Serfs Poems | Examples

Tandoori or Tangerine Tan shorts no2

Satsuma Tumour

Sense of Humour?

That Groomer Rumour


Cometh the Hour

Cometh the TAN!


People Power Glower should Flower

Grassy brassy knolls

But proles at the polls

Sold their Souls


To joust like Faust

Ignore Marcel Proust

Cower before the Ivory Tower


Odd bod elite’s law 

Tweets of Sod and God

No Enlightening


Repeats the prism

Or algorithm beats
 
Every criticism schism 

“Ism”..a frightening..lightning rod


Pot..black..kettle knack

Debauched cheats pedal to the metal

Out of whack flak attack 

Unsettle our mettle

Plot to settle that score


Scorched and torched serfs

Any petal in fine fettle

& the earth's core

Dairy fairies

****s Gluts
Societal Stutter
More Cuts
Suicidal Splutter
Serfs Ruts

Should be wary
Weary of the scary
Leery lairy Dairy Fairy

Utter Nutter
If's But's
Gutter Mutter
Tut Tutts

Because of their ilk
Silk road's now
Bow..cash cow 
Kowtow to 
Road of Milk

Nadirs Clutter
Wing Nuts
Flitter Flutter
Garters from Guts
Soften your butter

Everything shudders
Will explode
Due to the udders

Rivers life
Givers rotten
Nature rife
Delivers from 
Strife forgotten
Moolah besotten

Milk powder
Or
Seafood chowder

Dairy highway dismay
All day diner
Cosplay for our new 
Crueler ruler.. China
 
Hip hip Hooray!

Musk is a Farley's Rusk

Demagogue not pedagogue

Aghast & agog

Perfidious insidious fog

Reeks of the past

Slog through the smog

Musk seeks to flog

Earth & its serfs

Downed & drowned

In his dystopian bog

Even starry nights

Elon’s neon satellites

Seedier media perch

Utter nutter besmirch

Thriving in the gutter

Conniving depriving church

Vex "X" & Tech T-Rex hex

Or next bogus Rogan

Bogan slogans prevails

Alpha male tales derails

Sod the planet’s scars

Cruise trips to Mars

Odd bod driverless cars

Spawn a fake Tarantino 

Remake.."Musk till Dawn"

Devil may care lair..

Loads of lies..skies chock a block 

With spies...all eyes on the prize

Everyone Everything Everywhere dies

Let's not parley with gnarly snarly

Musk...takes the mickey & the bicky

In the dock for running amok

Time guys he did finally own up

To being as grown up..

As a Farley’s Rusk (a British biscuit/bicky for a wee kiddy)

Ashes In Shame

Bus drivers and plumbers
don’t start the wars
The nurse or school teacher
too busy inured
What’s common among us
with tasks to withstand
The elected entitled
our blood on their hands
Without a real job
and whose terms don’t expire
They poison the well
with aggrandizements dire
To them it’s a game
that they cannot lose
Their voters just pawns
in a continual ruse
But one day the reaper
with sickle in hand
Will come to reclaim
what’s stolen bedamned
And the serfs will rise up
in an infamous rage
The despots left burning
—their ashes in shame

(Radnor Pennsylvania: June, 2023)

Lady Godiva

Woman of rationality
not known to all men.
Countess of Mercia,
scent of a woman.
Lover of masses,
dream of sashes.
In anticipation
no other man tried,
Wooing the coveted one
fear of life taunts
nobody ever haunts.
A modest woman she was,
a clean woman that was.
Up in the hills
travels without fear,
down the hills she fills
with her voice people hear.
In many trails
she hops and drills.
In open seas
she crave for krills.
Strong woman thinks all,
grown woman walks tall.
In each flight she makes
no man's plight is at stake.
Never wondered how hard life is
In an instant, life heals.
For the strong woman without fierce
no hurting arrows can pierce.
Savagery is not bravery
for any lass of Coventry.
Thinking of good deeds that last
no heroism will rust.
Aigrettes pose as nobility,
not for lass of simplicity.
Half of Leofric,
Piece of heroic.
Levy for serfs,
burden of turfs.
Then one day casted
a lean woman's body...
body of beauty,
honor of beauty.
How the heroine perished
nobody cherished.
A living legend she was,
a myth that never was!

To Acute Awareness

Let us not wallow in a quixotic stupor;
Becoming their silly food-stamped serfs:-
Maudlin beings drained of all our vigor—
Doomed to old slave quarters berths.

Little Pumpkins

In remembrance of Malvina Reynolds

Little Pumpkins in a pumpkin patch
Little Pumpkins growing side-by-side
Little Pumpkins taste of sticky taffy
Little Pumpkins in a row.

There's a black one, a sea-green one
Polkadot and honey-yellow one
But not one's an orange one
And I wanted one that was orange.

