"dimwit" poems
Sleepless, tired every day,
working for hours no one remembers,
daylight and moonlight don’t get a say,
her clock is her own she says,
queen of night, her struggle initiates,
raise our hats to every hardworking girl.
Her eyes tell the story,
of how they broke the rules of sleep,
sky commands world to witness the sunrise,
humanity rises and she falls asleep,
even in dreams her spirits don’t rest,
Nights don’t dare touch hardworking girl,
Bags under her eyes and still she won’t quit,
goals and dreams always chasing,
still she creates time to help a ******
he humbly praises God for her being,
touches every soul she ever meets,
words are too small for that girl.
Some say she is a myth,
around every corner I find her,
shies away strongest metal on Earth,
fire so severe of determination,
I now weep in her praise,
story of every woman, this hardworking girl.
Apr 22, 2020
Apr 22, 2020 at 11:07 AM UTC
You’re a jester,
Trading nasty jokes for belly laughs,
For the ****** King and his insane court.
At first, they laugh
At your tired old antics
And desperate attempts to get attention,
You’re slipping on spilled blood
And juggling hearts
For lack of anything really humorous with which to entertain.
You draw the eye
With your flamboyant clothes and sloppy painted face,
But once drawn, interest wanes with shocking speed.
You can’t keep any of them,
But you don’t really care,
As long as you’re laughing.
You’re a jester.
You’re a fool.
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 10:58 AM UTC
This morning i watched Jeremy kyle!
Another father in a useless denile!
Another ***** with the width of a bar stool,
Chucks another father in with the disgusting gene pool.
Miserable forlorn Cattle going to slaughter,
Have more class than your abhorent daughter!
The pity i feel for that wretched child,
Thats bought up in a system that's been defiled.
The onlookers cheer as another ****** makes a jest.
About the poor man shes been using is clothed in some ill fitting vest.
Well done contestant three,
You have proved to us the ***** you can be!
Now please take your rapid leave,
Before we call your **** or boyfriend Steve.
That you've been sleeping with your cousin,
And no doubt have his bun in your oven!
Jan 27, 2011
Jan 27, 2011 at 5:34 PM UTC
*In deep psychedelic trance
his companion painted
canvases that mix past,
present and future, factually
as quantum physics would vouch;
all of it co-exists, don't turn
a blind eye, it's not fair.
"There is more past here
that try to unseat future,
than the presence of present,
we would make reality sleep
won't believe in its patented lies,
we'd create a present,
in its fantasy, see the future"
The narrative is pictured as fallows:
The Cat and the Mouse
stopped their games,
they invented as a past time,
and also serious business.
Lucky prince befriended
a happy pauper.
The beauty beguiled
the friendly beast,
both eloped and
lived happily somewhere.
The bored king hugged
the leader of the coup
"I was dying
to abdicate at the earliest,
you were my last hope,
good riddance" he yawned,
sounding like cockerel.
He looked much relieved;
uneasy is the head
on which a crown sits
like a ****** politico
at the moment of election result.
The painter watching
what is going on said:
"Well, the colors I selected
this far, were all wrong.
Now, I am going to look twice
before I decide"
But when she worked
on her imagination
her manifesto was thrown out,
she was far more spontaneous
there is the rub.
Can't say, whether
the philosopher was pleased or not,
one can't definitely tell
he only smiled and hurried back to
catch the last bus he missed.*
Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 3:09 AM UTC
I inherit the tome of your life nearly complete.
The first pages well-worn and traveled by your daughters,
Now yellowing and stiffening before the onslaught of grandchildren.
The middle is clean and organized,
The pages laid out in the brick of a self-built home,
The words of 'wife' and 'child' recorded with care and detail.
As the chapters progress, your handwriting turns.
Tidy inscriptions widen and loop, and mastery becomes primitive.
In the mire of your later stories I am lost, as - it seems - you are.
