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I romanticize humanity until what's left isn't even human.

I cook up fallacies about legal aliens and add a dash of cumin.

Your chef tosses salads in the pasta section of the grocery store.

Devil's just as confused, with a ***** and an apology at heaven's door.

You don't know, and no one cares where eggs go when they die.

Godzilla thinks of a car full of clowns like you would a sardine pie.

What happens when an elephant gets alzheimer's and loses keys?

Does the paradox consume an entire circus of trapeze-act-fleas?

I ruin birthday cakes by blowing off the frosting instead of the flames.

How I do that? Count backwards from backwards and say my names.

Bittersweet love anthems pollute the brains of conscientious dames.

Heavy metal doesn't pollute, it pacifies rage quitting from soul-******* games.

Out of the woodwork comes a limp ***** that would work,

Long hours only to find he'd pay millions for a Miley Cyrus twerk,

Which is worth about as much as an all-female circle ****,

Unless you add strap-ons, so strap in and lap up the knee-****-smirk.

It is unwise to handle scissors when one is being cutting-edge,

Because your accountants will dangle themselves off of a three-storey ledge,

When you cut up the ledgers and make light of, that is, burn, the evidence of pledge,

To the monkeys in your think-tank mailing feces to the upstart farmer's hedge.

Now I know you're sick of rhyming and of poems and of liver culling whisky,

But I must inform you of a pirate's missing eye, I've bought sight of something risky,

I implore that when this song and dance is done, you'll assuredly miss me,

Because I've told you everything about depravity, hence forth you must kiss me.

Beacons of hope shine much like cantankerous silver in the moonlight.

If you're a werewolf that will fill you with hope and with immeasurable fright.

One day the world will admit that I'm awesome and impoverished to boot,

Because when the song and dance is done, what's left is just an ounce of loot.
Another poem from my vault that I forgot about.
I wrote this poem today, July 20th, of 2015.
Reading this, I was astounded by the wordplay I employed.
There are certain things I've forgotten how to do poetically.

My poems now are more thoughtful, story-oriented, and laced with meaning.
This poem up here is pure play - wordplay, poeticism, rhyme, contrast, shock, mayhem, chaos. When I wrote poems like this, unknowingly, I did my best to dance around meaning. I played with it. Gave my readers just a taste of meaning as I, with comedy, made a spectacle of words.

I loved playing with words to full effect at the time. I was going through a lot of psychic pain. My illness was rampant. Writing helped ease the pain immensely and gave me joy.

I hope this little poem made you laugh as it did me :)


David Plantinga Dec 2021
The Wit is nimble, and can skip
The longest distances with ease.  
It flits on an extended trip,
One day, and back from overseas.  
The Wisdom hasn’t cleared the dock, 
A wide, and long, and sluggish ship,
Her cargo a tremendous stock,
And filled as if by faucet drip.  
But such a huge displacement packs,
What takes a flimsy, skimming skiff
More than a hundred there’s and back’s,
A bounty to save Tenerife.
Odd Odyssey Poet Jun 2021
Act as if I could sell dreams
to an insomniac,
Or selling broken pieces to
a crack.
Cracking skulls to think
well ahead.
Arranging my plans in serial,
on the few crumbs of bread.

Why I ask the Lord for my daily bread,
to fill all my ideas. Keep them fed.

Seem to be a puzzle piece,
trying to find my fit
As I play such games,
finding humour from my wit.
Dressed for life, suit and tie
hoping it all could fit.
But life at times feels so much
like a job, but I can't even quit.

I'm over my head at times,
wanting to be an upright citizen.
Beating on myself,
maybe because I didn't get enough discipline.

Days I'm trying to train my mind,
most days I lost track.
Picture out my life plans,
still feels like there's a drawback.

Pressing the On and Off switch
of my mind. Don't know what's current.
Haven't paid the dues of my life,
nowadays I have a warrant.

Relevance goings irrelevant,
if you're not relevant to yourself.
Relatively speaking, I don't know how
to end this piece. So here's the end. Oh well!

But no,

Why must the end of a cause
not have you all standing in your applause?
Lord only knows,
why we're quick to pick out the flaws.

The pain of hanging over your jaws,
while I'm handing you a gift of my words.
Like the non-existent Santa Claus.

