A person lay in a quaggy ditch
Who was dead as dead can be
And on a tree there hung a sign
For all the world to see.
'Here lies a person who had every chance
But was the type to make a fuss.
They were put to death for the sordid crime
Of refusing to think like us.'
Now to those who think this puffery
And far beyond what some would do.
Go about your business and enjoy your life...
Until they come for you.
The End
* Follow my cartoon at Webtoon Bob's Your Uncle.
Haggis hype
Bagpipes bleating like unshorn sheep
Tartan theatrical - military tatoos
Scotland cloning Dolly the Sheep
National pride - Robbie Burns, poet, bard of Auld Lang Syne
Highlands of ancient rocks, rift vallies
natural beauty, layers of worth
Loch Ness, geologic scooped, water serene
Nessie settled in depths, unseen
sonar detection elusive
marine monster of geeky charm
conjured in gift shop puffery
Nessie hat, Dragon like, tucked above protruding ears
In Edinburgh's historic streets
Whiskey fed men, burly, bearded
strut
wrapped in kilts
traditional garb
plaid, pleated, blessed, dressed
in woolen scratchiness (avoid a public itch)
Breezy kilts wrap manly legs menaced by
thigh high thistles
Scottish reach prickly
No matter
Scots men, image strong
(ignore the thistles and street whistles)
brimming swagger like malt liquor
skirting scavengers in exploration peaks
men in kilts (minimalism denied)
protectors of the realm
unafraid
to let it all hang out
Poem composed: March 10, 2021
Bugle boy,
little boy blew
A lot of white noise
have got many red necks
following you
That horn of consternation
wails loud and angry
Those temper tantrum toots
dead air cryo empty
Bugle boy,
little boy blue
Your scarlet letter tone
has got the murmuring crowd
idolizing you
Porcelain notes blown vex indiscreet,
wax smoke signal coldly
Pigeon drop carrier pox
gets Oval puffery sent by a trill tweet
Bugle boy,
little boy blew
Play the dirge Taps for democracy,
as a jingo strident blare
deafly accrue
Moody move the retrograde ears
with vacuum suction ease
Orchestrate billowy primal fears
on a nether octave breeze
Bugle boy,
a portrait of scorn
paints your little horn blue
Bugle boy,
so indigo dark is the sound
spreading ‘cross the pestilent plain
Fallow be yore golden amber grain,
as rasp bury berate pain
drips hollow noise of purple reign —
Void lips echoes disdain
Bugle boy,
little boy blew
A hateful horn of pulse penury
has cast hope askew
Bugle boy,
little boy blew
Seeds of doubt
upon the dying winds of liberty
Bittersweet is the knowin’
That being right...is sometimes wrong
That sure as the breeze keeps blowin’
Bein’ meek..is to be strong
Oftimes it’s best to not address
False claims put forth by fools and boors
Endure their efforts to impress
Lest they enter one’s mind’s doors
Nod as if the embellishments said
Were scripture writ ‘pon stone
The exaggerations true exclamations
Not erroneous to the very bone
The quiet satisfaction in
allowing a blowhard to blather on
Can be akin to Aloe on one’s skin
An annoying rash soon to be gone
It’s friends we need...in truth indeed
Suffer the puffery...It won’t last long
It’s tender mercy to their need
And always being right..
...can oftimes be wrong… `
on Friday
one pm
reporter
for the
standard-examiner
at s8
interview me
puffy puffery
it is the day before Saturday
one post meridiem (1 p.m.) demolishment
set in time
correspondent of journalist
falls quickly ephemeral, quick
standard and examiner
frolicking on Sections of eight
with a simple dialogue
of puffy puffery
safety unknown
Eight Pieces of Puffery
there once was a time in history
where yesterday, did exist
its debuted was convened
in a twelve to twelve physical functioning,
implemented handicapped
surreal not made up themes
where promotional statements
gave way to fluffy half thought out
airy puffy pieces
come indistinguishable, judgemental men
of individual deliberation of notion
seeking good acronyms of Cognitional news
come notorious pin (pen)
write not hide the truth
so to never fail but to impress
friend or foe
So nice of you to mention
from your lofty Bully Pulpit
the bravery and sacrifice
of honor driven men.
Spewing verbose platitudes
that smell of self inclusion,
when pack straps, boots, and pistol belts
have never chaffed your skin.
The microphone before you there
will magnify your ego;
with bold, practiced inflection
you'll dispense your puffery.
Styled and dyed, your hair was
never sweat or helmet flattened,
your suit is by Brooks Brothers
and your tie is by committee.
You segregate your audience
and know them before speaking,
a patriot for veterans,
fear monger for the weak.
Quote the bible for the clergy;
they want to hear you pray,
and praise the second amendment
when you address the N. R. A.
Tell the minions "God will guide you,"
keep in step the righteous;
and rants against "entitlements"
plays well in wealthy homes.
Your conjured Muslim bogey men
sell billion dollar bombers;
while at the local high school
there's a bake sale to buy books.
In our lives filled with lofty goals,
We may reach for much beyond our means,
And as interest is piqued and grows,
We sell wisps of notions as our pipe dreams,
Yet while news breaches concerned factions,
Of those who would off-hand discount our plan,
You may well consider these actions,
To be the final throes of a desperate man,
Watch me rush headlong at windmills,
Listen to my brave and salient battle cries,
For with nothing I easily afford the shills,
This puffery of pipe dreams which may sink or rise,
Take account of what may be lost,
Incredible credible reputations,
So to me the onus is tossed,
And I afford pipe dream facilitations,
But as prospect becomes tangible,
And peppered pipe dreams begin to spin,
Overt liability then manageable,
The need for my Quixotic services thin,
The writing’s on the wall distinct and clear,
Yet I long for the impossible it seems,
Where I keep the company of the grand seer,
And remain the nexus of fantastic pipe dreams.
- Before I get too much bad press here I want you to know
the term ‘Puffery’ means to build something up with flowery language.