Raving Mad Poems | Examples

Beat the Drums

Beat the drums; aye, beat the drums!
Make them go stark raving mad—
These likes of Emperor Jones. 1

The criminals' courts play house.
Adzes don't cut their own tails. 2
Where are Clinton, Bush, and Trump? 3

'We' are the people, the mob. 4
'We' are judges; 'we' punish.  
They should be ripped limb from limb.

Peaceful rallies will not do.
The criminals we'll tear up
On the streets across the globe.

Over!

1.14.2024

1 See The Emperor Jones, a short play by Eugene O'Neill.
2 A Persian adage
3 Three of the infamous slaughterers of the Bosnians, Afghans, Iraqis, and Syrians
4 See "I am the People, the Mob” by Carl Sandburg.


No comments, please!

The Water-Well

The water-well
There is near the houses a deep well
you can´t stick a bucket on a rope, much ropes  were needed.
They used to hire a man usually the village idiot
to spend his life hauling up buckets of water.
Villagers believed the water came from the Yanjing river in China.
A man who had gone to school disagreed; it is a deep
underground river, he said. For this, he was disliked.
One day he fell down the well, but since it was not
man made and smooth a big stone sticking out saved him
from falling all the way down.
Broke his leg in the fall, he did.
With a dangling leg he had to claw himself up, however
they gave him water to drink, his struggle made him thirsty.
When he got out, he spoke a strange language
the villagers, thought was Chines, it never struck them
he was stark raving mad.
Now, an electric pump was installed, they saw him limping
out of the village talking gibberish.

You Wake Up To Find Out Black and White Are the Same

You Wake Up To Find Out Black And White Are The Same

He said, yes, fear Fate when curves destroy the straight line
When the circle turns into a huge blacken square
And malignant rocks are the food on which you dine
And your saddest night's memories are what you share
Life spins out its tangles to catch cowardly fools
And dawn dances on the sweet memories you hold
Your build your comfort house on sand, with rusty tools
Loss catches you because on folly you are sold
Rumor and lies fly in to create a false truth
Your few friends believe you to be stark raving mad
You try and try to salvage your sad failing youth
Nobody believes your because tall tales are bad.

Life seems to be wrong and a most vicious game.
You wake up to find out black and white are the same.

Robert J. Lindley, Sonnet

Nov. 5th 1975

Useless Article

At the age of 85
I feel lucky to be alive
Many of my friends are dead
Molly, Jane and her husband, Fred.
Molly went raving mad
Visiting her was more than sad
She did not recognise me,
She asked me to bring her a cup of tea
I had to call a nurse
The nurse that answered
Looked very terse
She grabbed me by the arm and said
"Undress immediately and get back to bed."
Suddenly I could not breathe,
I buttoned my coat and hastened to leave
My friend Jane and her husband Fred,
Both died one night when getting ready for bed.
Fred unexpectedly passed out on the floor,
Jane died of fright at what she saw.
My friends are all dropping like flies,
My relatives too are doing likewise.
I am not looking for pity,
I think God has forgotten about me.

Nit Up

If you are the mother of Vlad
Your heart is increasingly sad
Vlad just wants more ground
The whole world has found
That bugger is stark raving mad!

The Jovian Nature of Creation

I told that guy in the trilby hat
that when we create something in our mind
and push it out into the universe willing it to manifest,
it will, in some way, manifest,
though maybe not in the way we expected.
It may appear in the small print of creation
perhaps as a footnote or an addendum.

Trilby hat man gawps at me
as if I'd gone raving mad.

I blithely continue:

“if a cowbird comes to nest in your garden
then goats or cattle will visit your cabbage patch.
not now maybe, maybe never,
but the possibility hovers.”

I notice his trilby is trembling now,
he’s backing away from me
spluttering in outraged disbelief.

As I watch him depart, I have a vision:
The trilby catching fire while on his head;
naturally this will not do.
I imagine a rain cloud drenching him
then LO
It rained.