It is hard to discern the fact from the fiction,
The present moments from the conjured memories.
In the final pages, there is a remarkable renaissance.
You shed the child's scrawl and the dimwit's jargon,
And the master stands before us once more.
You write of pain, of struggle, of fear,
And the pages crack and fall out.
Closing the book and adding it to the shelf,
Your story is not yet ended.
All around are novels of lives,
And they take from yours their inspiration.
There are four novels of daughters, and four of their husbands
Twelve of grandchildren, six of their spouses
Thirteen of great grandchildren, and three to be delivered.
There are books of neighbors, books of friends,
Pamphlets of patrons, and journals of soldiers.
Each a part of your story, each a part of the library
Each magnificent, and each unique.
And in the center, care-worn and complete,
Is you, grandfather.
Feb 12, 2014
Feb 12, 2014 at 8:53 AM UTC
“Humankind: be kind – be One!
I am appalled at what’s been done.
Benign intentions must restrain us.
Hate should never entertain us.”
The toad comedian Ban Ki-Moon
croaked a pitiful One-World tune
while gunmen paused, reloaded, armed
checked that they had no comrades harmed –
and then prepared for further battle
against the clueless kuffar cattle.
Ban stood upright to intervene;
surveyed the terrorific scene…
muezzins chanted, mullahs chuckled
swords were sharpened, bomb-vests buckled.
Dhimmi dim-wits went on shopping.
(Are heads in sand less prone to chopping ?)
Hesitating, he cleared his throat,
raised his pitch by a quarter note:
“These acts are most undemocratic
We are saddened; yet emphatic – “
(no one heard his discourse further
drowned by the sound of massive ******
So let’s consider what is meant
by rolling heads and bodies splattered…
time for Truth to represent
(as if such inconvenience mattered…)
Such events disturb our sleep
and force us to compose, on waking,
lullabies for drowsy sheep
as predators are overtaking.
Flags of doom and holy slaughter,
sons of Ishmael filled with rage
are coming for your wife and daughter
and yourself. You turn the page.
Rising now to storm your tower
(7th century back to bite you),
Allah brings satanic power
to convert you or to smite you.
****** dhimmis would have us think
such rage is due to unemployment;
pure confusion on the brink
of funding further troop deployment.
Meanwhile, mullahs sip their tea
while tenured academics prattle
watching MSNBC
as soldiers die in battle.
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 8:31 PM UTC
It was a day
Somewhat resembling today.
When, abandoning Ramachandran, Shivan
And ****** Mary,
And leaving them to sit in the sixth standard again,
Forty three of them
Went single file to seventh A.
Where did these tears,
That were missing then,
Originate, now?
Ramachandran did odd jobs even then
Shivan’s mother was a beggar
****** Mary’s name itself spoke aloud
But what was wrong with me?
And That was what Meenakshi teacher asked too that day
If she were my mother,
I could at least have answered ‘O go away’!
It was later that Meenakshi teacher’s right breast
Got removed due to cancer
“It is because of the evil eye, teacher
In case the answer is correct,
Give me marks and send me to the seventh”.
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 9:17 AM UTC
You crave human touch, like flowers crave the sun after a long winter, but you won't believe it when they give it you.
You expect everyone else to mean everything they say, just because you do, but God, aren't you stupid? You're single handedly handing tickets to your own doom.
You see him as summer rain, as sweet ginger tea, as fronds on the living room, you see him as home, but you and I know he barely knows who you are.
You're living the masochists ways. You're craving what you can't have. You're loving who won't love you back
Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 9:11 PM UTC
In ancient times the joker
buffoon, **** or dolt
Town fool, and choker
****** dunderhead, and dope
In every time and place
named, reviled and/or revered
Humor to the masses
Smiles, laughs, grins, and jeers
Where would I be
and how would I know
the fool that's fooling here
with wits not fast, but slow
lets have another
beer
Apr 20, 2017
Apr 20, 2017 at 10:56 AM UTC
So let’s consider what is meant
by rolling heads and bodies splattered…
time for Truth to represent
(as if such inconvenience mattered…)
Such events disturb our sleep
and force us to compose, on waking,
lullabies for drowsy sheep
as predators are overtaking.
