Publican Poems | Examples

Rocking strong; its Bundalong'

Though small in size you stood strong' and wise
In your answer to him, of your intended demise!
And that of our fair state.' In our great land.'
For right here i recount of that old 'dingo dan'

He'd paid the blood money, he's bought a plot'
Oh how my blood boils.' And i can tolerate a lot.)
Its plain he had a dirty plan, to  cottaging; that spot; on prime Murray river bank land'

Well it did not come good.' No not at all.!
For a true blue builder,  rejected that call
He came like a demon..yet left like a cur.!
 On that; may freedom loving Aussies all concur!

Keep shunning the dingo.' May  mange be upon him'
I praise our publican, may all blessings be on him.!

Out My Window

It was hours before dawn and I could not sleep.
The gloomy fog overpowered the cold dark street.
The street lights offered patches of misty light.
Rain had glossed the pavement, in the dead of night.
From my window I saw the publican escorting old Joe.
Put him out in the street, he closed the pub hours ago.
My yawning fogged the window as he toddled home.
Last of the rain flowed down the gutters leaving foam.
The eerie silence matched the cold dark grey scene.
A more lonely looking place, there had never been.
Scraps of paper and food wrappers were tumbling,
Pushed along by a breeze as I watched Joe stumbling.
He made it to his gate down the end of the road.
A truck carrying newspapers slung off its load,
Plastic wrapped and landed at the newsagent’s door.
I hoped to watch the deserted street, just a bit more.
To see the sunrise and it be busy with people galore.
Such a transformation was worth waiting for.
To see vehicles appear, all come alive in early morn.
But my bed called and I fell asleep before the dawn.

They Sit Up Here Alone With Me

I sit alone above the fray
Await the saviors coming day
I listen not to other voices
Fraught with the trouble of their choices.

For I am sure the savior saves
The saints and fresh forgiven knaves
Regardless of their Karmic debt
Who rolled the dice and won their bet.

As empty suits at lecterns rave
Console the meek, condemn the brave
And lock the doors of heaven’s gate
To those who showed a bit too late.

The Publican, the Pharisee
They sit up here alone with me.

John G. Lawless
©7/6/2022

The Maigue Poets of Croom

Friggity friggity!
MacRaith and O’ Tuama: 
poets incessant and
blabbering bores. 

Publican served insults – 
flibbertigibbeting.
Rhetoric ingrained dull;
flyting supreme!
________________________________________________________
The limerick is an English comedic five-line poem. The form could be found in England as far back as the early part of the 18th-century. It is thought to be derived from the Maigue Poets of Croom, County Limerick (depicted here). When the two erstwhile friends, Sean O’ Tuama and Andrias MacRaith, had a falling out they started trading insults (in rhyme format), ie flyting.

LEXICON
flibbertigibbeting: frivolous, flighty, or excessively talk.

Flyting or fliting is a contest consisting of the exchange of insults between two parties, often conducted in verse.

American Nero

American Nero,
showering utter disdain — 
Denigration downpour on pleb citizens
begging for pandemic crumbs
As the pestilent fire rages around 
your virally tainted kingdom

Ghastly gladly,
you keep on fiddling 
acid text madly

Dripping hateful words that burn
deep into the bipolar soul 
of a divided nation

An enamel disrobed toga ethos
reveal naked desires
Sparking flames of cold pathos 

American Nero,
a contemptible paper reign
is exit poll falling
Whilst the fire of pox chaos
contagiously spread
with spittle accelerant ease 

This scorching hoax
raze any flagging, publican hope
Truth unmasked
do singe that gallows rumor rope

Fiery breath fiddler 
kindling fear, 
high up on that Ivory Tower roof
Tearfully playing the ill-fated fool madly,
as graven torch idolatry
lay fallow ‘neath ash liberty truth

It Ain'T How It Should Be

As this mad, mad world turns on a bedeviled tilt,
empirical evidence suggest
compassionate global warming regret 
has gotten the cold shoulder
Scoffers with frostbitten hearts
buoy iceberg lies 
Titanic size
Alternate spin facts
submerge the meltdown truth
Letting only half-life decay utterances
be the doubt-filled vapor proof

