flimflam Freddy, Frankenville’s only funeral director
actively sought out numbskulls, dimwits and nitwits
an expert in cajoling them into signing contracts
assuring them that their funerals would be exquisite
he verbally mentioned doves, orchestra, and magic shows
none of this was in the contract they signed
a contract that guaranteed nothing
a contract that assured him of unbelievable amounts of money
funerals that cost others six thousand,
cost these nimb-nuts twenty thousand
in teeny tiny print it mentioned that additional expenses might be incurred
and they were
The sage confronted the goofballs, three -
"How dare you donkeys challenge me?
My credentials are unquestioned, twits.
So, scatter forth, boneheads, nitwits."
"Your qualifications are indeed top drawer.
We numskulls are looking for number four."
High hopes built on imaginations
And human frailties
A meandering mirage on hot tarmac at noon
A recipe for hunger
In hollow voices, whisper winds of expectations among the trees
Drowned by the reality of sunrise
Gaze upon the hills with starved emotions
And welcome the verity of dawn
Expectations take a dive
When reality fails to thrive
Illusion—the gateway to delusion
Expect nothing, avoid disappointment
Spend and be spent, hope for the best
Find solace within
Peace lies only in the deep
Salad of ignorance, emotions and negativity is a recipe for grief
Nourish not the nattering nitwits
Lest you swim in a pool without water
Intertwine twins of triumph and tragedy—
A constant memento of life and death
Purge yourself of dead weights
Happiness lies within
Only extract the worries
Every success has a process
Out of the belly flows contentment—the
Opium ushering upliftment and fulfilment
past knoxville and idaho city there are a pair of adorable nitwits.
townspeople refer to them as kooky oddballs, a couple of twits.
their name is easy to learn. she is backward ditz; he is fritz.
brown eyes are lop-sided, their glances can be the pits.
watch out! cautions their neighbor, they will bore you to bits.
they showed up one day unexpectedly during a neighboring blitz.
I heard they were parisians, but another told me they are brits.
fritz can do a weird almost-hand-stand, and ditz does the splits.
twits do not put on airs; neither abides by the ritz or any glitz.
they eat bland foods like porridge, oatmeal, and plain grits.
calico cats come to them all the time, presenting them with kits.
their fighting is so common, their eyes are swollen to slits.
fritz likes to knit, so their house is full of junk that he knits.
afghans, scarves, hats, potholders, and unusable oven mitts.
ditz does not wash her hair, so it is full of lice, bugs and nits.
also have zits, and they have performed some really weird skits.
The follies of fools
The lord of fools
The fools that are lords
a leader of the damned
Insane the minority of minions
Deplorable and disdained
Blind in the sight of kings and lords
Jester’s of old orange baboons
In golden flossy glossy wigs
Fleeting hair a top fule lords fake façade
In a flock of tweets and Nitwits
Someone said the one eye
man is lord of the blind in the land
of the blind this fool is king
Dressed in nothing but a red tie
& golden fly away sad toupee
The follies of fools a leader
of the damned doomed
And unschooled the folly of fools
the fule lord of one supreme leader to some
Blind in the sight of kings and lords
Burning Republics building empires,
finding legions of cults
a Cult of personality bleeding, pleading
Scheming at the doors of a CLOSED kingdom
tearing apart the fabric of a nation
For the keys to dominion
Someone once said the one eye man
is lord of the blind in the land
of the blind has a fool for a king
Dressed in nothing but Ignorance.
In golden flossy glossy wigs
Fleeting hair top fule lords FRACTURED façade…
Dic: fule (dialectal, chiefly Scotland) fool
Laughing Buddha with a tabby on your head,
You will be the death of me, the fern willow said.
All you do is extend ridiculous mirth and joy.
Even when under the influence of this weird boy.
The Laughing Buddha kept up his happy smile.
In many years, he had experienced those who rile.
He knew it was something unhappy entities do.
He would try to give fern willow joy before she was through.
The grasses began to taunt and tease him now.
They wanted to find out why and how.
The laughing Buddha kept up this crazy farce.
The cat jumped down, fell on his ****.
The whole garden was ablaze with curiosity.
What made this Laughing Buddha so wild and free?
He’s not alive, you nitwits, the banyan tree said.
You mean he’s deceased? You mean he’s dead?
They did not understand, so he let that slide.
He liked the Laughing Buddha; it gave him pride.
Don’t worry about them, he told his friend.
His stalwart love for this statue would never end.
Importance of beauty
Well, what should I say
A despondent heart knows it well
It's power to make your survival easy
Lips, nose and two eyes it takes
To change your destiny, to change your fate
And if you are bestowed to the dark shade
All you'll see is the world's cruel face
Harrasments, chuckles and countless stares
All you can do is to refrain
Though such people can't be blamed
Their only possession is their pea sized brain
So don't you worry you little sunshine
Time knows best, everything will be fine
Well, your heart knows you are pristine
And it's enough to leave all the nitwits behind
Just remember, nobody is inferior
What matters the most are the virtues of the soul
Every shade has it's own beauty, it's own role
To make the canvas perfect to the core...
