Snide Poems | Examples

Alien Invasion

Fear of the Outsider, the interloper, the alien
Is as old as humanity itself.
Xenophobia doesn’t just apply to someone foreign 
And “not like us”,
It applies to anyone who may threaten 
Our way of life, the status quo, the norm
And way “it’s always been.”
From local bar to climbing crag, surfing beach, 
Ghetto corner, and Union shop floor,
The locals, sometimes multigenerational deep,
Tend to claim their turf
With the worst of human qualities;
Fear and loathing
Sublimated into snide ostracism, 
Backstabbing gossip and withering looks
If not fully expressed with seething hate 
Slander, bullying and assault.
Meanwhile life goes on for the Xeno
Head down, eyes averted, pathways diverted,
While in their heart
They recognize the love their haters have
For their cherished way of life and ground
Is not exclusive
And no different from their own.

(9/6/25)

Tranquility in Silence

Can you hear the absence of bickering,
the snickering, snide remarks and animosity?

The pomposity of inflated egos in blogs
that just shouldn't be taking place. 

A blog without the chance for someone's
feelings to be trampled and hurt~
Just once~ humor me for creating such a blog.

The Stalker's Still Life Stare

The rose won’t pose, won't stay its will,
It knows it can’t be forced to stay still.
It sneaks movements between brush strokes,
Breaking free of the painter's staring yokes.

The lemon makes faces with bitter pride,
It hides its shyness with a snide slide.
Each subject plays a veiled charade,
As each freeze-frame is displayed.

The painter grabs what time would spill,
To capture one moment with all their skill.
Not knowing their aim can't be fulfilled.
For life is too fluid and free-willed.

Just after each moment is painted.
The scene is already old and outdated.
For nothing posed stays that way for long.
It shifts with each glance, and moves on.

Dinner's A Chore

DINNER’S A CHORE

Dinner, my turn, nothing in the fridge
Off to market, be gone a smidge
Car won’t start, battery’s dead
Jump it, full steam ahead
Old gossips in the aisle, won’t move aside
‘Scuse me’ I croon, but they get snide
Right back I get crass
Suggest they kiss my ass

Peter Periwinkle

“Peter Periwinkle had a car accident,”
my brother said,
as if reading it aloud 
from the back
of a cereal box.
It took me three full seconds
to realize
he meant our father.

We were on my grandma’s farm
where she had recently died,
leaving chickens scratching
unknowingly in the dust.
Our father was elsewhere—
broken, back bent like a paperclip,
drunk at the wheel
when the other car found him.

“Peter Periwinkle had a car accident.”
He'd meant it to be snide.
A small, spiny cartoon creature—
ridiculous, expendable—
the punchline in a story
where no one comes to help.
I didn’t laugh.
I just pictured a blue hedgehog
lying still at the edge
of some forgotten road.

I hear it now
in a different voice—
quieter, without the sneer.
Peter Periwinkle,
still small and lost,
still limping along the shoulder
of some long-forgotten highway.
I don’t excuse my brother
for laughing when he said it,
but he may have seen something
I was too young to name.

Waving

If I wave,
Will you wave back,
Will you cast me aside, 
And toss me a look,
Throw a snide remark,
To make me look like a fool,
Cast us aside, 
And tossed out the key,
Follow inside and take a knee,
Stomped on our lives,
With knives to our hearts,
Tossed us aside,
To keep your lie running,
To show people you don’t care,
About anybody,
Come toss me out,
At only eleven,
Because when you met me,
 Was only seven,
 So I'm trying to wave,
But you have never decided to wave back.

YOU APOLOGISE

Your so called friends draw their knives
and stick their nose into others lives

With snide remarks and a dirty look
putting lies on face book

All anonymous so there is nothing you can do
unable to find out who is spreading lies about you

When you eventually find out and ask them why 
They look in your face and still they will lie

And when they lie and say but I am your friend it was not me
Your the one who ends up giving  them an apology.

The Tariff Wars

There are no bombs, nor guns ablaze
No killing fields or bloody sands
Yet world is driven into craze
From “sweet old home” to distant lands

Mosaic shattered on the wall
To shreds is ripped old gobelin
Oh why, but why we started brawl
The one we cannot ever win?

I want to think there was a cause
A noble path to richer life
Yet what has started with applause
Created very bitter strife

The tariff wars. Why on this watch?
We shall be paying for it all
The great intend is being botched
As wheels come screeching to a stall

Old broken ties, folks out of play
Long harvest comes with little corn
In time all heals, storm goes away
But leaves dismay, fatigue and scorn 

Can’t act as bully among friends
And even less among the foes
“Put in your place” is how it ends
And often with a bloody nose

The shortage’s coming, doubt not
And price, sky-high. Which we OKayed
Big boys be fighting, with us caught
In vicious senseless trade blockade

I want a win for our side
And pot of gold at rainbow’s end
Must walk through anger, pain and snide
While tariff wars are global trend

April 28, 2025

How to Hunt Love

Throw an arrow, remember to sharpen it before it reaches it's end target 
Who is naïve enough to cross your parameters of closeness 
Capture this person whose mere sight you adore 
Aim at their legs, your prey will land face first on the floor 

Don't be scared, Don't you worry
This is how love is meant to be 
Or why would cupid, on his smooth back, so many bad intentions carry?