All the people in the pumpkins
Pay rent to Peter-Peter and
He's their landlord they're his serfs and
He deflowers their every bride.

All their children dry the pumpkin seeds
And plant them in the pumpkin patch
And the pumpkins become fat and firm
And the children move right in.

There are puce ones there are white ones
One's vermilion, one is indigo
And they all taste just like sticky taffy
Which was left out in the sun.

Served Free

freed verses
are
served free

to

serve serfs
like
severed-fees

to

reverse-feed
what's
severed seed

as

free versed
that's
deserved free


stan sand

Stalemate

~~A chess match is an opaque mirror into societal clash
slippery rules and taboos playing upon a checkered past
balcony kings and queens glaring down on the lower caste.
Ramparts buttressing crooked flanks, serfs in the murky front
devouring dirt, taking the brunt of many skirmishes to come.
Senators riding sky horses, gliding so high above the fight
neighing nonsense -fanning their brand of hell fire lies.
Speedy tongued bishops blitzing on the slanted slide
in our faces, showcasing only the wrongs of our lives.

Black and white toppling ungracefully to the side.
Flimsy smiles and flint handshakes without dialogue  
another fiery stalemate on the blazing horizon~~

Starting From Scratch With Ol' Scratch

Starting from Scratch with Ol’ Scratch
by Michael R. Burch

Love, with a small, fatalistic sigh
went to the ovens. Please don’t bother to cry.
You could have saved her, but you were all tied up
complaining about the Jews to Reichmeister Grupp.

Scratch that. You were born after World War II.
You had something more important to do:
while the children of the Nakba were perishing in Gaza
with the complicity of your government, you had a noble cause (a
religious tract against homosexual marriage
and various things gods and evangelists disparage.)

Jesus will grok you? Ah, yes, I’m quite sure
that your intentions were good and ineluctably pure.
After all, what the hell does he care about Palestinians?
Certainly, Christians were right about serfs, slaves and Indians.
Scratch that. You’re one of the Devil’s minions.

From Eden To the Outhouse

From Eden to the outhouse 
in just a few thousand years
blooming weapons of mass extinction
from the seeds of our many gifts..
A volley of nuclear warheads is coming
within a generation or so
the wealthy and powerful will sashay 
to heated bunkers-stocked with tomorrow...
While above, the serfs break dance 
like ants in a boiling water bath.
There'll be no Jesus balm to sooth their nuclear rash,
Eden forever poisoned by the oily ego of man.

I Thought

Some other times I thought 
Where does life turns to us? 
Is it nobles wearing Gold shoes? 
Or the serfs in rag that's loose? 

Some other times I thought 
People whose life are lost 
Doubted sin, innocent beings
Brutally maimed just in a blink 

Some other times I thought 
Life is a cause for curse 
People can't live in their very best
So they rather hid sweats under wares

Some other times I thought 
People that are in fear of lose
Love, lifes, virtues that are dearest to them
And in cares and tears wanting someones help

I thought, I think, still hopes
When would life have a thought? 
Of many heart broken, lovelorn
Who once again still wishes joy.

A Good King Never Eats the Serfs

Grandson discovered a magical land called, "under the bed".
Unearthing a tin of jingling coins. 
I told him:
"The Big one is the king; all the rest are serfs".  
He looked at me baby baffled, then let out a baby burp...
Without warning, he tried popping a serf into his mouth.
I pried it from his tiny mitt, and he cried.
so, I soothed him with a little lullaby..
~Little king-little king always love the serfs.
A good king would never eat the serfs. ~

At the Footbridge

At The Footbridge

Two Armies

One shoots off another salvo
The other fires back with gusto
Each offended
At the aggression of the other

At the footbridge
Foot soldiers die
In agony you hear them all bloodied, cry
War is a must and you wonder why?

Kings collect gold
Queens their ladies in waiting
Castles must be filled
With linens and fine silver laden

All with justifications
For the death of serfs and those of the invasion

It Doesn'T Matter What You Think

It Doesn't Matter What you Think
By Franklin Price
2/20/2017

It doesn't matter what you think
Of Trump the president
What matters is  he ran to win
And to the polls we went

Tired of dysfunctional Washington
The place of good old boys
We the people rose and spoke
To overcome their useless noise

He promised to make us great again
Time will tell if will or not
The message is quite evident
**** or get off the pot

The people have elected him
To rid the gridlock there
The establishment in Washington
There so long they didn't care

Mattered only they held office
Were America's elite
We're tired of being serfs and slaves
It's time they knelt and kissed our feet

Trump is now the president
He's our commonality
Has most the people interested
Now let's see what we will see 

For or against it matters not
What matters is we care
This would not be happening
If Hillary was there

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