“It wasn’t me who voted them in.” He bleated, quite moronic.
“And all the lies we’re being told, I think I need a colonic.”
He looked around and gathered his thoughts, “I need to pen a missive,
To my local member, here in town, and it needs to be derisive.”
His needs lined up and in a row he smoothed the sheet for writing.
Nib to page, ink to flow, the Minister’s in for a smiting.
And as the words began to roll with sweet and honeyed menace,
The smile in his eyes began to show, he started, “My name’s Dennis.”
He listed off the promises made with a corresponding date
And coupled them with grievances to even out the slate.
He moaned and groaned and spouted steam. He really was quite grumpy.
And when he read it back again, he found his syntax lumpy.
Scrunch it up and start again, it surely must be proper.
With guilt to place and thoughts to sway, he breached a mental stopper.
And now, when Dennis wrote some more his thoughts and words were crystal.
Seven pages, neatly scrawled. What a delightful epistle.
Social Media influencers on the racist right
said us Jews control radio and TV
That we rot the roots of morality’s tree,
The implication is clear; there’s no society free.
One TV personality invited a guy
who spouted reasons for Hitler's views
As the real deal, I wonder why
So much dumping on the Jews
They talk of the 'noticing' - a kind of right wing 'woke'
where folks wake up to Jewish control
They take advantage of a center that's broke
Old ideas corrupt a bewildered soul.
Some shout that we’re pushing everything gay,
Yet many gays march against Israel today.
On campuses now, free speech has its price—
Debate is forbidden; it just isn't nice.
Even China got into that social media bed
plus it helps Iran, the Houthis, lots more could be said
In Brooklyn, some blacks punch Jews in the head
In America, some Jewish blood spilt and ran red
Yes, it’s true we have fools, that cross red lines,
Who chase after causes that darken our times.
But most of us build, most of us mend—
Confuse friend and foe, and you hasten the end.
Bad ideas never die
Let's stand firm against the lie.
the gargoyle spouted restless streams until
icicles silenced the steady façade’s faucet
into perma-frosted solitude in meditation
Mrs. McFee should have been named Mrs. McGloom.
Her conversations are like a nasty weird sonic boom.
She likes to spread horrific terrible, worst news.
Horror stories spouted with glee as soon as they brew.
Mrs. McFee has pancreatic cancer going to her brain.
She grins like a Cheshire cat as she gives this refrain.
Marty’s cousin died of Covid-19 last fall.
My mother-in-law has the worst diagnosis of all.
Tally’s neighbor was in a fetal position for two years.
That I will be her next story is one of my awful fears.
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
In tertiary times, when two continents adrift
Titanically collided to tectonically uplift
The gasping ocean floor
Resurrected up once more
Left the water for the land;
Five miles high it made its stand.
And to these youthful mountains (that is as mountains go)
The monsoon clouds paid homage as they gathered far below
They strongly spouted fury and made the foothills wet
But the scornful Himalayas dried the plateau of Tibet
And then the disbelievers from the atheistic West
Where time is not a circle and there is no Ever-rest
Defiled up the silent crags
At the peak they planted flags
You, Himalaya, tried to hide those flags with snow
But...
We know.
It’s Howdy Doody Time!
It’s Howdy Doody Time!
If you know this rhyme so nifty,
Your childhood was probably in a fifty.
Remember the advertisers promoting color TV?
This was when we all had black and white, you and me.
Howdy had forty-eight freckles representing each state of the USA.
Watching him on the tube was what most of us did every day.
Remember Buffalo Bob, Howdy’s Sidekick?
He amused all of us children, he was honest, not slick.
We bought Wonder bread, because they spouted that it was good muster.
Most of us wanted the ballots they printed, to vote for Phineas T. Bluster.
Chief Thunderthud and Chief Featherman kept us honest, us kids.
J. Cornelius Cobb, the shopkeeper kept clowns on the skids.
If you remember anything, this one chant should be incredibly clear.
Let's give a rousing cheer, because Howdy Doody is here!
No prisoner of faith was he
No member of religious ties
No hypocrite for all to see
No purveyor of ancient lies
No prayers spouted forth day by day
No sheep to be branded a fool
No collector of tithes to pay
No credo but the golden rule
Little miss came out to kiss the moon
Her lips were puckered, and not too soon
She’s a show off said the sandman goon.
I never liked her spouted a red raccoon.
She is okay, said a creepster named McVoon.
He is not well-known in the meadow of the moon.
Matter of fact, I think he moved into town at half past noon.
Lots of talk about the kissing of the crescent moon.
You do not understand her mother often said
Her father understood her but he was not home much
Her mother called her names; not nice ones.
She shrunk a little every time her mother spoke.
Expecting to be put down, cringing when she saw her mother.
She stayed in her room
Decorated in snowflakes,
There was a reverence about it
It was a sanctuary where she felt safe
She stayed here more and more often
Learning that her own company was the best
Her mother spouted religion at her in an angry way
Tried to drag her to church, where she was a bigshot.
The girl ignored her mother’s efforts,
Waited for her father to return home
But he never did
An exceptional young man from the Old Dominion
Was in love with his most overrated opinion
He spouted the verse and chapter
But collapsed shortly thereafter
Because he met up with a savvy West Virginian.
written August 11, 2021
The venom spouted
Animal in human form
Healed by compassion
23-September-2020
He was a foul mouthed fellow from Falmouth
Who spouted and spewed some sewage - like slime
'Til he met a maiden who made a new man
And taught this rodent ridden rummy to rhyme
He piddled and puddled and peeled off a poem
Then sniffled and snuffled and sensed out a sonnet
He metered and teetered and tested a Tanka -
The maiden smiled and tipped him her bonnet
Soon the Queen quoted quips from his efforts
Said his musings were meant for the mellow
He grinned and penned a fabulous Footle
He was no more just a foul mouthed fellow
1-11-20
Contest: Twist My Tongue
Sponsor: Nina Parmenter
Black balloons on the gate,
The sky so dark and cloudy.
Dad hadn’t wanted us out late,
But we begged quite loudly.
“Trick or treat,” we spouted,
The words just an expression,
We had never doubted,
It wasn’t a real question.
A door with cobweb festoons,
The man and woman are scary;
They wear skeletal costumes,
And scruffy white wigs so hairy.
“Trick or treat,” we spouted,
The words an easy expression,
We had never doubted,
It wasn’t a real question.
“Trick!” the answer is a shock.
They chase to the cemetery,
We try hide 'hind some rock;
Crouching low and all wary.
“Trick or treat,” we spouted,
The words were an expression,
We had never doubted,
It wasn’t a real question.
Thunder cracks behind our backs,
Neighbourhood dogs go howl.
“I wanna home,” my sister hacks.
“Shush now,” I gruffly scowl.
“Trick or treat,” we spouted,
The words only an expression,
We had never doubted,
It wasn’t a real question.
“Hey,” Dad was tall and adult,
Shining torch beam like a sword,
Chasing away creatures occult,
Making our fears shadows ignored.
Wurtis B was a bardolater.
Shakespeare fan, there was no one greater.
He spouted the Bard.
Photo on his card.
Hamlet magnet on refrigerator.
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