Flags of doom and holy slaughter,
sons of Ishmael filled with rage
are coming for your wife and daughter
and yourself. You turn the page.
Rising now to storm your tower
(7th century back to bite you),
Allah brings satanic power
to convert you or to smite you.
****** dhimmis would have us think
such rage is due to unemployment;
pure confusion on the brink
of funding further troop deployment.
Meanwhile, mullahs sip their tea
while tenured academics prattle
watching MSNBC
as soldiers die in battle.
Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 7:30 PM UTC
The longest word in the English language
Is also the shortest, stupidest and most solid word.
it was Invented in 1500 and something by a young William Shakespeare
He actually discovered it on the back of a packet of chewin' tobacco.
Somewhere amidst the indigenous ingredients
So , the ****** actually plagiarized
the world's most funkiest,
fearsome word
Claimed it as his own work
Copyrighted it
And made a **** load of money
Made a truck load too
Yes I know, trucks didn't exist in his Era
But ****** did
Male ones
Ugly, uneducated, unnerving ones
Ones from the back alleys of nowhere
who dressed as ladies then as guys
But their disguise was hideously, horrible
I mean, 'ideously 'orrible
No "H's " for those fine, fortunate, fellows
And I will be criticised for my use of the english language
But, that language is a mongrel
A mangy, malnourished mutt, named Fritz
Feb 1, 2013
Feb 1, 2013 at 7:58 PM UTC
Tender means easily broken.
broken like a teapot,
shattered like glass.
Transparent means too clear.
clear as day,
crystal as mine.
Trickery means masked to fool.
Fool who fell,
****** who dare.
Trapped means suffocated.
suffocated by drama,
chocked by insecurities.
Hurt means cruel pain.
cruel pain in the chest,
burned out in the heart.
And though I wish I were less blunt. My heart is hurt, my lungs have stopped. My brain is goo, because of you. but you play it off well, so do as you do. I try to be calm and forget it, you know, but this bitter feeling continues to flow. It hurts worst than shows can make it seem, but the show must go on for every scene. So no scars, no death, no drama I swear. And I'll be like I always was. I'll always be there. It's not your fault and will never be. If only...no never mind. Well....if only she was me.
Sep 21, 2013
Sep 21, 2013 at 10:00 PM UTC
He stole something from her bed
and, it began messing with her head...
A Greek man came into her home
late at night when she was all alone
A naive girl who had wanted to learn a bit
about the culture of this ******
she regretted ever
meeting him
nearly scrubbing off
her entire skin
and, while her tears ..
like water rained on down
her sobs fell deafly to the ground...
for what seemed like hours, and hours...
while she stood weeping
in her shower.
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 11:59 AM UTC
Still with me his memory stays
A boy I knew in childhood days
On street corner he bore the sun
From rain emptied road didn’t run!
They called him ******* up bit insane
His skin was numb sense felt no pain
Else why he would just aimless roam
Most of time outside of home!
If asked his name in whispered hum
Would say I don’t know knows my mum
What’s two plus two if asked some fool
His answer was not taught in school!
To a school he was though never sent
His class was road book firmament
All he knew was that syllabus
His own riddles and plus minus!
He was known as good for none
Except for pranks and some fun
Ill clad uncared like an urchin
There wasn’t a home with a boy like him!
Woke me one night footsteps and shouts
In a neighborhood house fire had broken out
Amid billowing smoke and leaping flame
The crowd was crying out the boy’s name!
He had gone in there without a thought
The fire’s fury he was afraid not
It seemed so silly this heroic feat
But the boy you know was too ******
To this day it haunts me to know
Why he did that what to show
I heard the buzz rumors were rife
He had gone in there to save a cat’s life!
