Long Preview Poems
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10/4/21
It all started with one, now I need at least two
This is just the preview
People only there when they need you
Fast to deceive you
Such actions are see-through
I took off on a ski-doo
In the air debris flew
Rent and another payment soon to be due
In Australia near an area full of Emu
A secret message was written in Hebrew
As time courses
There'll always be opposing forces
Over anything, such as resources
As well as horses
Don't get it twisted and distorted
Either unbiased, against it or all for it
While in orbit
They stick with it or eventually forfeit
Hardy har har
I always party hard
People trying to have a heart to heart
Quitting is the hardest part
Don't let the darkness start
Most of the time I isolate
Never do I await
And embrace what is so called 'my fate'
Got to pave my own way, often my eyes dilate
Still humans continuing to violate
The one to annihilate
Another species, permanently impacting survival rate
You name it the time and place
I'll be there, ready to work and in a good mind state
Even when I'm hungover, I'm just over all the lies and hate
Rarely ever sober, at night I often lie awake
All this damage
As time continually passes
It's of no advantage
Among the masses
Getting difficult to manage
Fogging up my glasses
Nearby the grasses
Far too many obsessed with the upper class and status
It's bat s***
Like the life of an addict
I got to watch out for any toxic gases
Can't think or move at the speed of molasses
Meanwhile in the sky occasional flashes
In the end ashes to ashes
She gazed at the looking glass, but the mirror refused to grant her a preview of what might happen, a clear picture of where she had been and if she existed at all, the spectre of the moment seemed to be disguised from inspection. Coming to terms with having absorbed and condensed too many of society’s norms and demands had seemingly been her duty and the prism of requests on her image of beauty had failed her inner Self. She drooled onto the spitting image of nothingness and the slobber ran down to the frame that upheld phlegm and contempt before it trickled down onto the baseless floor founded on hardcore delusion. Diet pills and dark shades had not relieved her from a succession of errors of reason and emotion and when she had blindfolded herself, the blinkers tore deep into her misrepresentation of surrender and cosmetic denial.
scanned in revulsion
vacant echoes burst the sight –
shards of glass splintered
So many fragments pierced into her eyes, that dry tears covered the pulverized viewing and heart-blood sprayed all over her soul. A point of no return, because if she failed to stem the flow and bandage the wounds, gangrene would set it soon and salving the lacerations would only speed up infection and purulent grime. The wall in front of her blurred out of proportion and there was nothing she could do about it other than retrieving bristles and paint from the storeroom and gloss over the shiny remnants of disrepair. And therefore, she entered into a journey of the unknown, drew rose petals and thorns onto broken canvas. Before she knew it, she decoupaged disintegration and fractures, glued a mosaic of imagination to mirror what should have been there in the first place. Sweat dripped from her forehead and smudged aquarelle shades which reassembled self-worth and confronted demons and abuse. An inner voice shouted, ‘all you need is a mantra to caption the artwork which you truly are.’ That is when she wrote her first poem and became free of doubts, oppression and cynical critique.
blame discredit reproach
failed to appease me in vain –
reflections can change
26th March 2021
My opponent will destroy democracy
But my opponent will normalize hypocrisy
My opponent pays hush money to whores
Well, my opponent snoozes in meetings and snores
My opponent’s in cahoots with radical progressives
But my opponent’s tax cuts are regressive
My opponent is in bed with Putin
Well, my opponent for Iran is rootin’
My opponent’s spending will stoke inflation
But my opponent’s plans will increase starvation
Enough! Stop! Cut! Halt!
It’s not all the other guy’s fault
All this negativity makes one thing clear
I’m voting for the first candidate I can cheer
A TOTAL WASTE OF OXYGEN
As we turn the pages of our life
And we reach the final chapter
We realize it's been pretty entertaining
Now what the hell comes after
Well it all depends on who you talk to
No one has a definitive answer
Until you reach that crossover point
Hopefully avoiding dreaded cancer
If there was a way of maybe a preview
To prepare us for what's to come
We might wanna change this and that
To delay that last final run
Guess I don't want to know the exact date
Kinda freaky I'd hasten to say
When approaching that final moment
What would be my last foray
What if I've done nothing really special
I die and I'm all but forgotten
That dreaded fear, it was all for nothing
A total waste of oxygen
there is a shine to the window way up high
I scoot up there to watch the sky
It’s gray today, and wind is playing the trees
I watch large limbs waving in the breeze
The grass is verdant, so marvelously green
I hear some voices, the people unseen
I raise the window to better hear
the neighbors, whose voices are most clear
My flowers look pretty, especially the lily
An upside-down statue looks pretty silly
rain hits me in the face as it starts to sprinkle
the asphalt driveway has nary a wrinkle
from safety of this window, I preview my land
redness of cardinal reminds me tomatoes need canned
There is a smell of summer brought inside through this square
A portal to the outside, honest, lovely, and fair.
This year may rock they say
But I look at it a different way
I wanna make the moments
Treasure them deep
Let them live with me everyday
But by the preview of a day or two
I live the boredom in my eyes
I feel the lonesome
With no disguise
I say 10 is my favorite number
But I don’t think it really works that way
Wishing something could happen that’s worth the risk
Wishing an adventure to come
Twisting away the cowards
I wanna be the person
That withstands the tears
I wanna be the person
That draws the laughs
Faces the fears!
