I advocate for humanity, against the twisted blights..Hostile forces in society pharmica and any such-like' wars on
Economy.'s and others intrinsic rescource's'
Let it be hawks for hunting, and horses
For grass courses.' Let humanity thrive or demise
On its own.' With God to be our judge and Him alone.' So I open the gate to access the
Track, to run the race, no holding back, to
Battle the evil, i find in me, and in this world
That claims it is yet free.? I move we advance
to this option.' eschew any thought of
flight, yet battle for good values,
While claiming all ' of your ranters rights.'
Here's my cant hear me rant...
these are not a few of my favourite things
as it makes those who say them
sound like ding-a-lings
when people preface each sentence with 'So'
respond 'That's a very good question'
in reply to my query
or consistenly repeat the words 'You know'
and 'Like' inserted arbitrarily
in every other expressed
phrase unnecessarily
leaves me thinking 'Similar to?'
then instead of 'Hello'
to others they are meeting
whether friends or strangers
think 'Hey' an acceptable greeting
yet in the English language
it's really quite the shift
when they lift a verb from a noun
one such example being 'Gift'
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Mr. Owl ate my metal worm! What gall!”
“I swear he was at least ten feel tall!”
Nurse! “I saw gypsies run! Ooh!”
“Euston saw I was not Sue.”
Me mad? Am I, madam! shouted Paul.
A letter from your shadow:
We’ve been together for awhile now,
I think it's time for me to share my rant.
Why do you tremble when you speak?
It’s like sometimes you don’t even think.
You walk into things, careless of your surroundings,
And you’ve never seemed to be whats called “normal”,
Always standing out in the most awful ways.
Your hair dye was cool at first,
But now you do it after any minor inconvenience,
And im really starting to hate it.
You can’t ever decide what hair type you want,
straight , curly, bushy, or bald,
And quite frankly you’ll look just as horrible any way.
You have that god awful habit of biting your nails,
Do you like the way they taste,
Or are they just an escape?
I really hope you start to change,
im not sure how much more of your
“Temper tantrums”
I can take.
Sincerely, your shadow.
I know you
lived too long.
I used to
think I did too.
But, I can't
teach you this.
I'm busy
teaching myself
to be
nothing like you.
Rotten work
, picking scabs.
But no one
can do it but you.
I don't know why I'm so pissed off
It ain't the five hundred
And it ain't the storm
It's the dream that my writing has merit
And my sister won't give me the satisfaction
of thinking that I could do good
She's just like my mother was
Always looking down her nose
Saying I'll never be able to look after myself
Not believing in my dream but it's my dream
And I'm going to make it happen
She says "You don't want me to come up there
and take control of your finances!"
I want to be a writer of note, and I believe
I believe in the value of my work
There's nothing wrong with believing in a dream
And so, my Dear Sister when I'm rich and famous
the first thing I'm going to say to you is
"I told you so."
It gets into all the machines
and freezes up the works,
it coats the sidewalks and front steps,
and slipping on it hurts.
It sheens the railing so that when
you grab them gloves get wet,
it lays on branches so they break,
the living and the dead.
But worst of all, it coats the roads
in glass you cannot see,
you only know when your Honda
is skidding fast and free.
The snow will bring us great beauty,
stark sculptures carved in white,
and seeing those big, fluffy flakes
makes winter seem alright,
but freezing rain, I must confess,
is like the mosquito,
it probably serves some purpose,
what it is? I don’t know.
I hate to hate what nature makes,
but sometimes, it ain’t nice,
I call it scourge of the northeast,
I hate, I HATE, black ice.
It happens more than you would want it to
It happens more than you want to know
A child is left unattended on a bus somewhere
A preventable problem if you look in care
This time it was not a child hiding under the seat
Nor the girl in the back whose lunch not complete
This time near the wheelchair lift in the back
Was the older kid in the wheelchair at that
Driver nor monitor no longer employed for the bus
All they had to do was simply look and not fuss
So to all my bus driver and monitor friends I plea
Search front to back, and high and low before you flee!
A rant
Overcast, a doom of hot misery, is the day
windows are open, but the curtains are still
as ghosts on Christmas night
Every year at then in July and August, my
dream of living in a warm country fades
where is Alexander Dumas's mild garden
When the Arabs ruled the Algarve, they
too wrote about shaded gardens, wrote
verses of love while listening to songbirds
What's left of dreams, are beach umbrellas
colorful, but not a substitute for roses
and vulgar ale is not as sweet as wine
Grandstanders are crooks as far I can tell
Some grandstanders aren’t what can I say
A mixed system is needed I do yell
Dems weak and do zip homie. did foretell
Biden’s Israel mid-east plan good. I relay
Grandstanders are crooks as far I can tell
RNC foul;,get things done chum did tell
Ike did great things,Reagan too anyway
A mixed system is needed I do yell
Try the Green Party that party, I’ll sell
Green Party to quixotic , I do say
Grandstanders are crooks as far I can tell
Libertarian Party is quite swell
If they lean to left or right they be bad
A mixed system is needed I do yell
Most politicians certainly do “smell”
Is a multiparty system a fad ?
Grandstanders are crooks as far I can tell
A mixed system is needed I do yell
What lay’s buried in my memory
Is my memory sometimes lies
Bloody Mary quite contrary
The canary quickly dies
Now the monkey’s in the middle
You know some monkeys don’t mean jack
Only if you meddle with a monkey
With a monkey on your back
You’re all set on settling changes
And the hope that change can bring
But if that change don’t change the outcome
Then that change won’t change a thing
If the proof is in the pudding
Then I’m the pudding in the proof
When your output starts inputting
Is when your heart pumps out the truth
~Billy Hitz~
sad rant
This day, when you know this day will be like the prior day
When you wake up and the dream you dreamt was dull
as the day ahead and your breakfast is an apple and coffee
drunk from the same mug your wife gave you last Christmas.
When you wake up and find the truth is relative belongs to
the receiver and the only show in town are propaganda
relentlessly called from every news outlet till your head spin
When you know, everything you write has been written before
better than your pitiful efforts that are fuzzes of great people
musings through the ages.
Yet here you are in a world where you are out of toothpaste
the water in the shower is lukewarm, and where is the towel
I have soap in my eyes, am I, like the man, who fought windmills
doomed to think I can make a difference?
most ordinary people
news on TV set
seems to be pointless nonsense
masses do not care
A new year to begin with a laugh and a grin, effort put in to resolutions and
absolution for sins. Your own and your kin (though sometimes you can't win)
I burst like electrocution on January first full of solutions but without execution
it's the worst, no thirst for follow-through just submersed in feeling blue. Yet when the second comes around I feel bound to what I beckoned on the eve when I reckoned I would change for the better, whatever range that would measure, a change of sweater? Adopt an Irish setter? Be a go-getter, write more letters, arrange an exchange that's a little bit strange. On the third, be absurd, write a book and find the words, have a look at all the birds, clean the crannies and the nooks, see your granny and has she heard? That on the fourth you'll travel north to unravel mysteries of history and hope this year is truly the start of changing gears to face unruly fears of the heart, find the love that grew apart and yearn to learn if you're smart, not of the brain but the spirit that remains and take your turn to reap the gains. (tangible or imaginable)
I guess we'll just have see if 2023 will get the better of me.......
What would I want to say,
If I could rant today?
Don't waste your time, okay!
No hard feelings, my way,
No need to be dramatic,
Whinging is pathetic,
Sniveling I ignore, my way,
Ain't misbehaving, anyway,
Don't snivel about chicks.
Off buns, other birds exist!
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.