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 3:02 AM UTC
Off the stove!
(that ****** cat.)
No! No! No! No!
(Not in my hat...!)
Your litter box
Is over there.
(But he just smiles.
He doesn't care.
My cat scats
Cat ****
Anywhere.)
Feb 18, 2011
Feb 18, 2011 at 8:19 PM UTC
He was a bull goose ******
And he always was to begin with
So how did you get in the groove
To think he would improve
As if electing him to office would
Turn him magically good?
No matter how much we booed
This country is now *******
And the sad thing is that many
Had to stay home for this *****
To get to win the whole race
Instead of being put in his place.
So, now are facing the possibility
Despite all reasonable credibility
Our fine and beloved old nation
Is facing humiliating obliteration.
Those of us who have survived
How our country got so swived
That it has taken nearly a decade
To clean up the mess Dubya made
Know this sense of fear and outrage
We felt in that scary bygone age.
We know terror is back once again
To drown us in that same fen.
It is spooky and amazing
The swath the GOP is blazing
With their hatred of common folks,
Their slurs and ****** jokes
All aimed to ****** freedom
By spouting lies they call wisdom
While millions of fools believe crap
All unaware their rhetoric is pap.
Jan 22, 2017
Jan 22, 2017 at 4:58 PM UTC
i o nim iskrą w rrdze,
w gre na tło innych
narodziń -
i nim o iskre:
krzemień o krzemień -
i kość o kość - nauka kaligrafii...
jak i ten co o męke
łuku ziemi w dary
oddać pierw chciał nic, a potem proch -
o potem kichnąć
w sto braci leczy naród prośbą! też jak ja,
obudzić ozór! **** powiadomił...
niechaj ten ozór - horongiew nasza -
akcentów ilości sie zajada,
bo tyle umie -
i tyle wyzna - jak i słowem sie
zachwyci: po rosaj i po germańsku -
na weekend - i tym tam,
na czeł Mongoła: zapomnień, i
zapomniawszy: zwany Lach, hujem
przez sukiennice i kreski sławnych tabu
ilokroci -
i ta bida... stokroci.
siała baba mak... ni widziała jak...
chlop... chlop... chlop...
siała baba mak, ni widiała jak...
bo tu kurvasiet chłop! chłop!
kak duszy Khrushchev? ni pomogje!
naz gu!
niet harasho! niet! haraшo?
Las Vegas etя: Lon-don, Pa-ri-ri Piri Piri
Mex hey ** i co. - etc.
******* ****** Bahamas **** cult яя.
Sep 21, 2016
Sep 21, 2016 at 12:04 AM UTC
You don’t understand,
To me losing my faith,
Is like cutting off my right hand.
You don’t discriminate against,
Gender, race or inquisition,
But you judge me for my religion?
You take my words,
Then twist them with your ignorant tongue,
Like I am some sort of disease that rats have brung.
And condemn me to being an idiot,
Like you’re not a ******
For refusing to accept my beliefs.
No matter how much you judge me,
No matter how strong you hate,
You will never stop me believing,
Because your opinion is weak compared to my faith.
Mar 23, 2017
Mar 23, 2017 at 5:12 PM UTC
silence surrounds
me
thoughts won't
flow
words stuck
inside
im stuck on this line
blank
blank
******
dummy
you used to be so smart
what
happened?
dad would say it's the ****
mom would say it's my attitude
or
lack of gratitude
blank
blank
I'm a ******
I'm a dummy
I used to be so smart
but
sadness
surrounds
I arm wrestle her to get out of bed in the morning
I'm out of energy for the rest of the day
depression
dampens
my sunny spirit
I'm not a ****** and I'm not a dummy
I'm just
blank blank
maybe it will all go away if I just...
blink
Jul 6, 2017
Jul 6, 2017 at 6:39 PM UTC
Peps, here listen, hear me out
yeah I know you're all really doing your best
trouble is, your best isn't good enough
You're making us look like Keystone cops
all this haphazard stasis-cating around like drunk Ruskies
staying up late back early morning, obsessive yet incompetent
Yes, persistent is the key
thing is though, you're just too dumb
some of you think eggs grow on trees
after all there are egg plants, so surely eggs come from trees
yes! and we all live in a yellow submarine!
