To put it poorly,
You are the taste of chocolate
And the pulse of being high
Of caffeine running through my lungs
Of screaming towards the sky
And to put it even poorer,
I know a bird who cannot fly
A tiny owl, pink toucan,
A gray parakeet named Lice
To put it worst of all,
My veins are reddish, not-so blue
Just like the eyes of eight odd faces
Or the skies midday hue
But to put it stunningly,
So beautiful and true,
I have a coriander brain,
Coral grain and ghastly blue
Fingertips click a
desperate breakbeat
as eyes glaze over
in blue light baptism
please overwhelm me
Binary jungle,
you glowing cesspit
through the clipping
curtain echoes a choir
of post-post ironic
agoraphobics.
Dopamine is a myth,
an expired meme
deemed mega cringe
Let the file rot into
informational abscess
Here we all wait before
Heaven's blockchained gate
tired of partaking into
a satire so removed from
a cogent solution,
It is simply void.
Here is coldest oblivion in
this stupid cyborg machine,
but the world is so
Y2K heat death-core
Whatever that means
It turned a generation
made us abandonware
Just to feed us nostalgia
for times when we
would bother to care.
“I’ll tell you one about the Big Red Dog
He’s big and clumsy but you love him despite this
Well, kids, Clifford's big bones just turned six!
but bad news, he’s got arthritis
Pain it's back again
Coursing through each vein
Pain it never leaves
Consuming me for its needs
Pain hangs on me
Theres no where to hide or flee
Pain my bestest friend
Haunting me to no end
Pain emotional physical
It's no luxury or paradisiacal
Pain lies in wait
Pouncing no need for bait
Pain arrives unannounced
Staying for hundreds of rounds
Pain has no relief
Its nothing but a life theif
Pain haunts my life
With destruction and strife
Pain owns my mind and body
With no antidote or antibody
Pain rules my whole life
I just wish I could have the sweet relief of the afterlife.
Trump Poorly Raised
Trump himself always has praised,
While as child he was poorly raised,
His greatest goal,
From people stole,
Then idiot supporters truly amazed.
Jim Horn
Jim Horn
Oh dear I do feel poorly
oh dear I do feel weird
My chest it is a wheezing
I’ve infection in my ears
I cannot hear a blooming thing
Oh dear I do feel quite done in
My Parkinson’s leg is shaking
like I have St Vitus Dance
I wonder just how long I have
to enjoy my life perchance
What with coughing, ears and leg
I feel like taking to my bed
Or will my chest just do its best to hasten my demise
To take me to another place somewhere beyond the skies
But wait, I’m feeling better
My time it has not come
I must take a walk beside the sea
Afore Grim Reaper comes for me
So enough of this self-pity feeling sorry for one’s self
And getting so obsessed with every symptom of one’s health
It’s just a virus nothing more
Don’t let those thoughts come through my door
I’ll soon be back to feeling good
The way I want
the way I should
Apart that is from good old “P”
Whose tremors remind me constantly
But Parkinson’s won’t define me
I swear I will not let it
So if I can
I swear I will
I’ll blooming well forget it!
Written - 21.10.2017
Lofty was a very large giraffe
he got ill from standing in a draught,
got a very sore throat
and sounded like a goat
funny to see a giraffe look daft.
1/2/2018
Contest funny poem for a seven year old
Sponsored by Kevin Shaw.
Picture Poorly Painted
There is no way that I should be sainted,
For my tainted picture I poorly painted;
This poem was bad,
Which seemed sad;
When seen by people they had fainted.
James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
I often speak to the moon
In quatrain
And verse
Asking
Deliberate
Questions
Of her
She Responds
As all beautiful
Visions do
And weeps for
My garish
Words
Poorly Behaving Politicians
By Franklin Price
3/5/2016
Poorly behaving politicians
Wouldn't want to be their mother
Their wife, their father, sister
Or especially their twin brother
Wouldn't want to show my face
Out on the street on just a whim
Not where is he was campaigning
Someone may think that I was him
If I ever catch you cheating on me
I'll kill myself and then I'll kill you and he.
(revised)
.
.
We have
the agreed engagement of
fingers and the casual
brace of arm on waist and
laughter to break the silence.
We sleep with limb touching limb
and feel the brief vacuum of absence.
.
I tell her that she
spent most of her life
orbiting around people
who never learned how
to show love.
.
I ask,
among the
love skills deficient,
why am I different?
Why do you treat me poorly?
All I did was give you my love and trust.
And still you treat me like I am nothing to you.
You go around and flirt with all the girls.
Honestly, it makes me want to hurl.
When you talk to me.
I feel like I am being abused with your words.
All I did was try to be with you.
It seems you don't want me too.
Why do you treat me poorly?
I always do things for you.
Isn't that enough?
Why do you treat me so poorly?
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