"beserk" poems
You need a smart Jag,
Not my Fiat.
(That was always the snag -
Now I see it.)
When we dine at The Ritz
I chew jerky.
You're all glamour and glitz -
While I'm quirky.
It ain't gonna work,
There's no maybe.
'Cause we'll both go beserk.
- Shall we, Baby?
© Marcus Lane 2010
Feb 2, 2010
Feb 2, 2010 at 11:21 AM UTC
She arrives in high stilletto’s
And a miniskirt so taught
That the boys are all distracted
And our job becomes a rort,
And the office girls get ******
And production spirals down
So then our new Middle Manager
Rolls up her sleeves and goes to town....
She sticks her oar in frequently
And stands with jutted hip,
She’s territorial dynamite
And serves us gloating lip.
She often curries favour
With Department Heads and such
And makes a fuss at our expense
Which irritates so much!
She has a way to circumvent
The types she will not face,
In using her authority
To snidely put them in their place.
Her manner is too sharp
And too dismissive for my taste
And the condescending smile
Has me grinding teeth to paste.
And the way she stands and taps her toe
And glares beneath her brows
Has the office juniors panicking
And avoiding, as allows.
There’s an issue over paper
And the telephone account
And the petty cash, though balanced,
Is a questionable amount.
Historically our working week
Has employed a give and take
With an easy flexibility
That allows us all a break,
But the new Middle Manager
Has reversed the mode of work
So that everyone competes
And the roster’s gone beserk!
Her manner’s often strident
With a whiplash to her voice
And the snarl of her vindictiveness
Leaves us all with little choice
But to bend our backs to labour,
Work our fingers to the bone
And suffer her till knock off
Then, thank God, we’re fleeing home!
There’s a memo in the “In box”
Rumour has it, from on high,
That due to overdue restructuring,
That some redundancies are nigh.
And though there’s great reluctance
And some measure of regret...
It seems our new Middle Manager
Has got her notice...Sorry Pet!
Marshalg
Victoria Park Tunnel
15 January 2011
Jan 14, 2011
Jan 14, 2011 at 4:38 PM UTC
If the eyes are the window to the soul.
Yours is powerful & captivating.
In your eyes it's like an Egyptian sunset.
Not knowing you I regret.
A unique soul of purity & gold.
Lyrics sung & told.
Your body died before it got old.
Millions of albums you produced & sold.
Music you left thee earth.
Perfected and rehearsed.
An unpublished memoir.
Transcended & soared.
Wish you had stayed to give us more.
"A slave to money then you die".
The sudden end of your life made me cry.
I wish alive in the flesh you had stayed.
Too early sent to your grave.
The way to independence you paved.
I think of you all day.
And dream of you every night.
An end too soon was not right.
Rest in peace.
Your spirit was released.
I hope your soul is alright.
Descended from flight.
A private person but a public figure.
Generous never a gold digger.
Your voice & music was a gift to all.
You stood 5 feet two inches tall.
Your angelic face & in your high heels.
Your performance made us feel.
Happy or sad.
Too bad you couldn't have been my daughter's dad.
You would have been the best husband or father.
I was too naive to be bothered.
Heartbreaking.
Painstaking.
Forsaking.
Unchanging.
What's remaining.
Take care.
I wish I had been there.
You had gorgeous hair.
Soft hands.
A talented band.
Thank you for the entertainment.
It had been a pleasure arrangement.
I have never been to a concert.
Large fanatic crowds going beserk.
Not my scene.
Sorry if I was mean.
I didn't mean some things I said.
An apology I could've wrote for you to have read.
I wish I could've married you to share your bed.
You are truly one of a kind.
Too bad time can't rewind.
Our spirits each other will hope to find.
Your life was thee most precious.
To bring you back the most is what I wish.
May 26, 2016
May 26, 2016 at 1:09 AM UTC
Transferred attention some where else
Then lost my train of thought,
Added an item to my list
Of stuff I should have bought.
Forgot to say those silly things
That make it all worth while,
And found myself in jockey shorts
With a lost and vacant smile.
Left the toothbrush in the toilet
And the razor in the lounge,
Fed the dog the ****** cat food
And the goldfish had to scrounge.
Woke up early on the weekend
And slept in late for work,
Is it really any wonder
That my wife has gone beserk ?
Distracted moments come and go
As life progresses on,
But in these periods of bewilderment
Have I come or have I gone ?
The confusion is annoying
It's like emerging from the mist
And embarrassed explanations
Leave my kid's expression ******
Conversations breeze along
I'm having trouble with the terms
The children utter gibberish
Which I've no desire to learn.
