Retard Poems | Examples

Walking On Eggshells

Walking On Eggshells 
I’m not putting up with this s###
Always offended 
Always the one in the workforce 
Always playing the victim 
Troublemaker 
Just downright stubborn 
Treading on water 
Walking on eggshells 
Anything to set them off 
Push them over the edge 
Your fired 
Looking for the negative attention 
Feed their insecurities 
Probably in their 40’s and 50’s 
They need to retire 
Put on a happy face retard 
I don’t have time for this 
Childish behaviors 
Put your big boy pants on 
Stop whining and complaining 
Grow up 
And get to work 
I can’t wipe your ass forever 
Do the work your-self

Give me the Rhythm

Well written poetry should have a rhyme
Be pleasing to the eye and to the ear.
With words that then flow down the page in line
When read out loud the rhythm should be clear.

The subject matter must not be too hard
To work out what the writer's words convey.
 A 'jumble sale' of words will just retard
The essence that the prose was mean't to say.

Therefore, before one settles down to write
Be mindful that the style you do select
When read, will bring the reader much delight
Because your choice of words to them connect.

We are the scribe when all is said and done
So let your rhythm be the perfect one.

The ABC’s

Hi A!
Die B...
Hope you’re okay C!
What the hell D?
I don’t even know where you are E.
Stop, I don’t like you back F.
Hi G!!

Are we friends H?
Man you a hoe I.
KILL YOURSELF J. YOU STUPID JUNKIE.
Why do you treat me differently K?

Hi L!
You’re actually mediocre M. 
You make me mad N.
Hi O!
Forget you P.

HI Q! IM YOUR NEW COUSIN!
Forget you too R, you’re such a retard.
I MISS YOU SO MUCH S!!

Get your sister under control T.
Hi U..
HI V!!

HI ILYSM W!!!!
Hope you’re better now X.
Where are you Y??
Get out Z, you’re a zero.

Capture The Essence

Know the stakes before the show.
Risk all; let it go!
Courageously make that climb
Bring your Spark in time.
Life is much more than a walk,
A picnic or a jog in the park
There's a Duty-Call from Above.
It's simply just to fall-in-love
With Truth, life and to trust.
It's The Essence; the core to the crust
"But I don't understand!" you say
"What would be the cost to pay?"
With just a glimpse of happiness in you
Authenticity: be faithful and true,
Like fireworks bursting in air
Reveals The Essence: That we care!
Life and changes are hard.
But Fight regrets and fear retard.
Be on an expert and responsible team
Persevering, sharing God's dream
Like a child inquisitive,
Learning, initiating and sensitive.
The Essence is also like a mother
Jumping up to help another,
Being sweet, kind and genuinely YOU,
Making others better too,
Bringing out the Best, no doubt
With no time to "chicken-out"!
So, live in the Essence
By your heart, in every sense,
Sophisticated, elaborate and extravagant!
Covering over us God's Love is bent.
You will see a new and better plan, 
If only to be still and listen, you can?

The Undying Voices

1952. Curfew was on and roads were vacant.
Some armed hands were still haunting there
To hush every possible roar or uprising rant
With the spiteful hammer of thunderous fear.

But a murmur of revolution was soon heard
As thousands of spirited people marched on
With the resilience of restoring their barred
Language from the threshold of extinction.

They protested peacefully carrying placard
Of their clauses until the armed hands fired
And soaked them with blood in vain to retard
Undying voices that can never be smothered.

Each drop of the sacrificial blood has built
the monument of revolution that will always
Shine as a star of Devotion and forever quilt
The vigorous souls with its contagious rays.

Their immortal death blazed a fire of liberty
in hearts that were in the grip of oppression.
Soon, it became a furnace that burned Deity
Of Oppression and Bangladesh was born.

Training a Gambler

I shall have you richly prepared
For the notorious life of card:
Have you grasp another life hard,
By far tougher than that of bard;
What one does, all the time on guard;
For steady losses: A Retard.
You’ll figure why saints want it barred
Or with a pen for the same starred...

The music one craves for: Hard rock
But while it plays obeying clock.
Timely entry of phoned cops block; 
At the closest road mounted block!

You could do with a screening smock;
Black spectacles for eyes that mock.
Your victors plans to slaughter cock
Not where rivals could their guns cock…

Don’t rule out a “Stand in the dock”
And cash there-from don’t goods stock…

The Stone Curse

the Stone curse is what my mother called it
we have much mental illness in the family
on dad’s side – the Stone side.
one of my uncles is schizophrenic
another committed suicide,
he was super sensitive
I know he was learning disabled,
but that is not mental
is it?

if you think you are getting the Stone curse,
see someone right away,
mom cautioned giving weird looks toward dad who never heard her
I felt like a gangly horse who had better never show her teeth
I knew I probably had it, being called “retard” and “stupid” most of my life

the Stone family has now included people who are bi-polar,
and Alzheimer and antisocial.
Surely this is not because they are Stone’s, right?
I would ask my mother but she is not here.
I am terrified others will find out.
I am sure I have something.

