Pied Poems - Poems about Pied

The Pied Piperess

Orchestrated they succumb onto her board scene ~ As success thrills the ordained Queen of mean—poet

Once upon a time,  there was a Queen with a magic flute in her throat
Beknownst to all the villagers as the  P i e d   P i p e r e s s  
Without losing

Pied Pipers

 When good seems to fade
 There's a price that's paid
 For mistakes we made
 The pied pipers play
 and leads us astray
 We follow them blind
 caught up in a bind
 To dead  ends we find

 So who will arise
 To be bold and wise
 And choose truth, the prize
Then battles begin
 To

The Pied Piper

I just want to live while I am alive,
I want you to get me out of this witless dive,
I want to drive through my memories,
You are not my subservient appetite.

I want to read you until you are alive,
I want to listen to you until you no longer share your archive,
You are nowhere near my quibbles,
And

a pied piper on steroids

Threats of blood baths easily roil
Cult members whose sentiments boil
Devotees tribal
Shall get D.T.’s bible
Soiled with drizzles of snake oil

Pied Piperess

As Medusa walks in, shuts the door,
caresses precision hand down the mahogany-
and shows one what for.

Senses in starbursts-cloudburst
flavor crystals accenting- your bloom 
of predicate corpus, cat claws in my brain, 
comes metamorphosis-
Led mushrooming depth of field ballooning 
nuclear yield of corpse.
Royal Purple Haze grave-misting
the cold light of day, and we without our shield, 
of course.

Your

Pied Piper

Pied Piper in the village square – a man
With a wooden flute and a golden plan –
Whatever are you doing here?
Did the elders panic, call you in
To purge the town of salt and sin?

Are you here to blow the bugler’s call
Enlist us for a noble cause
Or show us more of days to come?
Perhaps, at last,

Chronicles of the Pied Piper of Mar-A-Lago

I'm not sure how it all began, 
When this soothsayer became heroic to some.
As he molded a story of greatness,
Against what our nation has now become.

Those that listened were mesmerized by his fable,
As he wove a tale of conspiracy and doubt.
Then his minions spread the veil of shadows,
To every corner with whispers they could shout.

Almost

Marionettes of Pied

You motormouths, that pull the strings of life,
Marionettes of Pied that seek confusion.
Your piper teeth are chattering with strife,
Like a Jedi, with wave of hand delusion
“Come one! Come all!” the ringleader twists knife.
The press buries the truth, besets illusion.
The circus clown smiles whilst Hans-ing fairy whales,
Marionettes of Pied with Moby-Dick-sized tales.

3/27/2023

Just having fun creating an

Another Piper

Not pied but a piper of a different sort,
	Partakers tend to frequent cuff and court.
	He seldom leads prefers to follow,
	Decorates flesh while insides hollow.
	
	And slowly lets his ways go shady,
	And lowers bar on choice of lady.
	Will blame the Mayor and Council Board,
	As if actions be not of his own accord.
	
	Why all’d be in his favor

Mr Hyde the Pied Piper Cat

He’s Mr Hyde the pied piper cat
He plays a flute and know where it’s at
His melody is roaring, exotic and phat.
We mice dance to his music, he’s our acrobat!

I wanted to warn my cousin slim.
I had seen cats before who acted like him.
But my cousin was content, and so was I
The day I got mesmerized

Pied Piper of the Florals

She is the pied piper of the floral world.
Flowers gravitate to her day and night.
They travel for miles to latch onto her dress.
She never slows down for them, but they catch up.
She is a magnet for roses, daisies, dandelions and lilies.
Lilly of the Valley is not fast enough to catch up.

Pied Duck

Pied duck
Late diving when
The sea did roar below                                  
as snowy wings flashed bright and bold,
so white

Rectangle Pied Pipers

Technology holds us hostage
Putting us into rectangles
Our I-phones are our newest bosses
Deciding when, where and how we go

Technology directs our actions
Directs us hour by hour
Choosing our moods
Based on where he wants us to be

We read his texts, allowing him to choose our mood
Our feelings, our joys, out hurts, our passions
We are helpless baby mice
Led by

Piquant Pied Piper

It was on a beautiful Sunday, that I was relaxing in the park,
Obtaining all the bliss I could, before blue skies grew dark.

The air was filled with songs, and bees were bloom to bloom;
And the stillness of summer heat, drew birds of vivid plume.

There upon my wooden bench, I lounged back and closed my eyes,
Savoring

Help Us Lord Jesus

In a world of filled of hate
Love is not the enough
We need a clean slate 
We need to keep the Black life Matters
Movement, going to make a change

We have given up on believing 
The superior, then there is the inferior
The rich and then there is the poor
The celebrities and there is the followers
Then comes action,

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