My old friends speak in whispers
Quite impossible to hear
And the clink of moving cutlery
Keeps dinner parties from my ear.
I guess a change is needed
Maybe, a less demanding day,
Where physicality is really secondary
Where exhaustion doesn't play.
Where the bodies limitations
Are tempered to the task
And a moderated output
Is, perhaps, the best that you can ask.
I've lost my sense of humour
The world is racing by too fast,
This mobile phone's a nightmare
And ****** TV remotes I'm past.
And whatever happened to coffee
At my favourite Bridge cafe ?
Now the order is for decaff,
No cream, half strength, moccha frappe !!
Age is such a ******
It's asset is it's stealth,
One moment you're a titan
The next you've lost your health.
One moment you've got flowing locks
The next you're bald and grim,
Is it any ****** wonder
That growing old is such a sin.
Marshalg
Grumping@theBach
Mangere Bridge
10 August 2009
Feb 1, 2010
Feb 1, 2010 at 5:56 PM UTC
She lied and kept dark secrets,
But she read me like a book,
She kept her thoughts to herself,
While I poured mine, like a cup to the brim,
A moment I told her my deepest secret,
A one she swore she never tell,
A devil in a angels costume,
I swear she should go to hell,
Away I spilled the beans,
Telling her first my favorite chocolate, to the guy I liked,
And then it went downhill,
Not a soul was told apart from her,
And then rumors spread,
I could have cut her with a knife that day,
Indeed I was planning to,
But then a warm hand was over mine,
Gentle but firm,
He pulled me to the side and said he liked me too,
And everything was happy,
But for a moment only,
Then he said her name, to me, in my face,
And when he confessed that he loved me for my courage,
My bravery for betraying my friend,
I went beserk,
He stepped back, and much to my surprise I stepped forward,
And told him my name,
His face flushed and he apologized,
For we did look much alike,
But even now I either get smirked or patted at,
For my embarrassment or my courage,
But I can't forget that knife in my hand,
Ready to fly any day,
For enough is only when the mind is content,
But my mind wants to play.
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 8:11 AM UTC
Another night
To do some harm
Another club stamp
On her arm.
***** whiskey,
Rock n roll
Lets the music
Fill her soul.
Knows all the bands
Heard every song
Hits every club
But doesn't belong.
She'll drink to pass
Another day
And rock to keep
The pain at bay.
Ran from a mistake
Then made some more
Got lost, but failure
Still found her door.
But there's VIP rooms
Drugs and ***
She'll distract the singer
Between sets.
Doesn't dwell
Can't go back
Mix ecstacy
With old regret.
Keep your distance
To not get hurt
Try it all
Go beserk.
'Cause mistakes won't find you
In a bar
Where no one knows
Who you are.
One Friday night
It starts to rain
A syringe sticks out
From her vein.
The party's pumpin'
Soundcheck done
The crowd's all here
Well, all but one.
The alley's cold
And so is she
Heroin's latest
Legacy.
Will anyone ask
"Where's whats-er-name?"
Will someone notice
She died of shame?
Jul 28, 2010
Jul 28, 2010 at 8:23 PM UTC
tease and taunt
pick and poke
scratch and maul
stab and choke
bring us this
bring us that
hello brother
fill my hat
merry christmas
help a ******
seasons’ greetings
stuff your monkey
i want i pad
i love i mad
i spend i fly
i live i die
text me facebook
email me twitter
**** champagne
and roll in glitter
where is love
an epic fail
why is lindsay
not in jail
give me more
give me more
i want to be
a retail *****
mommy mommy
why is santa
burping loud
to **** mylanta
shred the paper
back to work
new year’s yay
go beserk
another year
of joy and love
return this item
push and shove
was here first
you stupid ****
wait there’s oprah
let’s all hug
holiday wish from
me to thou
holy hell
shoot me now
Dec 14, 2013
Dec 14, 2013 at 11:26 AM UTC
That’s another story timing the pace to match the waste of time
She makes a box of remembered sounds catapulting across the room
And stores them in measured rows of lines of time with tentacles reaching the floor
Its not the seemingly nonsense that drives her to beserk-dom but the seemingly sense it all makes
Take that and that she says and jousts her thoughts into the paper lid that forms the tray of her mind
Pulling it out like drawers in the mortuary the morgue the home of the funeral director and associates
Examining it like the rock collection of her youth the butterfly cases of the PhD the recipes snipped clipped
But that’s another story
This story speaks of wasted time lounging on chairs and couches in front of firelight and TV ions
The dryer rocks the clothes dry the washer beats it clean knocking the detergent to the floor
It needs to be balanced that’s all but how how to balanced she’s not the tools
