Smarmy Poems

Yahoo Army Navy Football Game

Awesome to see the 47th President.
And, soon to be, our new, White House Resident!
Being welcomed, warmly at this game,
Number 47…..elected by popular fame.

The USA chose him to run this nation free.
No longer an ugly weaponinzation tree!
War makers who sucked this nation dry.
Better go find another fish to fry.

No wonder Joy Reid shaved her head.
And smarmy,Don Lemon’s career is about dead!
Joe and Mika, please, go cry in your beer.
Endless negativity and lies, ends in our cheers!

                             12/14/2024
    
                          Merry Christmas 
                          Happy Chanukah
  

A Lady and a Pillow

A lady and a pillow

I read about a woman who, when going abroad
takes a pillow from her bedroom, one with printed flowers
and smells of yesterday’s shampoo and rinse
not a silly little heart-shaped pillow was given to 
the newlywed with a knowing wink and smarmy smile
 so, what do I know about anatomy or the structure 
of a skeleton?
The lady with her cushion doesn’t stay in the youth motel
 but a proper hotel, where they say: “Does the madam 
like a cup of tea? She sweetly smiles, wishing the question 
had been of a sultry nature
The roaming woman visits art galleries and museums
 dines at a nice restaurant that has white tablecloths
 wide chairs and soft music
“Does the madam like dessert?” She sweetly smiles, but
wishes the question had been daring, what she whispers
to the pillow.

Gateway

Outside the sanctum, clenched teeth, tension, 
    a sense of being spun slowly, in comical ocean drift
    Bobbed cork barely able to rein my orientation. 

    Luckily, current flux of haphazard happening flapped 
    a variable vantage.
    Blown as though by silk hankie butterfly blessing 
    launched under lead light detail dragonfly wing
    
    Inside the sluice. 
    tender seagrass arms greet me, surprise caressed 
    Silky entry to a tepid tub, a calm community
    of smug inner sanctum club members, afloat. 

    Blind to bedlam, their faces automatically accepting
    Smarmy, aloof, knowing the code
    Clicked into correct holding pattern
 
    Galvanized now among the longed for, 
    unlocked passage
    Boasts a right angled me, porthole refuge
    Catatonic sanctum immune to struggle
    Bay of steady abundance 

    Top step mission for admission somehow granted mine
    Spotlight shon on my cloned social demeanor, 
    Meticulously honed modesty of highbrow gallery. 





      24th February
      Written for Contest: Gateway
      Sponsor: Constance La France

Vengeance

Your call is important to us
Says this smarmy bland voice
So please stay on the Line
As if we have any choice
They don’t have many staff now
Just a multi purpose call centre
The logical result of the work
Of that thrice  cursed inventor
Whose greatest brainchild was 
The automated answer machine
One of the greatest time wasters
This world has sadly ever seen.
How many die of apoplexy 
Not having  the resolve
To keep on waiting for
Their query to be solved.
I hope that inventor met 
An excruciating painful death
Lingering  hour after hour
Before taking his last breath
All the time hearing
Over and over again
Your death is important to us
We just don’t know when

Inexactitude

At water break, a wail for dust –
Fate sighs, for jest, has mused a blight,
And gamers throb, in bliss of lust,
Cast brawn and sweat to stoke a plight.
The devil’s kiss, the angel’s tear -
In raging muse, to conform dread,
In caring weep, to rescue drear,
In dance of life to dirge of death.
A throne, to seat the villain heart -
A pad, to ease the saintly knee -
In midst, feet stomp in chaotic march,
To play the mind, to cause folly.
Space, time and rotting starch –
Smarmy! The lucid platitude –
Heaven and hell, wait post the purge,
Sharing, man’s … inexactitude.

Smiles

This fact discerned
is wisdom hard-earned: 
Behind a quick, smarmy smile
may lurk artful guile.


April 23, 2021


April 23, 2021
entered in Brian Strand's All Yours (April 24) Contest    placed 1st


June 2, 2021
Contest: Bite Size Poem no. 4
Sponsor: Line Gauthier

Smarmy Lady

I once met a lady from Killarney 
Her tendencies leaned toward the smarmy 
Wore the briefest of shorts 
Couldn’t hide her big warts 
But, she could handle the Irish army. 

Written April 5, 2021

Wildlife 22

Wildlife 22

A bug-eyed and smarmy young rat,
Was eating a big lump of fat,
A guy that he knew,
Said "You can't! You're a Jew!"
He replied "It's not bacon you pratt!"