Spitting words to your face,
facts of my case.
Who runs the passion of his soul,
for you to chase.


This is far too long,
to the point I don't know where these words are coming from.
This rant is far too withstanding,
way too strong.

So to you all, I'm now gone.
I'm guessing this was a rant of mine.
HTR Stevens Apr 2021
The very big and the very small
Get together at a ball.
Invite guests of similar size
Not a room full of elephants and mice!
aesthenne Nov 2020
she watches over
those who
plan carefully
and strategically
for the battle
that they
are about to
face within
and about.

overseer of
those pursuing
wit, and wisdom
scattered among
books or
in your everyday

a goddess of
thorough thinking who
has always been
enabling victory
now influences the worthy
Dedicated to my goddess, Pallas Athena, goddess of wisdom and war. ♡
HTR Stevens Jul 2020
Peeping out from my rabbit hole,
I cannot see a single soul.
The virus is floating about,
But is it okay to go out?
The economy is going down the drain...
Some say that to ‘stay in’ will be double pain.
Play Russian Roulette: just roll the dice...
If you know not what to do is wise!
Tryniti Jun 2020
Abandoned under the guise of self-sacrifice
How many times have you told these lies

A wonder to behold in your own right
Latching on, holding tight
I was lost the moment I got in your sights

A silver tongue with unmatched wit
Even the most dominant would submit
To your linguistic lashings

Skilled in verbal maneuvers and molding minds
You reveled in being one of a kind

Sly, and slick, smooth and quick
Your trick was finding what made me tick

You made me yours, then slipped away
I was your toy, begging to play

But then you were done; tired I suppose
You disappeared, to where..god only knows

You played the martyr, a victim, a pawn
Suddenly all of your power was gone

I know better, but I still feel incomplete
The flavor of erasure is so bittersweet
HTR Stevens May 2020
One rule for you, another for me
That is how it is going to be.
Born to rule,
Know who's who,
Born to rule, and not to obey -
Breaking my own rules is okay.
Austerity in any shape or form,
For common folks should be the perfect norm.
I do not need to mind my 'p's and 'q's;
I need a laugh while collecting my dues.
I am above, you are below;
Stop moaning, your position know.
Rules are for the likes of you, not me;
At least you live in a 'free' country.
I can get away with ******, you can't get away with theft;
The law will take from you your last scrap, when you have nothing left.
If you are poor, you'll be poorer still
When fat cats move in for the ****.
Love of money makes the world go round -
Work and no play when I wear the crown.
Michael R Burch Apr 2020
Martial Epigrams

You ask me why I've sent you no new verses?
There might be reverses.
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You ask me to recite my poems to you?
I know how you'll "recite" them, if I do.
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You ask me why I choose to live elsewhere?
You're not there.
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You ask me why I love fresh country air?
You're not befouling it there.
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You never wrote a poem,
yet criticize mine?
Stop abusing me or write something fine
of your own!
—Martial, loose translation by Michael R. Burch

He starts everything but finishes nothing;
thus I suspect there's no end to his *******.
—Martial, loose translation by Michael R. Burch

You alone own prime land, dandy!
Gold, money, the finest porcelain—you alone!
The best wines of the most famous vintages—you alone!
Discrimination and wit—you alone!
You have it all—who can deny that you alone are set for life?
But everyone has had your wife—
she is never alone!
—Martial, loose translation by Michael R. Burch

You dine in great magnificence
while offering guests a pittance.
Sextus, did you invite
friends to dinner tonight
to impress us with your enormous appetite?
—Martial, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Coq au vin
by Martial, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Hosts always invite you to dinner, Phoebe,
but are you merely an éclair to the greedy?

Hosts always invite you to dinner, Phoebe,
but are you **** Amaro to the greedy?

Amaro is an after-dinner liqueur thought to aid the digestion after a large meal.

Hosts always invite you to dinner, Phoebe,
but are you an aperitif to the greedy?

Hosts always invite you to dinner, Phoebe,
but they’re pimps to the seedy.

Ad cenam invitant omnes te, Phoebe, cinaedi.
mentula quem pascit, non, ****, purus **** est.

Keywords/Tags: Martial, translation, Latin, epigram, verse, recite, wit, discrimination, country, air, dandy, wine, wife, dinner, appetite
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