Pontificate Poems

Seriously, bro

I love the way you cleverly
pontificate and think you know it all ~
so quick to dole out your advice.

I close my eyes,
take a deep breath
'cause here we go again.

Under the guise of altruism,
you rank right up there with other pests ~
wish there was a prize for 'most annoying'.

I close my eyes,
take a deep breath
'cause here we go again.

You don't need any details
the solution's already in your head ~
who wants any of the facts?!

I close my eyes,
take a deep breath
'cause here we go again.

Do you even hear yourself ~
your words and tone are laughable
but there's no stopping you.

I close my eyes,
take a deep breath
'cause here we go again.


AP: Honorable Mention 2025

A Dust Bowl of Glitter

A blessed soul has won a role, The Prince of Peace,
Of noble birth, a novice born a blue-blood,
Pontificate average those brevities,
Stemmed full of thorns wrangled beneath his rosebud.

Won The Papal States, Mona Lisa smiled, lost,
His tenure was mired in doubts--parts that he crossed,
A scorned tag as unfortunate of the popes,
A Florentine, a Medici, useless hopes.

Filling The Balloon

Do you know
many things
understanding
not one

Portending 
your weakness
pretense
on the run

The trash bin
of knowledge
refills
left unchecked

Pontificate
dirges
spout off
— to infect

(The New Room: July, 2024)

American Lass Plus

 

After life's storms, what should I do? 
Celebrate, perhaps pontificate? 
Perhaps know there is good work 
For others in this world I am able to do!

Stop, oh ,stop blaming politicians!
Ask, what you  can do  to effect conditions!
For no matter how misguided others are
Remember that you are a shining star.

It all began in a,land called America, that began with one colony.
We do not have to worry be a slave to any color.. nor creed
Best to stay out of public schools,,,,time to homeschool,
And teach the Constitution.based on Gosd’s rules.

Regardless, I still remain an American lass,
With good health care, no illness, no vaccines,I pass! 
Many want this government to take our freedoms away?
And I will march, shouting, It is  a most glorious day!

2024

It's eight
After so much learning and healing in seven
Now is the time to elevate
So go and create
Something beautiful and great
Please don't procrastinate.
Now is the time to illustrate
Then go demonstrate
Your gifts and worth are yours to authenticate 
So do not pontificate
They're all yours in eight
By all means, move on them and please do not negate
A symbol of infinity I see
A road of endless possibility

The Rules of War

An old woman holds bloodied hands to her face
A child cries in the rubble
A mother rocks her mangled child
Children cling to the nothingness of fear
Assassins congratulate each other
Dancing beneath bloodied “flags”
Well-dressed politicians pontificate
Photographers “capture” the moment
Knowing – “there are no rules of war”

Your Ardour

Who adjourns me
in this backlight story
Who will call the wolf
to dance in her captivity ?
Willow wisp dispensing hollowness
espied on fields of grey

The World's a stage
disembark at your own peril
Pontificate
your ardour
anoints us well

Tis the Season

Poppin jays flies
on Neon lights
Hanker don't whisper !
As the Mighty Oak sways
The lavee squirms  forward
running obtuse

The dancers pontificate thought
lancing the proverbial boil
As an afterthought
The pied pipers never pay


The rotten beams surrender
pulsating dead energy
beyond the fold of avarice
Tis the season of Arbeit

Poetry

Perfect prose or pantoum’s ...
Perhaps these styles are not for me!
Poems needn’t be
Professionally produced
Petty poets pontificate!
Personally I prefer
Playfully penned poop

Oh, To Preach

Oh, to preach, to pontificate
Seize the “bully” pulpit
Bask in the reverberations
Of your own voice
Mock the sanctity of silence

To expound on the simplicity
Of the impossibly attainable
Berate the questioners
Expound on humility
In stained glass superiority

To infiltrate the openness
Of childlike minds
Inculcate the innocence
With tainted seed

Oh, rave on
You echo-chambered ego
Your bellicose denials
Deny their truth

John G. Lawless
©6/27/2023

As I Wander

As I wander,
I often ponder
Why do so many men pontificate?
They often mitigate
The great truths of this universe

Prodigious truths and secrets in this plane
So much energy at dawn, now passing over the
Midday sun, slowly that bright light begins to wane

Is it foolish of me to continue on this odyssey, I ask?
A nomad just wandering and searching for answers
May be a Sisyphean task

I'm still moving but just not as fast
That inquisitive itch is still there.
But I don't know how long my scratch will last

Well! As far as I can see and as long as there is an itch
I guess I'll be wandering and pondering until
They cover me in a ditch

Peeble

In the street I found you
oblong pebble
Where did you hail from
an outcrop  or some bizarre barrier reef
I chalk on you
all the lost and lonely

I love you like Jah
I cannot bare any flowers in my seed bed
I  lay you in the mud
goodbye zinc and potassium
Pontificate the London Waters
when I'm brewing a cuppa

Croydon Part Deux

hoardings  of shops on the isle of ridiculousness
the feral pigeons pontificate
the leaking roof of the civic theatre stays
you've seen better days
you've blundered into desperation
bankrupted twice
and now you're turning the middle
of town into millionaires row
ill afforded by the minions
even our local Market is shrinking
an ebb tide of the municipality
Westfield as vexing as a fox in chase
The Central library feels lobotomised
is it part privatised?

The Pope and the Papacy

The Pope is
 the Bishop of Rome
is the Vicar of Father Christ (Jesus) on earth
The visible Head of the Church
Successor of St. Peter
The supreme ruler of all Christians
He is the supreme judge in all matters of faith
Morals
In pronouncing upon which he may exercise unerring
His office is called the pontificate (or papacy)
As possessor of the keys to the kingdom of heaven
Gifted with unerring or certainty
The Pope keeps the doctrine of the faith pure
Acts as the center of unity in the Church
His office is a royal one
As represented by the triple tiara traditionally worn by the popes

Poem Written: 10:12a.m.
Time Written: 10:12a.m.
Poetry Form: Free Verse

Busing Blues

I hate to see immigrants used as pawns,
driven in buses, dropped on people’s lawns.
It seems so easy to pontificate,
but sh*t gets real with people at your gate.
I feel for Texas and the border states;
I feel for those who get in line and wait.
I feel for refugees driven by force.
For sanctuary towns, I’ve less remorse.
Easy to sip tea on the ivy’d green
and theorize on problems, sight unseen.
So Abbot and DeSantis brought it home;
it’s time the east coast learns this on their own.
The policy must go from open, wide,
to limiting the numbers let inside.
True, immigrants have made our nation great,
but now, both sides use them to fuel more hate.

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