While all the ribald pranks bubble,
made-up faces grin across conference halls--
botox-filled, pimply holes smoothly done
where bag of word- tricks fumble: and allies
looking like nitwits roar in noisy guffaws
bantering with other co- stooges
whose exchanges tangle in crazed quips.
A showtime of indulgent egos now outwit
each other… these officials unmindful
that polka-dot on noses, foreheads, jaws
concealed by make-overs are now melting:
Just then, a well-groomed speaker bangs
the gavel to end day’s hysterical circus...
tell me, how can inane clowns be worthy
of prime news when all they say are fake!
Contest of Edward Ibeh: Polka Dots
1/21/2019
Will you read me again?
Please read me again
And write me a reply
So I can write again...
Yes she wrote for the
Brother fattens like baobab
Fat yet she thins like biltong
At displeasure, He be wordly
Yes she wrote for the
Brother seized power but
Is it for the people by the people
Dermocratic only on manifesto.
Yes she wrote for the
Brother claim immunity when
Questioned . He is conflict with
His phrases I cant make sense out.
Yes she wrote a writ
That her indite to incite
Nitwits she engraved and post
Forth the pun in word. Dictionary.
Yes she wrote
I stand within these walls of comfort, Called freedom. While in every corner of this world, My siblings die. Brothers and sisters of earth, Struggling for hope. My vagabond mind wanders in circles, Searching for answers. Still, questions hang like dead fog, Which never lifts. Explosions of pain that ears can hear, Waking my eyes in morning papers. Wars giving less than nothing, Smother my senses in useless regret. So many feeling so sorry, Yet simply changing channels. Compassion being a dirty word, Those elite few have come to despise. While walls they've built soon crush them, Beneath weight of their own insincerity. Intellectual nitwits, Unaware of their bottomless ignorance. Marching beneath a banner of confusion, They proudly do wave. All the while chanting, Let the common ones eat dirt. As their warm apple pies quietly cool, On selfish shelves. As unfortunate mothers loudly weep in despair, Watching their children expire. These ones of power do not hear those sounds of death, Only their greed raging out of control in a battle outside.
Freddie the goat was as wide as a boat
His hair was long, tangled and whiffy
He asked Maisie the cow could she help him right now
And she mooed she would in a jiffy
Joey the horse said with some force
My tail is also quite smelly
So Maisie mooed here I’ll make it real clear
I can also shave your big belly
Daisy the hen clucked from her pen
Could you take a look at my feathers?
Maisie then mooed you’re so very rude
I do all three of you nitwits together
September 6th 2016
The world is full of things that vex,
Competitors going for rivals’ necks,
Foes that single you out for no reason
And haters who loathe despite the season.
In the face of all this you should stand out
As a stout brain that is not swayed about
By the malicious winds of cheap spite,
But all this needs you to have great inner might.
You need to refuse to hate those that disgust
And forgive those think you’re as cheap as dust,
All this won’t be easy for the raw mortal creature,
It calls for patience and calm of inordinate measure.
You will give up easily if you are just a common Joe
For you won’t stand the world with its man-made woe,
It’s your God-given onus to tolerate the nearby fool
With unconditional love your only shield and tool.
They say we’ll be rewarded for putting up with this hogwash,
In heaven when the nauseating scalawags fill hell with ash;
But even if this were all some trick to deceive the peaceful race,
Don’t you think ignoring nitwits makes the world a better place?
Great girdle! She cried.
What happenstance have we happened upon?
Have the two nitwits knocked themselves silly with hammers?
What is the sensitivity they seek so?
She heaves humbly a sigh sumptuously,
As if the scene had the heavenly smells of Harvard halls, the musk of her haberdashery
And wondered how she could fit into such a simple equation
saps,
nitwits &
dunderheads,
congregating in their little houses of worship,
celebrating a fictional character
manufactured long ago,
so that fear & control might be instilled within the masses
who would give up trying to change the world that they live in &
place all their bets on a mythical overseeing tyrant who
being selfish enough to muster all of life on this planet,
only to pummel it with hatred, destruction & demise,
then cast out one pubic hair of “creation” dumb enough to
allow the rest of us to kill it,
so as to feel better about ourselves,
so as to walk the rest of our lives as if all would be better in the
“next”---
by making symbols of this character’s bogus “suffering”
with strips of Arecaceae folded into little crucifixes
handed out to warped adults & unfortunately early brainwashed youngsters,
our world gains another batch of
dull tools to be found in the shed &
damned if one can find where the sharp ones got misplaced.
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