A Matter of Distrust

Possessing pure skepticism
allows me
to carry an air of longevity

Having to breathe in
false utterances,
the words of mendacious men
I could never trust

If you be at the opposite end
on the thought spectrum
of visible dust

Then persuade yourself
if you must

That everything is peachy keen;
because an oval echo,
from a yellow enamel orifice, 
placebo grin said so

Keep pulse listening
to the dunce reverberations
that smarmy gloat

Si, I do verily distrust that locust sound
every grimy vocal whit
As the green devouring wheeze abound,
grim reaper facts exist

So, Covid yourself
if you must

That none of the dying coughing is truly real,
because an ivory pair of coffin eyes
opaque hide behind a green curtain shade ill

There’s 19 different wavy versions:
Flagellated ear-rant vials of vapor duplicity
Inhale the infectious bah humbug,
give a callous shrug with an air of morbidity

Convince yourself
to believe a lie
of paper sawdust,
if you must

As for me,
the leper words of lecherous men,
I will always 
contagiously distrust

Hugs--Yes, Usually

When smarmy folks I KNOW dislike me
come to me with phony stuff
and nonsense they spread on so thick,
their hugs I surely will rebuff.

I-love-you hugs from sincere people—
bring ‘em on! Can’t get enough.
I’m-sorry hugs from those who mean them
never leave me in a huff.
I-GET-you hugs of understanding
build me up and bless my soul.
I’ve-missed-you hugs from friends and grandkids
thrill me, heal me, make me whole.


Date Posted: May 31, 2020

received NA in Hugs Poetry Contest judged on June 14, 2020

placed 3rd in John Hamilton's re-run contest June 16, 2020

Snarling Cup of Coffee Lastest Version

I like to start my day with a hot cup of coffee
I pound down the coffee
First thing I do every day
as the dawning sun
Lights up my lonesome room

Yeah, but not just a simple cup of java Joe, but a God damn snarling sarcastic smarmy cup of coffee

I mean, - we are talking about an alcoholic, all speed ahead, always hot, always fresh, always there when I need it, angry, attitude talk to the hand Ztude, bad, bad assed, beats breaking, beatnik, bluesy, bitter, y, bombs away, capitalistic, caffeinated up the ass, cinematic, communistic, Colombian grown, Costa Rican inspired, Cowabunga to the max, crazy assed, devilishly angelic, divine, divinely inspired, dyslexic, epic, extreme vetting, evil eye, expensive, erotic vision inducing, Ethiopian coffee house brewed, euphoric, freaky, freazoid, foxy, Frenched kissed, French brewed, funkified, foxy lady, graphic, GOD in my coffee, with Allah, Ganesh, Jesus, Kali, Buddha, Christians, Durga, Hindus, Mohamed, Jesus and Mo and their friend, the cosmic bar maid, Sai Babai, Shiva, Taoists,

The Ego Has Landed

When BoJo and Donald first met
Donald treated BoJo as his pet
They resembled daft twins
Both with fixed smarmy grins
It’s a moment I will not forget

*BoJo is short for Boris Johnson the new British Prime Minister

8/8/19

The Instigator

I woke up feeling great today,
alive with joy and energy
Then at the park, to my dismay,
an old She-Devil I did see!

She’s back in town. I’ve got the blues!
Again, I’ll see her smarmy smile.
“It’s great to see you, Hon!” she’ll ooze.
Behind her grin lurk gall and guile.

My friends and I must watch our backs,
where daggers she once plunged in deep.
It’s difficult to foil attacks
by evil. Does it ever sleep?

At sabotage, she’s skilled and slick.
No reputation’s safe with her.
This woman’s warped; she really sick.
If you should meet her, you’d concur!


 
entered in John Hamilton's NA Re-run Contest June 22, 2019

revised for Tania Kitchin's contest It Was a Good Morning Until--
February 11, 2021

March 23, 2021
entered in the It Only Seems That Way contest     placed 7th of 10
Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann

December 18, 2021
entered in the King-Size Bull Crap Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Charles Messina

You'Re So Bourgeois

You’re so bourgeois,
it ain’t materialistically funny
You’re so smug, lady LaDeda — 
you’re a maven for making money
Always turning your nose up,
and looking down 
at poor, working class people
Thinking you’re better than most everyone else 
because of what you got
You’re so bourgeois,
I hope that Dom Perigon don’t give you gut rot
You’re so smarmy, lady cougar — 
you believe your own press, that you’re some big shot
But you’re not
You’re just that same bratty little kid,
whose nose was always dripping with snot
Somewhere along the way in life,
you came across a piece of money ... 
now you think you’re so bourgeois
Class is more than a custom car,
honor is more than a huge house
True success is not measured 
by how much is in a bank account
But you still don’t understand,
do you, lady Bourgeois —  
money can only take you so far,
before it drops you 
into a river of cash flow funk
Riches got wings 
that can fly away,
sending you back into poverty
Such an empty feeling,
ain’t it Bourgie lady ...
No green got you turning so gray

Oh the Joy of Old Age

When the young start calling you "deary"
You know that things are going south
And ask  if you want the senior discount
All with that smarmy smirk of the mouth

Shopping becomes a sad affair at best
Cute clothes don't fit a drooping frame
Your wardrobe consists of cover-ups
And the bulges showing really are a shame.

The memory goes, I cant find my keys
Did I take my pills or feed the darn cat?
I'm supposed to buy eggs or was it cheese
Doesn't matter, I'm just a crazy old bat

Getting old is not "golden years" as they say
It's more about hanging on as best you can
And trying to find some small joy in each day
But now really, who thought up this ridiculous plan....

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