Moronic Poems | Examples

many mistakes in Minnesota

mixed bag of misgivings misconstrued Mrs. Mulligan’s miscomprehensions misunderstood. Miserable Mrs. M. mistrusted Minnesota moderators’ misuse of mockery and mimicry. Monkeyshine mix up, monopolized moronic mood, a monumental mortiferous mistake made by many.

Big Blue Cow

I saw her in a meadow high
Where red flowers touch the sky
Her eyes were mournful, so much inside
I looked within, skepticism died

(chorus)
I'm in love with a big blue cow
And a big blue cow loves me
She don't have a job, but she survives
Without that college degree
She don't take drugs, and she don't drink
We agree about politics, I think.

I used to date a gal, who talked a storm
But I felt cold, I had to feel warm
I wanted a date who understood me
This cow is electric, I touched the fence, and I see.

Now its the wrong species, my parents would plea
But species is what I say it must be
In Kindergarten, they indoctrinated me
with a gender book, for kids aged three

At this point, you might say I'm moronic
But true love is always platonic
over 28 percent of young women say they are gay 
I think that society made them that way

So don't laugh at me when I avow
eternal affection for my big blue cow
I'll go to the meadow, and gaze in her eyes
where bees buzz, and the condor cries

You may say I believe what I want to believe
But who doesn't, and love can't deceive.

Pyramids

The pyramid at Giza 
is ancient they say,
but is it oldest
on the worldwide grid?

Some others say nay,
consider Java's Gunung Padang
built 27,000 years ago
a new study shows.

Archeologists raise their eyebrows,
they scoff and snort,
we must surely investigate 
those most moronic upstarts.

They question timelines ordained
by us long ago;
we can't be usurped
by those deluded pretenders!

The Impotent Poet

sputtering poetry,
   the impotent poet
      tells me, she was
“…puttering around Pittsburg.”

          potent poetry. perhaps,
        alluring alliteration
      potentially portends
   the winch to wind up
this bucket of water.

         diviner twitches, dips,
      dares to deviate
   direct, dilate.

like a mad scientist, moronic
   not to move these ready-made
      sputters into a test tube, shake
         and let them explode!

an avid, alliterative logophile
   holds the power to possess,
to render the procession of
   spoken word into usefulness.

alert to the prowess of moving lips,
   gears cranking creativity and giddiness,
      glad tidings go on and on, when
sputtered with regards to my sister’s trip.

Sad Taie of Bullfrog King

Here is the sad tale of the moronic bullfrog king
He may be royal, but he is a ding-dong-ding-a-ling.
He cannot tie his shoes, drive a car or even sing.
Whistling is out, he is a lackadaisical old thing.

He has a name, but he does not answer to it.
For he does not remember it day-to-day, not one bit.
Majestic maids and butlers are much smarter than he.
He does not even hit the toilet when he takes a …..

He has no friends, but his court is always full.
People can steal his riches with a tug and a pull.
For he does not notice as they grab his watch.
No robbery there ever had even one small botch.

Lickety-split here he comes, so pretend to bow.
He will either ride in on a donkey, pelican or cow.
He is the oddest bullfrog king we have ever had.
And this was all said by his mom and dad.

Two Fools

Taste me, I’m sweet like macaroon.
This meeting today was highly opportune.

So many adventures to plan,
Drink my fill; seek to understand.

Enmeshed and ensconced, I bathe.
The moon’s craters burn and blaze.

Too hot for me, I begin to expire; 
I’ve been seduced by the beauty of fire.

What’s wrong with this world?
Let’s watch this apocalypse unfurl.

Straight back to narrow again, 
I return to intricate myself in sin.

Will you join me in my crimes?
I promise a good time.

In darkest blue, we’ll save pretty face, 
Smiling, assume our rightful place.

Either made to richest-rule,
Or just two moronic fools.

Pretense

Forensic evidence is no pretense against the defense/
It will prove prevalence in the family’s ordinance/
Moronic elements that ail his laments are just sordid and dense/
More on it as the envelopment to derail inherent ends he upends/
Four chronic tipple alcoholics sail away an heir apparent out of pretense/
Tour scenic and hop the fence frail to tear a new pair of parents for greed sense/
Sore we’ve beaten it in old hallways as we dance trails to romance and breed new brands/
Bore logic that grants pathways with complete relevance and developments of freelance/
All remnants of other incidents one of which would enhance such reverence/
With immense radiance compliance and patience will lead to confidence/
Competence is of the utmost importance in these pants with no ignorance/
Encourage tolerance in the newest plans to advance these new contents

Been There, Done All That

Those who live in the city
  hightail it out to the country
to worship Nature with adoration
  for them, a breathtaking vacation…

While those who dwell out in the sticks
  drive in to see the city slicks
towering skyscrapers, endless shopping
  keeps them hopping and be-bopping…

As for – yawn – me: Been there, done all that
  Time to curl up with my fluffy housecat
Switch on the tube for the next moronic spat
  ‘tween MAGA-men and livid Democrats * 




______________________________________
*'MAGA' stands for 'Make America Great Again,' 
which was Donald Trump's campaign slogan.