The Well

The water well
There is near the houses a deep well
you can´t stick a bucket on a rope many ropes are needed.
They used to hire a man usually the village idiot
to spend his life hauling up buckets of water.
Villagers believed the water came from the Yanjing river
A man who had gone to school disagreed; it is a deep
underground river, he said. For this, he was disliked.
One day he fell down the well, but since it was not
manmade and smooth a big stone sticking out saved him
from falling all the way down.
Broke his leg in the fall, he did.
With a dangling leg he had to claw himself up, however
they gave him water to drink, his struggle made him thirsty.
When he got out, he spoke a strange language
the villagers, thought was Chines, it never struck them
he was stark raving mad.
Now, an electric pump was installed, they saw him limping
out of the village talking gibberish.

Don'T Believe Everything You See

I met a guy in the dairy section of my local grocery store 
He was carrying an over-the-shoulder, leather purse 
He had a purple scarf around his neck, what could be worse? 
The fellow was driving a great big, black funeral hearse! 

A buxom young lady was shopping in the produce aisles 
I could have sworn she had had extensive lipo-suction 
Her enormous biceps were a work under construction 
She had three children with her, an obvious deduction. 

I moved on to the meat department and stood watching 
An old lady maneuvering an enormous motorized grip 
Ordered a butcher to cut her a three-pound New York strip 
While she was waiting she did a perfect backward, reverse flip. 

Tell me, before I go stark raving, mad-as-a-hatter crazy 
I am jumping too quickly to unwarranted conclusions 
That after what I saw I should immediately go into seclusion  
It only seems that way; clearly, I am victim of my own delusions. 

 
Written March 18, 2021 
Submitted to Kai Michael Neumann’s 
“It Only Seems That Way” contest

Reverie of Real Poetry

MASTERS
                    Some false masters
                   only teach A, not B
                   only Y, not X ...

                          PRIESTS
                    Fathers order
                    the body present,
                    not the runaway soul ...

                           CRAZY
                    Raving mad people
                    are assisted by
                    crazy of occasion ...

                            HEAVEN
                     Heaven is for everyone,
                     redeemed sinners
                     illusion fishermen ...

Family

The Quarantine makes people sad
But working at home makes them glad
Though some may pout
It all works out
It drove the wife stark raving mad!

Adhd Is

Feeling like I can’t and you can
Cease to steady, my own hands
Trying to please, for affirmation
Seeing no potential in my creations

Knowing the result before beginning 
Only finding pleasure, when, sinning
A sense of guilt, when raving mad
Imagining emotions, you may have had

Wearing your shoes, neglecting my own
Only escaping, when completely alone 
Loving my neighbors and despising them too
Never quite catching, up to you

Beginning every day, with the same goal
Do something that matters, become, whole
Ending each night, at war with myself
Replaying my failures and emotions, felt

Loon Who Would Love a Lark

Loon Who Would Love a Lark

When Trump sang we had to hark;
Raving mad who seemed so stark;
Angels said,
He wet bed;
Loony as a loon that loved a lark.

Jim Horn

Loon Who Would Love a Lark

Loon Who Would Love a Lark

When Trump sang we had to hark;
Raving mad who seemed so stark;
Angels said,
He wet bed;
Loony as a loon that loved a lark.

Jim Horn

A Night Shepherd

Saša Milivojev - A NIGHT SHEPHERD

 

A firefly shines

It dawns in the distance

I change my clothes

In the dark silence

It’s freezing cold

A cathedral

I will open its door

I will climb the stairs

I will jump on the clock’s hands

A sheep is rolling over the sky

The priest is waking up

Time takes away my staff

And the constellation is raving mad again

 


Saša Milivojev

www.sasamilivojev.com

Always Will Wonder What If and More

Always Will Wonder What If

I always had wondered what if,
When we were to take a whiff,
Of who;
Maybe you;
Can cruddy smell nock us over cliff.

Jim Horn

Have Been Told By Bernie

What we have been told by Burnie,
Best if Trump hire another attorney,
Gland sebaceous,
Being voracious,
Or get lost while on a long journey.

Jim Horn

Must be Buick looking for a lark;
Near street corner trying to park;
Around spin;
Dark again;
Saw Trump raving mad while stark.

Jim Horn

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