Now listen to me, you plebs
Don't you know what 'Royalty' means
do you think its some wishy washy label from Primark
or some honor you can buy at a Car boot sale
No, you pumpkins, it's not and don't mention 1066
or that opinionated zealous fool, Oliver Cromwell
If you don't know it yet, better know now
our Royal Adversary is Simply The Best
this man is as good as you can get
we are talking Exceptional here
we are talking, top drawer, creme de la creme
we are talking, One of a Kind, the Real Deal, yes!
We are the majority, yes..fat lot of good, that has done
you're all as common as muck, ****** ******** twerps
that's all you are.
yadda yadda this, yadda yadda that we are attacking his psyche
it's psychological warfare, it's mental and emotional assaults
it's your mother's *** you dumdum, the man is laughing at you
Christ! what's with you people, how useless are you!
I know half of you are demented psychos
and the other halves just plain simpletons and sheeps
now the blasted public are beginning to see that,
they are fed up, already!
I tell you now what your ******* problem is
you think we humans are all the same, you think he is on your level
you ***** think he thinks like you, sees like you, reacts like you.
You, yes you, are stupid, does he look stupid to you?
If you say yes, then you're even more stupid than I know
Just be ****** honest with yourselves and face facts
you are just common muck, oiks chewing straws
and the man is Class, quality, top grade, the business
gifted, talented, brave, courageous, exceptional and a ****** 'One of'
The Man is simply ROYAL, that's nobility for you
and say or write any **** you want, that's the ******* TRUTH
Now, get lost and go continue your nonsense
and don't steal anything on you way out, that's all you're good for!
jingoistic trash, time wasters full of dog's crap.
And you men, if one can call you men, with your floppy tiddlers,
put aside your prick-envy complexes and engage your brains.
( What brains, actually? )
Mar 17, 2019
Mar 17, 2019 at 9:40 AM UTC
Some people confuse why I started writing, it helps me to cope with the battles I'm fighting. I wanted to speak up, felt like it was my turn, I came to this website cause I wanted to learn. I read peoples' works and I felt so involved, and now I write more cause my style's evolved. A style unique although quite hard to find, a style that truly is one of a kind. Now I search this site for poems galore, all in the hopes that I can learn more. So that I can learn from the works I adore, So that I can take notes and my style will soar. That's why I'm a poet, I want to inspire, to be a role model and keep stoking the fires. I want to show people that I'm not a ****** that I'll keep on moving and break every limit.
May 10, 2017
May 10, 2017 at 9:56 PM UTC
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah I'm fine."
"Are you sure?"
"No. But you should know enough about me to know what's bothering me."
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 6:38 PM UTC
:What is can be done with you?
:You are left in the middle with no form of view
:You're a grey sheep to a sheppard
:You're a donation without a cause
:Your unsure of what you are yourself
:Your only perfection is full of flaws.
:What can be done with you?
:You never know what to say or what to do
:You lose all that you gain
:You give in pounds like a ****** and live broke as a toy
:You have no sense of happiness
:You have no sense of true joy.
:What can be done with you?
:You tell a love you hate them and to hatred you say the untrue.
:You seem to be a basket case,
:oh what can be done with you?
:You stay alive for yourself but live for others pleading
:You tear when they walk away
:You tear when you esteem is bleeding
:You want to get what you give away but you give it so it's gone.
:What can be done with you grey sheep?
:You're always so right and yet so wrong.
Jul 29, 2016
Jul 29, 2016 at 3:32 AM UTC