The fridge ice frozen in the line and the disposal as well stopped in time no action from either all quiet
She’ll do it later get the guy who fixes things to come by and not fix it but says next time
And fixes something not broke and charges her anyway and cleans the gutters but sweeps the yard instead
Its this nonsense that makes the most sense padding around in hospital socks non slip to slip into his arms
What do you think a movie and dinner or just the *** you know the blood won't flow to both
And she hops on and hears her stomach growl it’s a trade he’ll do it next time the movie she means
The dinner ingredients dry up in the frozen fridge and she muscles the dryer to clean the vent
She’ll get the guy to come fix it but he doesn’t do appliances so he’ll fix something else that’s not broken
And says I wont charge you as much this time I’ll bring the brush to clean out the dryer so it can rock the clothes
But that’s the story the other story of her tender soft spots making memories in boxes pulled out like drawers
Her drawers on the floor as he rocks her like clothes in the dryer around and around up and down tumbled and dried
Moist to the fingertips her memories linger scent upon scent crouching to see why the fridge is frozen
Under the peas and the tiny ice tray frozen in dinosaur shapes are piles of ice in bags awaiting the storm
Take it all out take it all to the counter and you tube the answer to the quest but end up couched crouching
Not seeing what the camera shows so she’ll call the guy and he’ll help her put the peas back and not charge at all
This time
Feb 7, 2019
Feb 7, 2019 at 12:51 AM UTC
Got in from work,
Boss had a nag,
Had to do some extra work,
My goodness,
I'm flaming a ****
Should have done it months ago,
Now I've gone beserk!
Started it at seven,
Now gone half eleven,
Should have finished it by now,
Left it much too long,
I'm such a silly cow!
Will do some again in the morrow,
Lots more grief,
Loads more sorrow,
But despite it all,
Poetry still comes to call,
Goodnight ,
For work tomorrow,
Much love to one and all !
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Jul 23, 2013
Jul 23, 2013 at 6:55 PM UTC
As the clouds as my floor
And the red sky at my door
I feel my thoughts running through
There’s only so much i can do
Hours slowly pass, the night climbs
I’ll drift to sleep to pass the time
But it doesn’t work
I’m going beserk.
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 10:49 AM UTC
Am I absurd
To think some words
Can change the outcome
Of a world
Gone beserk
With wars that can't be won.
When the absurd is heard,
What good can come?
I seldom write on love,
Youth's passions cooling:
I use my words
On worldly concerns,
Hoping to be heard.
Truly,
Am I absurd?
Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 11:53 AM UTC
*Whence did thee depart the orb
To seek the pearls of Jobe ?
Whence did thou retire to rob
And don the elder's robe ?
Whence did thee run far from home
To flee assassin's work ?
Whence was good sense realised
That thee had gone beserk ?
Whence did good become the bad
And rampantcy run wild ?
For whom friend, doth the bell toll
In the slaughter of this child ?
What will the fate's bequeath us
With this legacy of wrong ?
From whence will come the melody
When wrong consumes the song ?*
Marshalg
@theCoalface
3 November 2009
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 2:07 PM UTC
who the ****
does He think He is?
blasphemy, blasphemy, blasphemy.
but i don't care.
not when it's too much,
too concentrated,
all at once.
and He knows just what to do
and just who to hurt
to make me go beserk,
to make me go
"ooh, ooh, ooh"
like a ******* baby cow.
why not me?
Presbyterian guilt,
or just empathy,
or the feeling that you get
when everyone you love
has done everything they can
to hurt my parallel,
but not me, no never me.
why not?
why not me?
because He knows how to punish us,
and my greatest fear
is the pain of others.
so, so, so
complicated.
so, so, so
concentrated.
so ****** up
and selfish of me
to even ask the question,
why not me?
Mar 10, 2019
Mar 10, 2019 at 10:47 PM UTC
Things seemed to be fixed,
they were set in stone.
But now everything been mixed,
and I'm here all alone.
Your actions confuse me,
How am I suppost to react?
When all you seem to want to see,
is me "intact".
My act seems to work,
you don't question my words.
I'm going beserk,
and insanity is what I'm leaning towards.
I'm starting to lose sight,
of how things once were.
I know how we would fight,
but our love was the cure.
Things sure have changed,
in the shortest of time.
Now life is so strange,
now that you're not mine..
Nov 10, 2010
Nov 10, 2010 at 5:30 PM UTC
This is not poetry
these are just my
broken
uncontrollable
beserk
unbalanced
crazy
thoughts.