Hidden double-crossed deceit
runs dark principality deep — 
Veiled villainy ain’t how it should be
Connived highly classified 
camps of coin concentrated thievery
Where vox false profits 
filthy lucre soil the bottom line sheet

Vexed minds rolling thumbs down on a troubled axis;
pandemic anxiety, 
fretting continually 
over premature burial thoughts
Death debt collector
want delinquent souls to pay their Grim Reaper taxes

The pauper field bleeds pawn puppet many
Yet, ill misfortune still
duly befall rook parrots of publican plenty

Equitable death is really a hollow, pale victory    curse noted — 
Same coffin justice ain’t how it blessed should be
Would this wobbling world take a naked pause   tear coated ...
empathetic rest could cure the work of evil deeds

Buy Product Crash

Auto Pilate
is carrion klaxon blaring
a false viral alert 

The warning signal says cadavers don’t vote:
“Let not your lying eyes
believe this smear currency contagious hoax”

With pandemic fear spreading,
speculator pockets get fatally hurt
False profits on a spit propellor decline

Supplies warehouse withering on a purchase vine,
bad news ain’t getting no spin message rebate
As more people dying are multiplying

Autocratic vexation — 
Viral cause is venture capitalist absolutely dismissed
Free market con-fidence in a virtual free-fall

Publican procrastinators watch
as the body count mount
The price of human life don’t add up to much

Global crisis  ...  impending plane of imminence crash
Priceless products in the debt cargo hold were sold 
at a discount infection rate    

Auto Pilate hollow hope cry,
while washing disdain stained hands:
“High kill yield is a ghastly good time to buy!”

Ghost of a Chance

A publican who loved to boast
Claimed to be the host with the most
His daughter said
Her mum was dead
So all he got gave up the ghost

Straight Ghetto

Poverty chained to a flagpole — 
I was ivory told,
my ebony soul
got set free by a publican vote

A historic hot mess
was cleaned up
with a profitable confess
Anthem chimes tolled cold data technology
halted the reptilian ingress

Crooked logic
delivered straight ghetto
A rich lie always got a glitter sheen

White toga tragic
sold as a Happy Hour motto
The color of revision is dollar green

Some churchy woman
asked me did I register early
Said the vote was gonna keep me free
Just as long
as I kiss the behind of Lady Liberty

Another queen of heaven acolyte
with a lip balm ball-and-chain
Slick message from Pharaoh:
return property to Egypt
Prosperity illusion sent overnight

Crooked logic
delivered straight ghetto
Fake bosoms always got a real buxom allure

White powdered magic,
phat pocket Powerball lotto
Paper billow whores love dying on shipwreck shores

Getting Deputized

Round up the posse,
get ‘em vetted Oval Office ganksterized
Appoint the piggy snouts,
then send ‘em out
with metal sidearm power
Ancient oppression done got modernized,
old Egypt Memphis is new Phoenix on the rise
OK the corruption,
legalize the blind Corral mice
Roving Jezebel eyes
got sticky trigger fingers unsanitized
Presidential grifter seal approved,
publican tin badges
skimming off the top of the public trough
Bonnies & Clydes wearing white hats,
got the saddlebags holding the stolen dough
And it looks 
like they done Bernie Madoff with some mo’
Treating citizens mob gankster rude;
those tax cowpokes
are waving their little flag pistols,
talking like tough leather throat fools
Every national treasure asset
is being pirate privatized
Every sniveling weasel with a lizard tongue
is getting Benedict deputized
And truth is being sold in the stables,
non-disclosure is the filly train to ride
Marshaling a high plains moral drifter
to come bail rescue innocent pleb gunslinger you
Remember, Roman toga outlaws
were duly elected judge, jury and executioner too

Cannibal Lies

American Daughters of the Civil War Revolution
are so madly in love with their Bluish-Gray metal sons
Incestuous desires borne of slave tax oppression

Give to Caesar whatever tribute he crown heavy lay on you,
feed three-fifth portions to the hungry publican lions
Let the Den Mother Lying famine devour your children too

