LIGHT VERSE AND NONSENSE VERSE IX
Disconcerted
by Michael R. Burch
Meg, my sweet,
fresh as a daisy,
when I’m with you
my heart beats like crazy
& my future gets hazy ...
The Less-Than-Divine Results of My Prayers to be Saved from Televangelists
by Michael R. Burch
I’m old,
no longer bold,
just cold,
and (truth be told),
been bought and sold,
rolled
by the wolves and the lambs in the fold.
Who’s to be told
by this worn-out scold?
The complaint department is always on hold.
Alas, Sir Munchalot!
by Michael R. Burch
You ate too much,
your common lot;
you munched too much,
so now you’ve got
a gut.
Hadrian’s Elegy
by Michael R. Burch
My delicate soul,
now aimlessly fluttering ... drifting ... unwhole,
former consort of my failing corpse ...
Where are we going—from bad to worse?
From jail to a hearse?
Where do we wander now—fraught, pale and frail?
To hell?
To some place devoid of jests, mirth, happiness?
Is the joke on us?
Keywords/Tags: heart, humor, humorous, irony, light, light verse, nonsense, joke, truth, future, soul
Categories:
televangelists, heart, humor, humorous, irony,
Form: Rhyme
Reality sucks, right, that's why you get stoned
Yeah, man, reality bites the big one.
They're bombing and blowing each othe up overseas--
Now they've hit our continent with their insanity
Definitley sucks-take another hit off that bong.
Reality suck, that's why you drink-
Gotta escape reality before you go insane.
Serial killers, rapists, pedophiles (have a quick swig)
Corrupt governments, televangelists, corporataions-
It's a bummer alright-pop the tab on that beer.
Reality sucks, yeah, that's why you smoke crack
You find that sense of peace-reality fades.
Police brutality, child abuse, medical malpractice;
What a drag-push that brillo again.
Reality is-when you're broke and need a toke
Reality is-when you stink cause you puked up your drink
Reality is when you're sacked and out of crack.
Doesn't reality suck
D H Loewen
Categories:
televangelists, addiction, corruption, drink, drug,
Form: Free verse
This funny thing we come to know as life,
Both a blessing & a curse in darkness & in light.
Old men sending youngins to fight.
How hard does the goathead bite?
Is it truly out of mind when done out of sight?
The unseen shadows see what is not meant to be seen.
Carry on & take care
Merry songs are made to share
Do not quiver from the devil's stare;
It is not your burden to bare.
Against the odds, how well do you fare?
The one who quietly sobs...
How dare you try to compare?
Tears have your vision impared.
Emotional wrecks can be repaired.
Rise from the ashes.
The phoenix ablaze
From the matches
Stricken by the masses.
Put on your glasses
& look past
The clash of the classes.
Resilience in the face of impasses
Hold tight as it crashes
& thrashes
Against the fascists
Zionism plagues Jewish
& Palestinian pacifists.
Pay attention to the hacktivists.
Don't listen to televangelists.
Avoid both the blacklist & being a conformist.
Think for yourselves & free your mind.
Only then will you begin to delve
Into what you sought out to find.
Categories:
televangelists, conflict, corruption, deep,
Form: Rhyme
there is no house of God.
but there is a single bedroom apartment of God.
televangelists asleep on the floor
the convent too, dozes -
their manic addresses bring slumber,
wearing pious housecoats
and their belief on their sleeves.
"no girls allowed," said in muttered acclaim
in plumes of verbal smoke, billowing
from loyalty, from unconscious tongues of chimney.
when they rise, rent must be paid.
bi-weekly in assembly,
payments of obedience; collected in baskets
passed from choirboy to choirboy with little question -
here there is no tolerance for question.
no drops of leeway beneath the leaking ceiling.
should other religions come knocking, the door is locked.
inside sneering outwardly,
narrowly, through a peephole
the occupants brimming with superiority.
clutching rosary beads, they sing their own tune
and fear and consider the landLord - He's vengeful.
He promises things, in His twisted sense of humour
and in the single bedroom apartment of God,
the tenants are terrified.
Categories:
televangelists, philosophy,
Form: I do not know?