Rooting for zany and cunning Daffy Duck
wrong place wrong time ~ somewhat of a schmuck
at the wrong end of Elmer Fudd’s gun
not much fun to always be on the run
AP: 3rd place 2025
the times I've been here, words in hand
mind-sculpting verse of phrases, grand
that speak of that, the cruelest school
those moments, rife, I've played a fool ...
laid bare this soul, with one broad knife
sweet dreams of romance, love and life
my heart bled, staining some girl's feet
whose care for me was ne'er as sweet ...
and shared in poems for worlds to read
midst hopes they might just fill a need
while all I've done, with sheet and pen
is prove I'm that damned fool ... again ...
the deepest feelings - spilled for those
I loved and lost, who thumb their nose
at odes brought forth, or all such gems
so polished smooth with tears, for them ...
it's always me, this pining schmuck
that's tumbled down on lover's luck
now writing chiseled stanzas, meant
for some fair lass whose love I spent ...
why won't the sweetest phrase impart
some love to make those longings start
for ME, this fool with chances, slim ...
some sweet girl writes a poem ... for HIM?
Hey Universe
Why you coming at me so hard?
Did I do some sht to piss ya off?
Or you just playing some evil part?
Its all getting kinda rough
Im not nearly tough enough
To get through this & come up
been kickin me down so much
Im bruised & lumped up
in every possible spot I can touch
I've already accepted i got no luck
But seriously, like what the fck?
You Actin like a fckin schmuck
When all I ever be asking for
Is acceptance & love
Got me questioning what i did
that was so wrong?
Sht been so bad for so long
I just wana finally
find where I belong
I wanna smile forreal n not
Have to fake how I feel
Breaking down every day bc
I cant deal
An honestly idek if
All of this is even real
...I hope not
Luck
Miracle Man
11/21/2024
In life I’ve found,
Rewards seldom came without a price tag,
many declare they were lucky and brag.
But I've never held to this thing called luck,
to wait on chance makes me feel like a schmuck.
Many times due diligence was my price,
I won't listen to a strangers advice.
Both good and bad sometimes happens to all,
the frequency is God's, it’s not my call.
I've lived a full life with many a test,
Not feeling lucky but always blessed.
The American people have
Lost their minds.
Electing the SCHMUCK,
One more time.
MR. Trump, a dangerous
Man-child.
A convicted FELON,
Running wild.
No consequences to
His actions.
A traveling Circus,
THE MAIN ATTRACTION.
He is a FASCIST, RACIST, SEXIST,
Preaching his Campaign.
He BABBLES on and on and on,
The man is INSANE.
A MORON in charge of the
Greatest place on EARTH.
Where we force our Women,
To give BIRTH.
The white men will be
The least affected.
Anything else will
Be REJECTED.
WOMEN, NON-WHITE and
THE LGBTQ.
Pay attention they are
Coming for you.
OUR BODIES,
THEIR CHOICE.
We no longer have
A VOICE.
No more BLUE skies,
cold dark RAIN.
We will live and die,
IN THE HOUSE OF PAIN.
Turbo1904 ?
Some say zed and some say zee
Some say yes and some says oui
Some say moi and some say me
But the whole darned world says huh
Some say poo and some say poop
Some say broth and some say soup
Some say gravy some say jus
But the whole darned world says huh
Some say film and some say movie
Some say fab and some say groovy
Some say dance and some say boogie
But the whole darned world says huh
Some say dollar, some say buck
Some say lorry, some say truck
Some say loser, some say schmuck
But the whole darned world says huh
Some say cram and some say swat
Some say sexy, some say hot
Some say eh? and some say what?
But the whole darned world says huh
The arc of teeth
the rising and falling of words
Transcribing tangled knots
sayings nonsensical
Incisors gnashing
bone scrapes the blade.
Keep searching, keep searching,
they are meant to be found,
to be bound by record.
Between both pens at
the side of the skull
Is the archive of every schmuck
sentenced
To receive the cold descent
Upon the neck’s nape
that feels frigid
Is the greeting of
a friend’s final conversation.
Miss Candy P. Cane was in a bit of a fix.
Her friend Miss L. Toe was not able to mix.
