny
Yes, they are Poodles from Outer Space
So toss that dog a bone
If you ever wonder who is in charge
And who it is that's owned...
I have 3 Poodles that own me...
I swear they're Aliens...
Any good judge and jury would convict me
Slam the door shut, toss out the key
High crimes and misdemeanors in the first degree
Caught in cahoots with poetry
Armed with pen and paper in hand
Stealing from me all that I have
Until my muse says there's nothing left
Empty's the till inside my pounding head
I'll sing like a stool pigeon in the hot seat
In a police line up I'll point out the poetry
Say that's the one that did this to me
The one with the sly smile and rhyme in his teeth
I'll throw myself on the mercy of the court
Plead insanity as I cackle and cough
To tell the truth if you only knew
That last statement is not too far off
I Know why the Paged Word Zings
I am the boss word jumps onto the page
Smearing herself around in a messy way
Doing back floats on the crisp white canvas
Daring the writer to stop her if he can
In cahoots with the muse who is
secretly behind it all.
The word that throws herself onto this page
Does not see any worth in the writer at all
A poet? She scoffs, giving you no kudos or snaps.
She takes a nap in the middle, so the pen cannot move
And she cares not for your ideas or groove.
The word may turn enthusiastic and write a word or two.
But it has to be her way, no one else’s.
Don’t be angry, sad, confused or blue.
That delights the word, and she rings with true.
Loving it that she has confounded and irritated you.
Written 1-04-2021
Contest: Parody of a Famous Poem
Sponsor: L. Milton Hankins
This erstwhile avid poet stir "boy"
prone to hyperbole in a "man" newer
(manure) of writing about his foie
gras bulls, (which matter of fact
happen tubby Ruby red)
redirects his gripe, how
he no longer doth enjoy
sharing his rhymes without
(poems), resorts to joy
full tongue in cheek humor to
lament, harumph, decry...
a source of annoy
ants, sans how nearly every
one of my satisfactory
albeit "FAKE" Hiam
Bick Penn- -Tam Meter
most definitely did perturb,
irk, and displease to cloy
administrators regarding gamut of
various and sundry writing groups,
(yes specifically geared to poetry),
(presuming me in cahoots with George Soros)
I suspect did employ
secret double agents groomed by
Mark Zuckerberg, and/
or Sheryl Sandberg deploy
ying ambiguous reference did not tow
arbitrary guidelines to cite nearly each
endeavor of mine as discrepancy
causing equivalent as digital row
points of view not
countenanced from this bro'
penniless, nearly without dough
nuts to dollars, thus to assuage ego,
(which rejections of sorts)
did rankle at first, hence
explanation no mo' crow
wing (except on my homepage),
an abrupt end explains absence
in case any readers did show
interest can still peruse yo
yo wing unstrung thoughts
from this average joe
by enclosing a blank check
addressed to this wise
acre and silently assertive bozo,
who will express how ire doth flow,
yet tactfulness and diplomacy
kept in mind before I go
ranting and raving like some roe
ving madman wading in deep water!