Loutish Poems


Premium MemberA Public No-no


If there’s one bold public offense
few people are likely to countenance
with a welcomed tolerance 
or neutral facial appearance
and guarantees a consequence
of a sudden public disturbance,
it’s letting loose a bout of stench
(politely known as flatulence)
cowardly released in silence
in a crowd compactly dense
with noses sniffing vengeance
on the culprit’s loutish impudence
his/her face masked in innocense!
Categories: loutish, humor,
Form: Monorhyme

Winter Hawks

An advent of raptors loiters over mall roofs.
hooded eyes scope the neon-lit spaces,
the concreted waste lands.

We wake to their screams as if this were High Sierra,
not Ohio where parent’s try-out or manage children,
open party stores, hunker through the coming
and going of baby Jesus; de-ice puffer jackets.

Gloom is plowed behind snow dunes.
The red-tails roam in loose federations,
their young, mob-handed and loutish,
the mature work alone,
scything through small birds,
the weakened and walking.

The hawks wing-dance proclaiming their time,
a time of frost-bitten electric barricades,
of bobble hats and mittens,

while unseen, a wind-rattled thorny brier,
recites its litany of seasonal prayers.
Categories: loutish, poetry,
Form: Free verse


Warlock

This is where they burned their witch,
Half crazed, half starved Old Mother Gee,
Whimpering as they dragged her forth
‘Tis not me not me not me not me,
Then stood bound there 
As if in a loutish dream
And endured those flames
Without a single scream

Causing those citizens, gathered 
There to abuse and jeer,
To stand and mutter and watch
In abject horror and cankerous fear.
Twas my little poisoned needle
Driven swift and deep to the heart
So that she almost instant died
With just a silent little start
And I tied her corpse
To that burning tree
And only I knew that
She’d been set free.

I am the witch finder to seek them out;
Most nights I ride these skies enhanced
By the sacred mushroom power as down
Below my body lies held in deepest trance.

I ride those winds and I swoop and glide,
Play hide and seek with a midnight cloud
For I am the Warlock and do my will, and as I
Fly to the stars laugh my contempt out loud.
Categories: loutish, death, fantasy, imagination, magic,
Form: Rhyme

An Excercise In Alliteration

The garrulous, Greek grape gatherers,
Joined joyously with jocund japes,
The olive pickers and Ostrich plucker’s,
Celebrating the seasons success in song.

The querulous quiver of musical quavers,
From a quorum of quality wine quaffer’s
Reverberated robustly round the room,
And resonated rhythmically from the roofs rafters.

An altercation arose amongst some aggressive Athenians,
Averting an armed argument was avoided adroitly,
By brave, bold buskers, brusquely berating their bombast,
And loudly and laudably lamenting such Loutish leanings.
Personally I drank my Retsina and went back to my Hotel,
Categories: loutish, allusion, humorous,
Form: Alliteration

Winter Hawks

An advent of raptors haunts the scant gray woods
or loiters over mall roofs.
We wake to their screams as if this were high sierra,
not Ohio where parents try-out or manage children,
open party stores, hunker through the coming
and going of baby Jesus; de-ice puffer jackets,
tend to flocks.

Gloom is plowed behind snow dunes.
The red-tails roam in loose federations.
Their young, mob-handed and loutish,
the mature work in pairs
scything small birds, ripping through
the thinning, the hold-outs,
the weakened and walking.

And the first born listen with the last of us
while the hawks dance proclaiming their time.
A time of fervid litany and electric barricades,
of bobble hats and mittens,
while a black brier
raises bloody thorns in chary praise. 


~~
Categories: loutish, life,
Form: Free verse


Eras

Interesting scenic sway on swabs of society.
 
Portrayal of high fashion. Obs and such ilk have no place in the vista of kaleidoscopic train. Of amplified sexual sway.
 
Changing by the eras.
 
What would the eighteenth century say to such displays of flesh and loutish behaviours?
 
At this stage in humaity peasants rule the displays of street.
 
Oh such rancid awe. Chewing rat nails on a sluice dump.
 
Oh how enticing the aroma of bin.
 
With a deodorant of smog the land does smile under indoctrinated senses. Whilst the ten centimetre fat black and white bug plays a happy tune and the window shines its foreboding omen to the people of Seth.
 
It is possible to repair seams with the water from a washed up milk glass.
 
Oh how the frogs laugh and party under duvets of champion cabbages. Once they swirled to the ballroom bang.
 
EATEN.EGG.EXTRA.ENTWINNING.ENTER.ENTOMBED.ENERGY.ENSLAVED.ENCAPTURED.ENIGMATIC.ELITE.
Categories: loutish, life, people, places,
Form: I do not know?

And the Exhibits

waspish
& coarse!
an ear-loathe
of a stinging credence:

o, loutish 
... exhibits 
at my forest’s edge –

& elders collapse
at devouring
songs –

a ministry of
moth-suckling
babe-bees of 
my ether being!
Categories: loutish, allegory
Form: I do not know?

Premium MemberOnly God Could Love a Bumblebee

I think that I shall never see
A lovely poem written in defense of the bumblebee!
The ponderous and not so glamorous humble bee -
Obviously dreamed up by a senatorial sub committee!

An old stump that in summer becomes its deadly lair,
It flits about chasing little kids, settling in their hair!
It brandishes its fearsome stinger- its well-known bane,
And when stabbed in the fanny causes a heap o' pain!

It bumbles about with gossamer wings so delicately thin,
And upon its loutish face, notice that fiendish grin!
Such silly poems as this are composed only by fools like me,
But 'tis for certain that only God could love a bumblebee!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved

With sincere apologies to one of my favorite poets, Joyce Kilmer,
for my parody of his beautiful poem "Trees"!
Categories: loutish, funny, parody
Form: Rhyme

Alphabirds

All birds can’t drink everything flamingoes gulp. 
Hawks inconsequentially jaunt kilometers.
 Loutish macaws never oblige parrots. 
Quail run several trails under vines. 
White xerophytes yield zenithal albatrosses.  

By Robb A. Kopp
Categories: loutish, nature
Form: ABC
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