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Robert Ippaso Sep 20
Mumbling, rambling, wizened and old
This sorry old man leaves me angry and cold.
How such a fool made it this far
Must be the luck of some weird Irish star.

Now I'm expected to play fair and smile,
But against this buffoon that really does rile
Each bone in my body from morning to night,
With his cocky demeanor and memory plight.

Protected and pampered by the media and stars,
He speaks from his basement and meets from parked cars,
Trading favors for votes, a pattern he's shown
And to pressure he’ll cave, for this he is known.

No wonder the Marxists all love him so much,
What better for President, one so out of touch,
The country in ruins but what will he care,
When all he can do is the 90 yards stare.

But all said and done I relish the chance
To prove once again how well I can dance;
And in the great words of my hero Ali,
I'll float like a butterfly and sting like a bee.
Norman Crane Aug 25
Two posts emerged on my Facebook,
And sorry I could not peruse both
And be one user, long I stood
And scrolled down one as far as I could
To where it went into a long blockquote;

Then read the other, as just as shared,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was classy and about footwear;
Though as for that the likes there
Had rated them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
I believe with no comments written back.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever tap back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two posts emerged on my Facebook, and I—
I read the one less thumbed-up by,
And that has made all the difference.
Defeated , deflated,
despondent, degraded,
All fun out the door,
Am I mad to want more?

Hyenas all circling,
Baying and burbling,
They hunt for a thrill
The chase and the ****.

Bombarded, lambasted,
Prodded and tested,
My world pandemonium,
Surrounded by odium.

I've worked and I've tried
For greatness I've strived,
So little compassion
Today's angry fashion.

All I now say,
All I now do,
Battered and burned,
No sympathy earned.

Yet on I go,
I toil and I sow,
For a better tomorrow
Masking my sorrow.

But let the chips fall,
I'll weather this squall,
I'm great at this game
Who then will they blame?
Virus Covidius, it is quite insidius
Much worse than Ty-phoid Mary
They say it arrived from China
But, I'm thinking North Regina
Virus Covidius, it's gonna get rid of us
It's so contagious they cancelled baseball
It's affecting the world from Brazil to Nepal
You can't go to church, but, your'e safe at the mall
This virus called covidius
da da da, da da da, da da da, da da da,

You can go buy, at the shops, if you try
If you're ready to get in line
Toilet paper is out, there is none about
But, you can still get wine
Oh virus covidius
If you shop for toilet tissue
You'll find none, and that's an issue
Oh virus covidius, it's quite insidius
It's much worse than the Spanish Flu
They say isolation, stay home alone
Watch your tv, play games on the phone
Just rearranging the things that you own
You can thank the **** covidius
Da Da Da, Da Da, Da,Da, Da Da, Da, Da Da
Always wear a mask and please keep your distance
Simple, but met with resistance
They are all saying don't touch your face
Stay six feet apart and give me my space
Da da da, da, da, da, da, da, da, da, da, da
If a second wave comes and hits us much harder
I'll have lots of food stored here in my larder
But then there is still the issue
Of Where do I find toilet tissue?
Da da, da, da, da, da, da, da, da, da, da, da
Oh virus covidius, it is quite insidius
It's changed the way that we live
They've cancelled all of the games that we play
From down in Montana, to old Mandalay
With out a vaccine, we just live for today
You can blame covidius
da da da, da, da, da, da, da, da, da, da, da
I said covidius, yes covidius
I said covidius yes covidius
Da da.
Robert Ippaso May 20
Can't stand the man
Despise his sight
I hate him so
With all my might.

In all my years
Can't recall a time
I had to deal
With such vile slime.

A puffed up despot
A vain buffoon
His very sight
Spells doom and gloom.

My only solace
My one salvation
Ice cream for dinner
Enough to face the nation.

The sugar rush
That silken taste
Tempers my moods
If not my waist.

What do I care
Why should I cease
When I’ve revealed
Trump is morbidly obese.

I told the world
Made it quite clear
His health in mind
And not a smear.

The truth quite harsh
Sometimes it hurts
He needs cut down
McDonalds and desserts.

But not long now
Elections close
Watching with glee
Trump thrashing in death throws.

Joe's on the cusp
If only he knew
But with creeping dementia
He hasn't a clue.

So my plan's now enacted
All scheming and guile
To get rid of both
And rule with a smile.

