"blubbered" poems
I’m minded today we have a choice
to make our mark and raise our voice
but there are those, it’s very funny
who’d tell you how they’d spend your money.
All over Europe pundits gather
getting themselves in quite a lather
giving opinions on issues political
trying to make them sound so critical.
Skeletons found in many a cupboard
the found out grimace, some have blubbered
and later when all votes are counted
disappointment follows campaigns mounted.
In Germany too they’ll do their thing
as seats stay put or make a swing
France and Italy, Ireland too
votes for Europe are quite a to-do.
Votes are counted on Sunday of course
and Dimbleby brothers roll out in force
the great Swingometer comes into play
as seats are won across the UK.
After all the dust has settled
new MEPs all keen and mettled
all take their seats with po-faced pride
personal pleasure they try to hide.
And so to business for some it’s new
there are many and various things to do
like getting claims in for their expenses
the sitting places – the search for fences.
Alliances to make are the next big thing
who’ll vote with you on anything
but represent those who for you voted
or you’ll be out next time, I hope that’s noted.
©Joe Wilson – The European Elections 2014
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 1:12 PM UTC
Yesterday evening,
As I was traveling,
We hit the river styx.
The bussers got to scattering,
And a man made out of twigs
Sat next to me with a swish.
With teeth all a'chattering
Through a stutter-ridden lisp,
He blubbered and he spit
As he asked me for a kiss.
I said "that's quite flattering,
But you smell like stagnant ****
And I don't have any patience
For this attempted tryst."
With a devilish twist
Of his knotted, wooden wrist,
He handed me a Twix,
And said "eat this piece of candy
And I'll grant your every wish."
I knew it would be handy
When I packed some liquorice,
And though he was too handsy,
His promise seemed legit.
I traded him my sweets
And I ate his offered treat,
Then I feel asleep as quick
As a widow starts to weep.
I must admit
I was shocked
To find myself a heap,
A pile of trash
Cast aside
To be swept off of the street.
Lesson learned,
Ingrained deep:
Never trust
A timber creep
You meet upon a bus,
And never eat
Offered sweets,
Or else you will get mugged.
Mar 1, 2013
Mar 1, 2013 at 8:30 PM UTC
Thrice-Strung Judges, Thirty Pieces you Shout
Be that Iscariot or Ally you relay
How the Once-Loved Prince now the Blubbered Pout
Has sent me to Interest another Fey
So it seems a Pillow for the Sullen
Whom by Lines saw no End to this Debate -
Which Petal weans; Or scratches Tears fallen
Least charge one's Sanity before its too Late
The Wheel was Right. Through Change Strength will confer
And sign assurance Monopoly disown
For Saner Men; And Women leaves Fresher
Let each bare Happiness bid for Reknown.
How Wonderous be, this Marble whirls for Love,
Then Season the Troll; Then Sever the Dove.
Jul 12, 2013
Jul 12, 2013 at 7:56 AM UTC
***** the wil-'o-the-wisp sadly sat at home
for he was young and much too small
to roam the swamp alone
He wanted to be an elusive light
mysterious, misguiding and haunting the night.
„Oh swamp“ he whined „it all goes so slow
I don't want to stay home – please help me to grow!“
„Shut up, little ones, enough of that weeping“
bubbled the swamp and then started sleeping
„Oh not again“ the old tree moaned as ***** burst out in tears
and raised his branches left and right
to cover up his ears.
Meanwhile a burglar with Police had a battle
with a big bag of loot he had to skedaddle
into the swamp and lost the way.
He watched out for a guiding light
but all he found was crying *****
(wil-o'-the whisping really not bright)
„What's that?“ the burglar snidely asked
„a lousy glooming firefly?
can't even light my cigarette
get out of my way little bug“
and proceeded to pass by.
This now was too much for Willy's pride
(teenagers often freak out)
He drew himself to his fullest height
and he shouted loud:
„listen you mean and human thing – I am no dim-lit light!
