"fatuity" poems
He only imbibes because of his dipsomania.
She only practices onanism because she's afraid he'll impregnate her.
He despises her monomania.
She's too affable, almost to the point of being obsequious.
He's too acrimonious and muzzy.
She knows she's a bit of a coquette.
He thinks he's a cuckold.
She used to be flighty until she fell into this convoluted dystopia.
He used to find it scintillating to get sozzled.
She just wants a lark once in a while.
His iniquity makes him want her to be lascivious.
Her every fatuity leads to a cabal.
He's too opaque and insipid.
She has to iterate and reiterate everything she says.
He feels his infatuation is unrequited.
She finds this unproblematic.
He doesn't imbue her with anything anymore.
She thinks he's unpitying of that.
He'll malinger tomorrow.
She'll wonder if it's all adventitious or kismet.
She can't handle his odium.
He can't stand her ten dollar words.
Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 7:58 PM UTC
The sandman eludes me...
The hours find me wakeful.
My lungs ingests fatuity
while my heart harbours entropy.
Sleep never comes soon
when thoughts dishevelled,
amass to engulf the twilight moon.
To a point where fatigue has taken me...
But still I lay wakeful.
Awaiting the sandman's return,
with the promise of sanctuary.
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 4:16 PM UTC
Here
Is a timely
Noun to consider
From the Merriam-Webster page.
"Trumpery."
Note (at bottom) the list of near-antonyms;
what is the opposite of trumpery?
[Popularity: Bottom 40% of words]
trumpery
noun trum·pery \ˈtrəm-p(ə-)rē\
Definition of trumpery
1
a : worthless nonsense b : trivial or useless articles : junk <a wagon loaded with household trumpery — Washington Irving>
2
archaic : ****** finery
Origin of trumpery
Middle English (Scots) trompery deceit, from Middle French, from tromper to deceive
First Known Use: 15th century
Examples of trumpery
<claims for weight-loss products that are based much more on Madison-Avenue trumpery than on bariatric science>
Related to trumpery
Synonyms
applesauce [slang], balderdash, baloney (also boloney), beans, bilge, blah (also blah-blah), blarney, blather, blatherskite, blither, bosh, bull [slang], bunk, bunkum (or ******** claptrap, codswallop [British], crapola [slang], crock, drivel, drool, fiddle, fiddle-faddle, fiddlesticks, flannel [British], flapdoodle, folderol (also falderal), folly, foolishness, fudge, garbage, guff, hogwash, hokeypokey, hokum, hoodoo, hooey, horsefeathers [slang], humbug, humbuggery, jazz, malarkey (also malarky), moonshine, muck, nerts [slang], nuts, piffle, poppycock, punk, rot, ******* senselessness, silliness, slush, stupidity, taradiddle (or tarradiddle), tommyrot, tosh, trash, nonsense, twaddle
Related Words
absurdity, asininity, fatuity, foolery, idiocy, imbecility, inaneness, inanity, insanity, kookiness, lunacy; absurdness, craziness, madness, senselessness, witlessness; hoity-toity, monkey business, monkeyshine(s), shenanigan(s), tomfoolery; gas, hot air, rigmarole (also rigamarole); double-talk, greek, hocus-pocus
Near Antonyms
levelheadedness, rationality, reasonability, reasonableness, sensibleness; common sense, horse sense, sense; discernment, judgment (or judgement), wisdom
By: Robinson Bolkum
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 6:44 PM UTC
Distorted confirmation of self arrogance. Primitive tactics to reserve what no longer appears relevant. Hollow-filled apertures that indulges nothing but your own fatuity. But can you see through such an bombastic act? Of course you can't. The ground in which you stand upon is all you need to acknowledge. What you see is what was told to you and like a dog, an animal; you feed upon it. However, I have good news for you. You don't have to fret for I will be the one to protect you. I shall be the reassurance of your ignorance and shroud you with your own transient state of victory. Don't you see? Everything's going to be alright. I will bifurcate the tension and allow your very corridors to suffocate you.
This my friend is salvation. Let the wave's intangible force impale your breath. Let it slither through your sinews and let your veins corrode under the pressure of silence. Permit them, as if you had any choice to begin with; to be transformed into stone and eradicated into dust. My return? Oh, my return is imminent. The eventuality that is much more evident than the eventuality of eternal sleep to a human. So sit in the empty chair of Kings and make peace with the vanishing. Make it your throne and savor your trophies, your victories, and superiority. And vanish peacefully within the cool and gentle breeze of illusion.
Jul 24, 2012
Jul 24, 2012 at 7:50 AM UTC
Her mouth tasted of cigarettes and honey and the room was dark .
She lured me in with her distraught complexion and bottles of cheap ***** .
Nailed the doors shut and ****** me dry.
While the walls creaked and the roaches laughed.
In broken beds with broken people,
that's the only way I sleep at night.
A new pair of legs and this one has radiant skin that **** near glows.
There's a blemish by her **** in the shape of heart and under that heart is nothing.
She's hollow and damaged.
A defective mannequin that wonders the dim lit streets in folly.
I walk those same streets with equal fatuity.
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 2:01 PM UTC
Within a fecundity of fatuity
Squandered were all endeavors
Fazed I eluded
Unequivocal passion was sought
Yet still squandered were all endeavors
Candid without knowledge
Lacerated and forsaken
Forlorn I languished
Betwixt the vacuous cracks
Of black and white pavements
May 30, 2012
May 30, 2012 at 2:57 PM UTC
*"It would be a statement of complete fatuity were I to claim I had approached the venture with no measure of trepidation." - Myself, moments after writing this poem.*
I claim very little.