They were at a party with Mr. Chris T. Mess.
He wanted Candy alone, he had to confess.
Can’t she find anyone? He asked his sweetie dear.
Maybe she could go with Sir Red N. Deer?
Miss Candy P. Cane wished she had not brought Miss L.
Being alone with her honey would have been swell.
But she was a loyal friend, and she was kind of stuck.
Surely there is someone else? She asked. Another schmuck?
Miss L. Toe heard them, and marched off angry that day.
They have never repaired their friendship, most people say.
“If someone tells you, you can’t do something.
You say: yes I can, I’m doing it right now.”
---- Dinner For Schmucks.
This is it;
the one secret that is right out in the open:-
You are perfectly in-tune;
you are playing your own life-music,
you’re both the instrument and all the notes,
but you have to accept this.
This acceptance will cure your craziness.
It stops dead all expectations
because what you expect
is not what this happening of you is.
You are doing it already.
You are not just any schmuck,
you are the one and only schmuck.
Now your purpose; now your secret
is fully revealed to you – you cannot blow it
no matter how hard you try.
Go happen.
one eight-hundred NOTHING
that’s the number that you call
that charge-free line to NO ONE
when you’ve cracked a hip or fall
should you have dire emergencies
and need some schmuck to care
dial six-six-eight, four-four-six-four
it’s for sure … I WON’T be there.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, April 13, 2023
In a story book, I got stuck
and couldn’t find a way to break free.
What a lousy day, just my luck!
Wondered why this happened to ME!
I looked for little Alice, she
wouldn't show me her window – dumbstruck!
Jack Horner, he could not believe
in a story book, I got stuck.
I looked all around and snuck
a brief word with the fairies three.
They tried to raise a pumpkin truck
and couldn’t find a way to break free.
With all my might and self-esprit
I began to huff, puff, and cluck.
What could I do stuck on page three?
What a lousy day, just my luck!
What a mess was this stinking muck.
Aha! I’d find Humpty Dumpty!
He was cracked, but not a schmuck.
Wondered why this happened to ME!
Humpty cheered when hearing my plea
He was looking to gain a buck.
No wallet, we two couldn’t agree,
so I am still running amuck
in a story book.
Though few drive off-road in their truck
Pick-up owners have run amok
Having a tail gate
Their mood will elate
While the cabin carries a schmuck
Author's note: A pass to those folks who use their truck for business on a regular basis. However, a status truck reveals a weak mind and hurts the environment more than a "normal" car. Those are already bad enough.
Lives a poet in the United States
Who's sick and tired of insolent ingrates
She went on a diet
And thinks you should try it
It doesn't involve the food on your plates
You're not allowed to talk of politics
Can't claim elections were stolen with tricks
Headlines are taboo
Evening news is, too
The country is a mess and needs a fix
Trump's big lie is never to be swallowed
In the mud he's slung, regret you've wallowed
The truth always comes out
Of that, she has no doubt
He's not a good leader to be followed
She will not boast of President Biden
His mental faculties may be slidin'
Age has taken a toll
On not reaching his goal
The road to Democracy must widen.
The diet will not drop pounds from your weight
But you'll be happier without debate
She's not being a schmuck
And is no longer stuck
In quagmires of governmental stalemate
A shootout on Main Street at high noon, Buck
Bring your rusty six-shooter -- lots of luck!
You’ll need it, you see,
When up against me
Nobody survives calling me a schmuck!
FIRST PLACE WINNER
Written May 4, 2022
for "High Noon" Poetry Contest
sponsored by Joseph May
10-10-5-5-10 syllables
Suffering is normal, being fortunate is luck
we live the first day and die the second.
You're just simply Human, I’d reckon
So, while death is running amok,
mature and accept that your mind is a schmuck.
It's simple really, but your consciousness would disagree,
because it's in your thoughts that you think life is free.
Don't be surprised, this behavior is more than beckoned.
Fruits will not be handed to you on a silver platter,
it will likely be on a rubbish lid.
Do you deserve it or not? It doesn’t matter.
Unfortunately, the meaning went over your head, God forbid.
What I’m saying is that your time is limited,
and while you frolic and dance, death had visited.
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