Badmouthing poems on Hello Poetry

Nicholas James Berlincourt Jan 2012

People say that

i’m fun

& i’m kind.

The kind of spirit they enjoy

I hear all the talks

friend vs friend

in different

housing

-they can’t

hear what each is saying

yet,

even after the badmouthing

the namedropping

the telephone calls still come in

clear as day

for them

but, people

say

that i’m fun

& i’m the kind of person

you can count on

when the sink stops working

or the cable goes

out.

but you don’t hear my phone

ringing.

matthew scott harris Jun 2018

Mean Mien Donald Trump

Former CIA Director
John Brennan scathing headlines
Washington Post op-ed sharply
published critical accusations

muted excoriation slams
Commander in Chief
volcanic blatant pathological lying
spews like lava his American

foreign policy boilerplate brazenly
bastardizes by banditry blueprint,
balefully balkanizing beautiful bracketed
booming brady bunch brand,

bests best-buy buffer braking balanced
bastion, bolstered beloved benighted
bequeathed bicameral bipartisan bliss,
Baptizing bacchanalian buffoonish bombast,

betokening bobble-headed Bumstead,
barmy bartered bride bravado, bizarrely
brash brassiness, blindsiding behavior,
beetlebrowed bonehead, bafflingly baldfaced,

bankrupting, blithely bollixing,
bombastically belittling, badmouthing,
banally blasting, banana-boat baseless,
bearish blandishments, beastly boastful

boosterism, bellicosely boorish, bug-eyed,
bighearted, bigoted blathering breeding
blunderbuss bloopers, bewildering
bloodletting bellyache blight,

brazenly being bandying bellwether,
blitzing bourgeoisie balderdash,
balking but beaming barbaric
berserk ballyhoo backbiting,

backslapping backstabbing
blacklisting bromides,
besetting basic bestowed blooming,
Bobbitizing bedeviling beneficial
bulwark bereft badinage, ballistically ballooning
betrayal birthing bedlam.

#action #beckons #eviction

Bob B Sep 2021

Tammy Faye: Televangelist Queen

(This poem can be sung to the melody of "Tammy" by Jay Livingston and Raymond B. Evans.)

You topped TV's televangelist scene.
Tammy Faye, Tammy Faye, you were the queen.
When hubby Jim Bakker was forced to come clean,
Tammy Faye, Tammy Faye, you were still queen.
Will we ever know
What it was
That made you tick?
And people still wonder why
Your make-up was so thick.
We can still picture your face with its sheen.
Tammy Faye, Tammy Faye, you were the queen.

When other preachers were badmouthing gays,
Tammy Faye, you had new pathways to blaze.
You offered them love in so many kind ways,
Even though there was much money to raise.
When the world was cruel,
So very cruel,
To people with AIDS,
Compassion for them became
One of your crusades.
Although people blasted your actions and mien,
Nonetheless, Tammy Faye, you were the queen.

-by Bob B (9-21-21)

Cycle Wakka Apr 11

In The Cracks Of Night

Hey, will you ever come someday?
Beyond the door where no one stands,
I want to fly away with
that fallen leaf hanging from the corner of the wall.
Your scent sways in the wind—
the gentle smell of summer in Tokyo.
I just wanted you to say, 'Wait for me a little.'
But maybe you'd say, 'You know how I feel, don't you? '

In the cracks of night,
the dream I whispered
doesn't have to reach anyone.
An invisible kindness
gently falls and wraps us softly.

Hey, will I forget someday?
This pain in my heart when I think of you.
Even if time quietly unravels,
something red overflows from the wounds I hurt.
They say that color is gold,
but no—it's a silvery hue tinged with yellow.
I remember the little things we talked about,
even the silent conversations in the time we didn't speak.

In the cracks of night,
a sudden little sneeze
feels like you're badmouthing me.
I've become your allergy.
These untouchable feelings
wander through the air,
and somehow return to me again.

You're surely in the arms of some monster now.
Just the thought of it makes my head feel like it's splitting.
But it's okay.
It's okay.
Because I can love you just as you are.

In the cracks of night,
the dream I whispered
doesn't have to reach anyone.
An invisible kindness
gently falls,
and softly wraps us again.

missing

#missinglove #poem

— The End —