I claim the cold of the night as regards my own warmth.
I claim the twinge in my right ankle for no one else would, surely.
I claim what little daylight I see and that sees me.
I claim the stagnation and degradation of my soul which I allowed to prosper deep within myself in all those hurtful years I spent convincing myself that you would eventually be capable of loving me as I did you.
I am.
I am aware.
I am a vigil for myself.
I engage the world for my own ends.
I sing a song that carries no one.
I breathe only when my lungs will suffer no further delay.
I am the concept of revulsion that stirs the body instinctively, like unnecessary skin.
I am the cold entity who never felt an embrace, whose face slips out of view of the light of the flickering bulb.
I wrong myself furiously.
I rarely forgive.
I choke on the water. I burn in the deep tissues.
I feel the idea of desire, and I smell the smoke, the herbs, and the mud.
I prepare a table for myself in the presence of my infirmities, and I cannot help but look at my self between my fevers of antique wakefulness.
And I wish to God this had a happy ending.
Nov 3, 2010
Nov 3, 2010 at 10:02 PM UTC
Regarding the Trump administration...
Trump says his administration
Runs just like a "fine-tuned machine."
He's got to be kidding! This is the most
Dysfunctional one we've ever seen!
Yikes!
Regarding General Flynn…
Regarding Flynn's resignation,
Trump refuses to give up the fight.
He says that Flynn did nothing wrong;
"If anything, he did something right."
Yikes!
Regarding the Electoral College…
Trump insists that since Ronald Reagan,
He received the most votes.
Bush one, Bill Clinton, and Obama got more.
Who the heck is writing his notes?
Yikes!
Regarding the media…
Trump's still calling the questioning press
Dishonest, and he cannot understand
Why there's so much negativity.
He lives in a definite fantasy land!
Yikes!
Regarding TV…
Trump considers "Fox & Friends"
The most "honest morning show."
That is downright scary to hear.
Fatuity's reached a new plateau.
Yikes!
Regarding bigotry and respect…
Trump says he's the least racist
Person that you'll ever see.
And last fall he said that no one
Respects women more than he!
Yikes!
- by Bob B (2-16-17)
Feb 16, 2017
Feb 16, 2017 at 8:52 PM UTC
I was late,
Frantically running in hopes I'd make it to the meeting on time.
I was distracted,
Not worried where I was going, but worried about when I'd get there.
I was careless,
I stepped on the flower in the crack of the sidewalk I so carefully appreciated in days past.
After the meeting, I was released on a lunch break.
There, I ran into him.
A man of broad appearance, yet short structure.
A man from work who had a meeting proceeding lunch.
As we talked, time seemed to slip from our grasp.
I took the journey back to work on foot, while he operated his motor vehicle and realized:
He was late,
Frantically driving, swerving in an out of lanes, exceeding speed limits in hopes he'd make it in time.
He was distracted,
Checking his phone for updates on his current situation, he ceased to notice he was headed into the crosswalk.
He was careless,
His seconds of fatuity caused a mistake that could never be withdrawn.
The smile he carried just moments ago was now contained by the gentle housing of his lips.
Creases dawned from the furrow of his brow, caused by the saturated eyes he wore beneath his languid eyelids.
As the time between his inhalation crescendoed, mine slowed to a stop.
He stole my breath.
I was late,
Frantically gasping in hopes they'd arrive promply.
I was distracted,
Not worried about who was coming, but when they'd show.
I was careless,
Here I lay as the flower, once alive in a dreadful place.
Nov 18, 2017
Nov 18, 2017 at 1:02 AM UTC
Translucent truths
are difficult to glimpse
when they're obscured
purposely.
The ignorance I've observed
is astonishing in its fatuity.
The obviosities
are abnormally
perceived by
amaurotic minds.
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 10:43 AM UTC
Why in the world
we're blaming love
for being un-loved?
Feb 22, 2019
Feb 22, 2019 at 8:10 PM UTC
"WE therefore commit his body to the deep, to be turned into
corruption, looking for the resurrection of the body..."
I am hundred years dead
And the water is dread wide —
Hunch I my head against the wind
Straight from the shoulder, H/E angst,
But goes my algorithm awry —
Memory nipped my insanity yesternight...
... ... Mortified right I was;
Ain't cotton to lovers for years...no...
Could slip they my pious sleep away
By a little sleight of hand...
Love is a briny deep, but sets at the shore,
Vaporizing the Vistavision — and
How all the dreams that sound subdued,
Not to be assayed and to be limited not,
Follow the spells of fatuity's skill sorcerous —
From the cradle to the pyre
Chased I the broken velvet sky; let
The sacred shudder to ask what toxins they contain;
Eventide breaks from pain to fountain pen,
Count I thy decrepit blessings —
Brain crying dearth,
heart...peopled by void,
soul acting out an enigma,
shadow wounds up to sleep —
Thou water not wet...
Their carousal is on a carousel ride —
Awaiting my high the next low tide...
Come thick with me and be my thin,
We shall die down, but hang in;
The sun liar mounts and rains my croon,
Spy not quicksand, we pink moon —
My, my, a thousand-spring-dead - I!
The balloon did spring not a leak; still
I'm suspiring time —
Mar 21, 2021
Mar 21, 2021 at 5:37 AM UTC