Choose Your Mob

We need to organize, demand the right to be mindless.
Deserve we compensations,
        restorations for the witless who riot.
Compassion and pardon for all moronic mobs.

The right to choose death for others, free booze.
The freedom to abuse, shut down, condemn,
                      and censor.

We fight for the right to chant
    every meaningless slogan,
pledge allegiance to double-speak &  gobbledygook,
                                and of course,
the unalienable sanctity of the male womb,
all gender-fluid birthing, the freedom to groom.

To boldly march on, arm in arm, in tune
toward another dumb-downed.
                                              doltish dawn.

Foolish Folly

Foolish folly in the house of putrid politics
Dirty deeds up their sleeves double-dealing tricks
Forgetting the homeless, ignoring the poor
Though staying between the lines of the law
Oh ! And the law, well that’s another story
One suggesting a lavish lavatory!
For the criminal not for the upstanding 
Not for the meek though only demanding
Yes the pecking order is quite transparent 
With suited criminals all apparent 
Trickling down such bad behaviour
Praying to my only saviour-
Please help them to sow seeds of decency 
Awaken the blind to the difference of recency 
For this society unravels the very pits
When ruled by a bunch of moronic dimwits 
With crime through the roof that hinders well-being
Many are silent with sickness from seeing
The defeated and shattered upon a tightrope
Without any justice-there is no hope!

A Prayer For Rights

PREFACE

I wrote this after I saw a poet suggest
~ that all the unvaxxed be put to death,
A moronic statement and one thar rings 
and mirrors the ugly,.....Adolph Hitler.
Heaven help us, if we turn into killers.

     ...........My Prayer..........

Now I lay me down to sleep.
I beg thee Lord, all my rights to keep.
If forcibly vaxxed, before I wake,
Send Satan and their Hitlerian souls to take.

                    12/14/2021

Omicron Anagram

It seems the most dangerous symptom caused by the Omicron* strain is that it makes the radicals even more moronic! 

*A new Covid variant that the doctor who raised the alarm about it says so far Omicron has caused only very mild symptoms. https://youtu.be/HisaMHjRkvk

Blocked Drains

My poor heart aches as my mind cogitates
upon the deep desires of my dark soul,
and searching for profound truths that can be
expressed in mystic subtle syllables.
Alas such thoughts come at the worst of times.
I dream of them, elusive to extreme.
I wake and these abstractions spiral up
into nothingness of infinity,
ethereal concepts lost into space,
misty spectral reveries, brown studies
of doubtful natures, devious musings
of negligible earthly happenings.
All lost, unattainable conceptions,
leaving me spiritless limp and listless,
a ramekin of moronic despair,
riding a foamy crest of frustration.
Until my looking glass is tinted rose,
the black clouds break and faith is reassured.
Then I shall take up my pen and paper
and scribble all my endless worthless thoughts.
Alas that holy day is still to be.

Vaxxibillions

VaxxiBillions

The majority of splendid minds
the minority a jar of pickled brains
over six billion shots
freedom to live
not die of ignorance

Without, most would not even be here
I remember the black plague
of the 1600's
people were stupid back then
death fed on them

ignorance is the twin of evil

Chicka Lacka Micka Lacka Boom Boom Bah

Chicka lacka Micka lacka Boom Boom Bah
Germanic witches bring the owls with a caw
They dance in rhythm, shaking their petootsies.
Dracula hides from them in a coffin with moronic Mootsies.

Chicka lacka Micka lacka Boom Boom Bee.
The witches are warming up as the crowd can plainly see.
A finely choreographed dance, they dance with dignity.
Delighting their brooms with the power of their ‘she’.

Chicka lacka Micka lacka Boom Boom Bay
I wish the witches would honor us with this dance every day.
October should come around in August, June and May.
I love seeing the way they perform their craft this way.

Chicka lacka Micka lacka Boom Boom Blight
The witches have given me some happy dreams this autumn night.
I find myself dancing in my sleep, twisting my hips to the right.
I wish I could join the Wiccans, Germanic power so very bright!

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