Or why would the heartbreakers or cheaters not worry about their actions
If they didn't know, love is never a synonym to passion, but pain 
To confusion and spiraling games 

Love was never stable enough to stay after an orgsm 
Love, they repeated over and over
Yet it felt like it had just slipped off their tongue

Bind love in ropes of promises, skim apart their soul
Listen to their heartbeat till the gushing of their bloody lies couldn't be ignored 
You'll know when the prey gets too weakened, it can't move
Just fall apart into broken shreds of a beautiful story 
Piece by piece, Complete the jigsaw pattern
That lasts people eternity, then you can congratulate yourself

You've caught your prey

FOOTLE the background bio

in 2009 whilst word-playing around
the trochaic monometer I then found
two lines short& sweet
terse enough to tweet
an integral title is also vital
for this recitative recital
christened it 'footle' as a memorable name
Sadly- it is my only claim to fame

FOR THE RECORD
FIRST FOOTLE Jan 2009 (Plural footles never really appealed- I prefer my original creation)

Bonnie & Clyde

too snide

both died

i try not to generalize rich people

the woman’s opulence did not mean she would be haughty and uptight
some wealthy people are not rude, selfish and snotty

I decided to give the woman a fair chance
She talked down to me as if I was a worm crawling out of an alley
That must have been an accident

I gave her another chance
She made a snide remark about my background
Which she does not know

Her disdainful smile would have been impossible to miss
Even if I could have ignored her supercilious attitude
and her rude words

“was she kind?” my grandmother asked me.
“You will have to find out for yourself,” I told her.

Within minutes of their conversation I saw my grandmother pop her eyes.
We left right away, for we had come up with the same conclusion
This snob was not worth our time.

The Latest Soup Scoop

Stop pulling your mischievous high jinks - currently, the wind of change stinks

Winds of change are not always good - they can be grossly misunderstood

Winds of change are just blowing smoke - spouted by a deluded bloke

Don’t believe a word from Blog bullies and blowhards - they won't change their ways

PS encourages creativity – poets CAN post ten per day

I got fed up of snide little digs about people who write poop poems

I am not stuck for turds - I'm saving my witty words for my next book

The Dance of Jealousy

Written: June 03, 2024, For  Miranda Hawley

          ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The breeze rippling through your locks breaks my heart
Missing them, I clasp my hands at my side
I saw streams streak off your neck and apart
I should sustain your side and grant my snide
You catch my eye and dance as we used to
I know you'll dance lost at a spiteful dance
You twirl while on fire; no one can spot you
You dance to relieve pain; your soul askance

My chest niggles from your intense envy
I wish to hear your rage and ease my pain
To deem you as plague, this soul might levy
I can't hold this within; tears are a strain
          
          What I hear is triggering mental fears
          My heart hates distrust as you dance with tears

Critterature: Critiquing William Blake

"Tyger, tyger burning bright
In the forests of the night…"
Archaic spelling set aside,
And not intending to be snide,
But really, Mr. Blake, I take exception.
While a tiger's luminosity
May pique your curiosity,
What the beastie's wattage is, you've no conception.
But who am I to judge you?
And so I'll not begrudge you
This "poesy" that was your lifelong passion.
But could it be that you were smokin'
A little "weed" the night you spoke in
That weird and kinda highfalutin' fashion?
Oh, we'll debate it, if you want to,
But it will come back to haunt you,
And the tiger, in the end, will defeat ya.
'cause metaphysical or not,
If a tiger's light is hot,
That's a sign he's getting ready, pal,
To eat ya!

Tangled Threads of Dread

Written: June 17, 2023
 
In a world where shades ooze and swirl.
Wherever fear spreads its nasty curl,
Dread covers the world in an icy grasp.
And bleak stories that often unclasp. 

As moonlight weaves a haunting tune,
Tangled threads of a dread commune
Nighttime whispers that are not heard
Fears reverberated, and people fled nerds.

Everywhere you look, every crevice
Dread lurks for the right time to menace.
Those with courage in their hearts
The bitter aftertaste of despair starts.
 
In the realm of dreams and hope,
Where success and glory elope,
There lies a tale of a soul's quest,
In the face of failure's snide zest.
 
With every stride, a challenge is set.
The spirit soared, never to forget,
But failure loomed with its snide sneer.
Whispering doubts, filling hearts with fear.

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