Cannibalize every ink spot known self-evident truth,
marginalize any constitutional chains inhibiting your ravenous lust
Another seething pot of baby bones is the Baal proof

Give to Pharaoh whatever gut pyramid schemes he Isis dream,
feed you quarterly lies from the war widow collection plate
The Wall Street church in tea need of another gun barrel beam

Amerikan Sons of the Ruble Con Bolshevik Revolution,
so gluttonly love their daughters’ leather fetish for the holster
Homicidal desires borne of suicidal plantation depression

The Singing Frog

The man walked into the pub and then
Stands at the bar and says “Something special to show you gentlemen”
He opened a suitcase and pulled out a mouse
“Would you like him to play the piano and entertain this house?”

The bar visitors said “Yes” and gave a cheer
They all liked cheerful music with their beer
The mouse played the piano for half an hour
The man said “Would you like to hear a frog who can sing with gusto and power”

The audience cheered and said they were game for anything
The frog sang magnificently, a joy to hear him sing
The mouse playing, the frog singing, everyone was enjoying a great beer
All having a great time that was clear.

Suddenly up jumped a customer who offered to buy the frog
For five thousand pounds, which made the on-lookers agog?
The frog’s owner said O.K. and took the cash
The buyer put the frog in his bag and then away did dash.

The publican said “Five thousand pounds for a singing frog                   
Worth millions.  Wasn’t your price rather modest?”
The man smiled and slowly said
 “Not really, you see the mouse is also a ventriloquist”

Publican Promises

There they go again,
giving you citizens
the ritual political spin
Got the same invitation as before ...
Only question is,
to which party do you wanna go
All of the politicians say,
their party gonna give you a merry good time
Saying, they gon make it rain
paper green,
and they got something good 
coming out of the cake
Every politricker say they got a better way,
and citizen you 
gon be keeping more of the money you make
Just vote for your favorite
special interest whore coming out of the cake
Politrickers be licking their fingers,
saying they got a sweet deal tooth
Making party promises to cut the tax cake,
and give a bigger slice to citizen you
Publican promises:
they gon give more of your
hard-earned money back — 
That’s the honest-to-flag truth
Put more back in your pocket,
that’s what they say they gon do
Publican promises ... 
ain’t you had enough of them tricking you
They think you never get enough
of being their tax fool
Publican politicians believe
putting a little more patriotic frosting
on the tax cake ... then cut a nice promise slice,
and give it to citizen you
That you gon greedily eat it all up,
just like you always do

Blinded By Hate

amnesia sets in
selective memory
forgetting the gossip
written in a rhyme
poison inked words
splatter on the screen
to demean
to be mean
misjudge
tattle taler
repeat hater
carries on...
others pics forgotten
other words forgotten
hate fueled
hate sated
the true state
not debated
never stopping to think
could be wrong
has to push down
to be strong

and so it goes on
wrong after wrong
and like the publican
feels good to pray
and say
"Thank God...I'm not like others....a sinner
I'm a winner!"
Morality laden
A chaste maiden

Oh, but erased
is not defaced
there is another record
One with a trace
Seen by another Judge
ONE not common place
a remembered name
a remembered face


and I?

Well, I rest my case....

For I am nothing
but a sinner
in need of grace


Eileen Manassian

- Halloween Zombies -

Passed the old church at midnight
Night time dark, damp and windy
Thoughts about coming home to a warm bed
Hear sounds from the bushes and trees
Glimpsing human shadows
They move slowly and very quiet
The wind comes against me with a rotten smell
The smell is indescribable nauseating
The lights of a car further down the street
gives me a cruel picture
Three human figures indented and rotting faces
Apathetic and dull but driven by the will to kill
The car is advancing by my side, the driver he knows he's seen it before
Zombies love this place at midnight
Never go here alone on the night of Halloween

Who has not heard of it ....
I can still smell the rotten smell





Sponsor	Leonora Galinta
Contest Name	Halloween Poem Contest with Only 1 theme.




15.10.2013
A-L  Andresen :)
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(2nd place in the contest)

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