I don’t want to stay here
I’m trying to persuade you
I’m trying to convince you
I’m trying to know, to meet
Many different people
Sure memories are important
But can you let me just be
For those who don't read blogs or know of Jan's successful first book, I've written a limerick for her and included it in my comment on her blog. She's included her interview in a podcast. I was asked to post my limerick here as well. If anyone would like to write a limerick in honor of her first publication, please join in and send me a limerick, or even a note to congratulate her. Thank you.
Jan, our Queen of Poop has a sexy voice
Crowned as Limerick Queen, she is our choice
But oh my lordy
Some are quite bawdy
Book sales are good ~ she's getting a Rolls Royce
by Lin Lane
Jan's poems are clever and funny too
Full of bawdy lines and some about poo
Comedy at its best
Her poems will attest
Read" A giggle a day" to not feel blue
by Tania Kitchin
No rolls Royce or Winnebago camper van
A sedia gestatoria, for Jan
One with a floating loo
For outdoor number two
Carried shoulder high around the Isle of Man
by David Kavanagh
LONG LIVE THE QUEEN
Jan Allison has written her first book
It was a mammoth task she undertook
Preview it on amazon
I'll guarantee you'll want one
I've read a bit and my whole body shook.
by Tom Cunningham
Jan nixed the idea of getting a Rolls
She opted to put wheels on toilet bowls
Her farts serve as a horn
She ignores those who scorn
And she never gets stopped to pay bridge tolls
by Mark Koplin
In a bathroom where tales tend to unfold
And humerous secrets are often told
There’s a plop and a cheer
Laughter rings loud and clear
In porcelain chambers poems are sold
by Arthur Vaso
Poetry Soup’s Queen of Poop
has made herself a news scoop!
She published her book
and that’s all it took.
A second book is now in the loop.
by Linda Alice Fowler
Congratulations Limerick queen Jan
A poetess who’s from the Isle of Man
Pleased your book is a hit
A giggle a day gift
From an hilarious comedian.
by Beryl Edmonds
“The battleline between good and evil runs through the heart of every man.”
~ Alexander Solzhenitsyn
Call me outspoken, blunt, forthright,
But I’ll say it as it is,
Straight-from-the-shoulder,
No wishy-washy, no beating around the bush;
It might hurt some feelings, upset a few
but freely I speak my mind and no preview…
The only solution is to tell it like it is,
Only way to make a clean breast of it.
Man, they say, is made
in the image of God,
But inherently
he is more malicious than the beast--
The epitome of evil.
Lurking in him is
A Jihadi, a Crusader, an Inquisitor,
A rapist, a ravager, a marauder, a warmonger—
The very incarnation of the Devil!
Man is godly
albeit with the beastly instincts,
Universally perceptive
albeit narcissist in nature,
Benevolent yet bedeviled by his demons
Eternally yearning for salvation yet
intrinsically entangled in a web of self-delusion,
Neither able to adapt to the earth nor earn the paradise,
Garnering good deeds but scattering them to the winds;
God must surely rue the day He created man!
~02/10/23
~Contest: Writing challenge "E" word
~Sponsor: Constance La France
The Devil rose from Hades with a roll call in his hand.
The names he’d burned into his list were scorned throughout the land.
They’d lied and stole and cheated and had cared not who they harmed
Arriving now at judgement day when evils souls are farmed.
For final retribution, an eternity in Hell,
The cost that all will have to pay when caught in evil’s spell.
For evil breeds its family, with greed and hate and pain,
Preparing all it’s followers for Hell’s eternal flame.
The Devils face ablaze with joy, for mankind now was ripe,
For very easy pickings, for most folk are now his type.
But should you get a sneak preview of those upon his list,
Just hope that on his final roll it’s your name that he missed!
Ivor G Davies
(alternately titled:
why yours truly crafted six electronic aliases).
No rhyme nor reason beatle browed
beastie boy long ago
created INXS of half dozen
email addresses gallivanting
feigning himself a most sought after
singular modest beau
courtesy crass brazen duplicity
eventually forced to eat crow
campy bonehead devoured carrion
(blech) property extinct dodo.
Egregious discreet escapades
sneeze silly explains at chew
(albeit lamely) philandering,
foolish extramarital dalliances,
I now regret and genuinely eschew
interesting complete one hundred eighty
sobering perspective regarding grandview
emotional shell shocked fallout experienced
courtesy this wanderlust myopic
quite reformed practicing Jew
whose doubting thomas belief, credo, dogma...
closely aligned with Unitarianism milieu
dirty deeds done dirt cheap willingly crafted
previous poems offering adulterated preview
years after, the missus
got told deux gals I did hammer, nail and screw
at present juncture within space time continuum,
yours truly maintains critical view
bespeaking polygamous antics,
now reviled when garden variety
generic primate initially acted cagey
while going bananas within human zoo.
I sought amorous affections
(think verboten fruit) cuz marriage went askew
(daily altercations transpired
between me and the missus),
thus as iterated above
unhappy husband stealthily finagled bravado
(dreamt up one after another digital pseudonyms
blithely cavorting debauchery ejaculating
unsuspecting self incrimination) cyber sex debut
successfully launched prurient hitherto
novel short lived role as Casanova
starring me... Matthew
Scott Harris whose hubris
coursed thru mine every sinew
until... worst fate than being caught
by cannibalistic Zulu.