I've earned it for sure
Endured with such class
Folks never guessed
I was such pure bad-***.
Elizabeth May 16
Dust to dust,
the wheel does stop, oh
the wheel does stop!
—eyes rattling the sky.

Trotting along the outlines,
a duel of stirring clouds,
falsifying sheaves of nostalgia,
rebuking its dreary demeanor.

A comedy of the flesh
procured us to falter.

Dust to dust,
growling in between frolics,
inflicting a strange quiver,
death, ruthless as any lover!.

Love me when I awake,
I pledge to duplicate,
sprawling about unclothed,
ceasing our funereal prose.

A ceremony of the flesh,
procured us to transfigure.

Dust to dust,
the wheel does stop, oh
the wheel does stop!,
—your eyes rattling my sky.

Irritating the stars,
incinerating Sirius,
remorseless to its demise,
heart’s hitherto delirious.

Setting the flesh aflame,
procured an eternal inferno.

Dust to dust,
lying under your eyes,
heed to my hearts desire,
love me when you awake, my fire. . .
Remi May 16
Out of the day that smothers me,
    Thick as a wall from brick to brick,
I curse whatever person may be
    For creating a math textbook this thick.

In the fell clutch of math circumstance
    I have both winced and cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
    My brain has gone ******, and has bowed.

Beyond this place of pain and tears
    Looms but the freedom of the shade,
And yet the menace of the math entering my ears
    Finds and shall find me afraid.

It matters not the angle of the gate,
    How charged with questions the scroll,
I am not the master of my fate,
    Math is the captain of my soul.
A parody of William Ernest Henley's INVICTUS.
I just had to turn this inspirational poem into a representation of the lives students around the world, working on math textbooks as thick as brick walls and getting bludgeoned by questions about chance XD
Remi May 15
Curry rice curry rice, burning bright,
In the microwave at the middle of the night;
What immortal bud or tongue,
Could frame thy fearful spice that stung?

In what distant flavor that sprung.
Burnt the fire in thy tongue?
On what buds dare it aspire?
Why my tongue, dare cease the fire?
Just another of my "famous poetry" parodies (parody of "The Tyger" written by William Blake)
Hope it puts a smile on your face :D
Randy Johnson May 14
When my friend and I finally got chicks, they decided to leave us.
My friend's name is ****-Head and my name is Beavis.
I thought that I was pregnant even though I'm a boy.
Because ****-head and I are stupid, people get annoyed.

I become the Great Cornholio when I eat too much sugar.
I'm actually a mental case who eats his own boogers.
When ****-Head and I meet chicks, we're sure to sexually harass.
And if you have a teenage daughter, you'll end up kicking my ***.

If you meet us face to face, we're sure to cause great anxiety.
We are both juvenile delinquents who are threats to society.
Don't come near us or you'll get so mad that you'll cuss.
You will be happy and better off if you stay away from us.
INSPIRED BY THE HIT CARTOON THAT WAS CREATED BY MIKE JUDGE.
Robert Ippaso May 10
What did I do, what Karma is this
Where is the power, the glory, the bliss,
I didn't sign up for this constant pain,
I'm losing my mojo, going insane.

I gave up a bunch, my whole pampered life,
The glittering lights, a model for wife,
A media in love, fans all around,
Success beyond words to truly astound.

The Don was the man, the king of the heap,
The world's superstars in my presence would steep,
Invites and connections too many to count,
Politicians included my patronage tantamount.

My wealth and prestige more radiant than gold,
Everyone buying whatever I sold,
From Casinos to Pageants, Hotels by the score,
Anything Trump they just wanted more.

And now what is this my world full of grind,
My presence and words despised and maligned,
Melania so mad I tiptoe at night,
To then sleep alone, a truly sad sight.

But what my recourse, I've little to say
What I would do, what would I pay
To rewind the clock, swallow my pride,
Stick to my golf and from politics hide.

Too late for all that, I'm in to my neck
Just hoping and praying to avert a train wreck,
History's blunt it favors the winners,
No pity or quarter for ambitious beginners.

So here's the game plan, my only real shot
To well clear my name and wipe out this blot,
Another four years that's what I so need
For me to yet prove that I truly can lead.

And lead I sure will despite that grim bunch,
I'll use my fine guile peppered with hunch
To ram home the point beyond any doubt,
That I am the one with God-given clout.
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