Beware of the rage of an wil-o'-the wisp!“
and then he run completely wild
„Hear what I will bring to you
first death then pain and sorrow
I'll **** you first then chase you down
for you there's no more tomorrow
I'll lead you into deepest swamp to a puddle of mud
and when you start to drown in it – I'll watch you in cold blood“
(if we were picky in logic and order we surely now have to complain
but let's close an eye for he is still very young – back to the story again)
Inspite all efforts and Willy's threats
the burglar did not catch a word
(wil-o'-the-wisping as language is not very common
and therefore not often heard)
Let's say (to help our ***** a bit)
the burglar was slightly confused
so nothing much happend
until the swamp woke up
and swamp was not amused
„Who dared to disturbe my holy sleep?“
he blubbered with utmost grim
Willy's finger pointed out to the burglar then
and he sheepishly squeaked „that was him!“
Swamp did not hesitate too long
burglar sank into swamp to a place deep and stealthy
(for medical reasons we have to admit
this can't be considered as healthy)
In the next days ***** did not no more complain
to spend some more time at home
as he learned one thing this very day:
there are many ways that lead to Rome.
(©Heike Borgard 2014)
Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 6:58 PM UTC
#6
After the casseroles from anxious neighbors
And the flowers stopped arriving
And a last aging aunt blubbered goodbye,
I left the silent house,
Drove to the foothills
And began to climb.
Atop your favorite peak,
I opened the urn
And gave your ashes to the sky.
Will I ever stop wondering where you’ve gone?
The light was changing
As I descended into
The mountain's immense shadow.
Nov 17, 2015
Nov 17, 2015 at 10:02 PM UTC
To my brother,
You’re here now
But where were you?
When your gangly group
Of friends pushed me down
Stole my bike and you went along
Mama said you were just trying to fit in
As if that justified it
Where were you?
When Dad struck me
For spilling milk on his album
Tears were shed, bums were smacked
You yelled right along
Singing the tune to your abusive song
Where were you?
When Mama cried
‘Cuz Grandma died
And I sobbed all alone
I reached for your hand, and you smacked it away
They say people deal with death differently
But how is calling me dumb,
Going to soothe your middle-school pain?
Where were you?
When Mama yelled at me
I couldn’t do my math
Oh how I tried and blubbered snotty answers
She saw the tears on my face
While you stood, watching on the staircase
ADHD, but I didn’t know it yet
So until then, I listened to you call me ********
You’re here now,
Living in your palace of ice
I sure hope Canada is treating you nice
Because here in my den,
You’ll never be welcome again
Dec 29, 2016
Dec 29, 2016 at 5:32 PM UTC
Humpty Trumpty
sat on his wall
bleating and blathering,
condemning us all.
"I know the way,
I'm better than you,"
Tweeted he every night
over his golf course view.
"I don't care for
Mexicans,
Muslims,
and not so much
Jews...
Well, at least not the Dems and
those on the
'news'.
I prefer instead
those painted orange,
like me,
in fine Italian shoes.
I'm the President now,
I decide
if the sky stays blue...
not the the artists or the scientists...
and certainly not
you.
I'll make this Country great again!
You'll see,
I know what to do!
Put your faith in me,
a 'Billionaire'!
I promise,
I'll tell you true!"
Hollered he up high,
his chubby fingers crossed,
as his great jowels blubbered,
and his voice quaked with frost.
"I wonder," thought I,
reading his alternate 'facts' of the day,
"Maybe he wouldn't be so grumpy
if his daddy had loved him more,
or at all,
or maybe,
just maybe,
if his fat greedy hands
weren't so
*********
small."
Nov 3, 2020
Nov 3, 2020 at 7:54 AM UTC
No man
With a good van
Needs justification
I blubbered
In a lay-by
May 17, 2014
May 17, 2014 at 9:09 PM UTC
Oh the Americana days
are waning babe
Feel like I gotta put on spurs
and give those haters the boot
cause you said our love
would grow bigger than
Texarcana to The Ohio
Oh baby didn't you know
the lines in your mama's
old trip tips continue to grow
The distance ain't just physical
it's in my rattling antique thinker
as well as the snow
on them cold smoky mountains
did you really forget to
hang up the phone?
or was you talking to your sister 'bout
that dude at the ranch
from your sepia childhood picture
I found in the locket
you left by the brass lamp
I blubbered all night
hoping he's a long lost brother
you never cared to open up about
Here I am popping another
Genny red tall
while your answering machine's full
Oh whoa whoa whoa
guess this is what they mean
about changes in the fall
I skip another rock across
the whole **** river
but no one else saw
Nov 21, 2021
Nov 21, 2021 at 4:37 PM UTC