Good Things To Know

If a donkey carries a load of wise books,
that doesn't make the beast intelligent.
It’s still a donkey.

An ass is always the offspring of an even bigger ass.

God is you doing bad things, blaming him
just makes it worse.

If at all possible try not to make a child in your image,
especially if your own image is a work in progress.

Problems that you cannot solve do not matter.
Problems that are solvable often indicate that you
were wrong then and now.

If anyone claims to be an expert in anything,
walk away quickly whistling loudly.

Bird poop in your hair is not a blessing.

Fake it, knowing you will never convince anyone,
least of all yourself.

Eating only vegetables may well retard your
muscle memory and stunt your hair growth.

Never claim to be a poet until you have
shed 10 years of mind-sweat,
and discarded enough early crap to
fill a dumpster.

Edit yourself not just what you write.

If you come across a semi-naked guru,
test him by stealing his loin cloth.
If he really has given up all worldly things
he will not run after you with an axe,
but of course you know he will.

Getting To Imagination Land

At eight, she could not wait to go to sleep.
Imagination land was where she wanted to live.
Things changed rapidly, but all toward the good.
People were kind to each other.
Hugs and kisses were allowed.
Your parents did not make fun of you for crying.
No one called you stupid, idiot or retard.
She could not wait to get to her bed.
Dreaming was the highlight of her day and her night.

A Brain Freezer

Two days have gone by and no new poems
What's happening to this silly old geezer
Am I having one of those damn writer's blocks
Those famous deadly brain freezers

Surely there's a bunch more stuff inside
It just isn't making itself known
Usually I'm a very patient old son of a gun
Hope this old mind hasn't blown

All those poems I had stored up for months
Getting near the end of the pile
Kinda frightened like a little kid, I am
My reputation's gonna be defiled

Think I'll lie down for a couple of days
To let my old bean-o recharge
Then I'll be back to my prolific old self
Sure feel like an absolute retard

They say it can happen to the best of us guys
Thought I was above all that stuff
So much for that “holier that thou” attitude
You guy's have seen through my bluff

A Brain Freeze

Two days have gone by and no new poems
What's happening to this silly old geezer
Am I having one of those damn writer's blocks
Those famous deadly brain freezes

Surely there's a bunch more stuff inside
It just isn't making itself known
Usually I'm a very patient old son of a gun
Hope this old mind hasn't blown

All those poems I had stored up for months
Getting near the end of the pile
Kinda frightened like a little kid, I am
My reputation's gonna be defiled

Think I'll lie down for a couple of days
To let my old bean-o recharge
Then I'll be back to my prolific old self
Sure feel like an absolute retard

They say it can happen to the best of us guys
Thought I was above all that stuff
So much for that “holier than thou” attitude
You guy's have seen through my bluff

Circle Up Chums

Circle up chums
My five-minute friends
Let serene quips
Raucous banter
And sudsy bellows
Ooze from every plank
Stable and knotted enough
To absorb the welts below
Testimony joins the fun
Sworn in by tongues
Worth of beggar truth
Slapped with blackened humor
Salted to retard the melt
In favor of icy declaration
Some conjure regimes
From ancient repression
Or schooled outside the core
To relinquish victory
Unattainable and undeterred
For degradation spawned
From amusement's render
Because nocturnal chatter
Logs off the clock
To join the mythic lore.

(3/12/08)

Some Delicious Couplets

I  prefer to  be sober with a box of coconut candies.
Than to be with a conceited bloke, who thinks he more 
is just randy!

Or to be with a poet who offers me champagne, 
Thinking, he the Bard, re-incarnated!
Please, I beg, do not get me started.

How about  being with a poet, with Baked
Alaska, flambé!
Not out to impress me, with his deep poetry.
Just to frolic madly, shouting, “Ole.”

I need a day off, with creme puffs and stop 
being so serious!
Everyone knows I have yet to pen a limerick!
A retard, I am, because of this?


                   6/10/2021

Like a Silent Graveyard

Like a silent graveyard 

Past that boulevard 
Lies a silent graveyard,
Where this skin retard
And miseries  within ungird. 

I am now silent as that graveyard,
Pieces of mine,here,I safeguard 
In this silence so subtle and hard,
Pain and sufferings have got unbarred.

Multiple emotions I learned ,
Some are still  unheard,
In this silence all  evaded
Like a caged bird set freed. 

I’m  here like a bygone body ,
In this graveyard ,so holy,
Abducted by the earned felicity
Not even this flesh remained lastly.

By Trump Again Are Scarred

By Trump Again Are Scarred

we did have it hard
by Trump again are scarred
he is a retard

Jim Horn

Close to 8,000 poems.

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