©misterfantasist
Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 10:56 PM UTC
Agitated am I,
As to why I cannot express my heart,
I've met my limitation,
As just a start.
I sat here for hours,
Staring at the blank sheet of paper,
Having unwanted thoughts in my head,
Hearing nothing but the water vapor.
What happened to my abilities,
Where I was never stressed and had no fear,
I over think everything now,
Take a good look at me; I'm shear.
I've lost my self-confidence,
Always critisize my work,
Why can't I write to perfection?
I must be going beserk!
Empty and lost,
With nothing to say,
I have a writer's block,
To this day.
Feb 13, 2013
Feb 13, 2013 at 8:01 PM UTC
This world is not kind by no means
It is full of stupid people
Everywhere I go I seem like I
Have to bend over and take it up
The ******* ***
Boy I must like to get ****** that way
People are not nice not kind
They are all full of ****
I feel like I'm surrounded by idiots
But I guess that's the way it goes
I try to be kind but people think
That's just a way to weakness
Where I'm at, you have to play the badass
And that's seems like the story of my life
I don't want no ******* pity nor feelings is sorrow
I just would like to know why the universe
Seems like it's not aligned with me
That it wants me to experience these things
Well, I don't want to
I want peace of mind
But karma wants to **** with me
Well, **** karma!
I'm tired of dooshbags that want to **** with me
Is that all the world is made up of- troublemakers
Well **** that!
I'm on the verge of going beserk
And take all these ************* out of here
I feel a lot of people don't even need to be breathing
I feel the world would be a better place if they were dead
Thank the Heavenly Stars I'm not God
There would be a select few
Feb 11, 2017
Feb 11, 2017 at 7:38 PM UTC
Why is the world so ****** up?
Am I adding to the **** up ness
Or am I contributing something
The sad truth is I'm adding chaos
There is no peace in me
Turmoil and despair is all I see
I think positive
Only to have it come crashing down
I've spent my whole life taking from the Universe
It's no wonder why things are the way they are
Karma has a huge role in it
Cause all I think about is me me me
And not focus on the other person
I am sometimes interested
But for the most part it's about me
So sad that I can be that way
How do I possibly change
When all I've ever been is extremely selfish?
I want to give back to society
Everyone has put up with me for far too long
I feel it's my duty to show my gratitude
For I am still breathing fresh air
And not locked up
Or in a mental institution
Going beserk
And the final outcome
Dead
Mar 17, 2017
Mar 17, 2017 at 3:36 PM UTC
Don't fear the unknown atomsphere.
Who birthed thee earth?
The devil or god's work?
A mental nervous breakdown of complete beserk.
A heart unwilling to be broken.
Refuse to get choken.
Second hand smoking.
Forever always hoping.
You were a scholar of wisdom.
Mom thought you were a ***
Just because money you didn't have none.
She is stupid, blind, deaf, & dumb.
Dad your absence made me sad.
Each other's company we no longer had.
Her divorcing you was wrong & bad.
It made me angry & mad.
The old bitter hag is glad.
You were a good man.
You used to drive a white van.
The old crone kicked you out, & had you banned.
She still screams & shouts.
She is the one who should've been banished.
To disappear & vanish.
You didn't own your own land.
But you were always willing to lend a helping hand.
He never had many plans.
Arizona was where you ran.
I guess the she is both someone we couldn't stand.
Jan 15, 2015
Jan 15, 2015 at 11:51 AM UTC
he lays slumbering
tho the sun be bright
on hand grasping linen
the othe out of sight
he lays sleeping
not a care in the world
his face unfurrowed
his hair disarreyed curls
he is handsome
and beautiful too
unrazored cheeks
closed eyes of a green blue
his chest broad and deep
rises slowly in his sleep
all that mars this perfect scene
are the shuffle snores
as he dreams, little bulldozers
at busy work, chug-chug- chugging
driving me beserk
he lays sleeping, i do not
unfortunately this happens
a lot
he wakes refreshed
i wake cranky
mine is the last laugh,
the best revenge
this morning, no hanky
or panky...
Jul 21, 2017
Jul 21, 2017 at 7:41 PM UTC
She whispers in my ear that everything will be alright.
She tells me that I do not have to stay up all night.
She reminds me to take a break,
and to treat myself to cake.
She nags me to not overwork myself,
and that I don't have to be exhausted to like myself.
She never cheers me on when I work,
Instead, she starts to go beserk.
She likes when I listen to her.
Even more, when I spend time with her.
I should have known better than to become friends
with a girl named Procrastinate.
Feb 26, 2019
Feb 26, 2019 at 1:31 PM UTC