"lackeys" poems
all aluminum alloy ammo
bane bat brakes badly basters back bones
come call cthulhu Cristo cuz
dead ********** dominate de download
even elven eternal endowments
fail frivolously flaming for fair fraudulence
grant good goggles give grandiose gratuity
how hella homeboys have how he has
If I ignore I implicate its implore
jack jacks jacks
kay killla kooks krack
LAPD locks la lackeys
maybe mom made mad monoxide
no, no natural nix NOx neutralizes
oh over overt opp only overlay orphic
please protest politely panic pretenses perpetuity
quiet quivers quiet queens
remember rage reaps reciprocity
so sour sits supplanters sat
to tell them to tare trail *** tat?
universal unhappiness underlays under us
victory validates victors vanity
why warble when winners wont waste worry wanting
x-axis x-rays Xerophagy Xanax Xanthorroea
you yodel yonder yet yahweh's yells Yarrish
zero zag zealots zoos
Jun 20, 2012
Jun 20, 2012 at 4:40 AM UTC
On winter nights beside the nursery fire
We read the fairy tale, while glowing coals
Builded its pictures. There before our eyes
We saw the vaulted hall of traceried stone
Uprear itself, the distant ceiling hung
With pendent stalactites like frozen vines;
And all along the walls at intervals,
Curled upwards into pillars, roses climbed,
And ramped and were confined, and clustered leaves
Divided where there peered a laughing face.
The foliage seemed to rustle in the wind,
A silent murmur, carved in still, gray stone.
High pointed windows pierced the southern wall
Whence proud escutcheons flung prismatic fires
To stain the tessellated marble floor
With pools of red, and quivering green, and blue;
And in the shade beyond the further door,
Its sober squares of black and white were hid
Beneath a restless, shuffling, wide-eyed mob
Of lackeys and retainers come to view
The Christening.
A sudden blare of trumpets, and the throng
About the entrance parted as the guests
Filed singly in with rare and precious gifts.
Our eager fancies noted all they brought,
The glorious, unattainable delights!
But always there was one unbidden guest
Who cursed the child and left it bitterness.
The fire falls asunder, all is changed,
I am no more a child, and what I see
Is not a fairy tale, but life, my life.
The gifts are there, the many pleasant things:
Health, wealth, long-settled friendships, with a name
Which honors all who bear it, and the power
Of making words obedient. This is much;
But overshadowing all is still the curse,
That never shall I be fulfilled by love!
Along the parching highroad of the world
No other soul shall bear mine company.
Always shall I be teased with semblances,
With cruel impostures, which I trust awhile
Then dash to pieces, as a careless boy
Flings a kaleidoscope, which shattering
Strews all the ground about with coloured shards.
So I behold my visions on the ground
No longer radiant, an ignoble heap
Of broken, dusty glass. And so, unlit,
Even by hope or faith, my dragging steps
Force me forever through the passing days.
3.8k
The curse of a great, well-known or (at least) culturally interesting family.
Heralded at birth to mimic similar (or even, surpassing) social feats of achievement/wealth/renown.
Instead manages to underpasses even mundane non-impressivenesses of second-generation parentals.
I
See them, smirk or folly with time, silently.
....which they seem to quite often.
Biding weekend with multitudes of varying categories of "friends"
and sweethearts who never seem to stick around too long
All aware, of course, of the famous family lineage
Themselves, instead
after lifetimes where first words, senior infants homework,
cheerful accusations of mischief and certificates of age-appropriate health
were lauded as signifiers of a future onslaught of fulfilled capabilities
emerge as providence's lackeys– and meekly, to be
Written out of History
One by One by One.
II
Talent is frequently a despairing life-cycle
for people who witness
and go without.
III
But what price success?
Is it to be counted in public
or left behind in wreaths?
Stern evidence
of favour, fought for and won
or shaky good fortune
One life's profitable fluke
IV
Does the cost of success itself
admit backstories of other kinds of loss
that children
without the chance of ever knowing
or changing their inheritances of fate
are powerless to cease the flow
of their own anonymity
all for the insistences of the unarguable
and for merely treading the average?
Aug 8, 2013
Aug 8, 2013 at 2:15 PM UTC
Would you rather the majestic pure white polar bear had a home in this world or that Paul Ryan took a slow, slow boat
to China & then turned around & came back, & then again,
& again?
... the humble Praying Mantis was able to bask in the sunshine
on a leaf of its choosing or that Trump was locked away for
70 years in a dank & dismal people's cell?
... all the bees, & all the dainty flying creatures could buzz here & there as was their want or that Mitch 'Gruesome' McConnell was marooned forever on a distant deserted isle?
... the startling life-form that is coral could take its own sweet time covering rocks & outcrops & undersea crags or that Mike Pence quite suddenly & terminally lost his ability to function in any way whatsoever?
... the soon-to-be starved nomadic people, the soon-to-be flooded
coastal peoples & the soon-to-be parched farmers of India were to be given direct financial & physical assistance by expropriated & toiling Masters of Industry & sundry media lackeys?
... that the delicate flowers, the tall & mighty trees, the vital green, green grass could just a go on going on, & anyone, anyone at all who ticked that box declaring Climate Change a hoax be pitilessly overseen constructing vital networks of deep, deep canals, oh for the remainder of their natural life?
... Would you rather one less Republican politician or one less soaring & majestic wind-tumbling vulture?
... Would you rather ...
Mar 28, 2017
Mar 28, 2017 at 6:54 PM UTC
Martin may have been
******* by the Trump,
no matter what words
he strings together
the other side
holds trumps,
& Martin's only human,
but the other side
seem of baser
matter,
fabricated out of
cast-offs & junkmetal,
empty gourds
of echoing nothingness,
aching voids,
fathomless chasms,
with truncheoned guardians,
subservient menials,
boot-licking lackeys,
fawning & scraping
Goebbel-like go-fers,
Trump might have ******* him
cos Martin is plumb
tuckered & its
only day 30,
but of course
Martin has the luxury
of not being from
South of the Border,
a very poor man,
a junked-up hillbilly man,
a desperate man.
Martin can give in
to his so-heavy fatigue,
that could be
his choice,
& he's lucky
that way.
******* I'm so tired
of this idiocy.
Feb 28, 2017
Feb 28, 2017 at 1:24 AM UTC
On the flight path down from Quebec
in the recent past, they say,
The lead goose saw a foursome
on the fairway, hard at play.
Their clothing was intriguing
Bright Argyles and Staid plaids
Little lackeys followed them,
carrying their bags.
The goose brigade lost interest
in proceeding South that day.
Instead they landed on the course
intent on watching play.
The lead Goose now spent all his time
At Bethpage, on the Black,
and honked golf commentary
to all his fledgling flock.
This lead Goose was the First,
brave Avian pioneer,
who broke the pattern going South-
instead he wintered here.
The Geese are protected by the law,
so we have no recourse.
We can't hunt down these honkers
who are greasing up the course.
Within one human lifetime-
a revolutionary change.
the geese have all stopped flying South
They're students of the game.
Jan 5, 2012
Jan 5, 2012 at 5:56 PM UTC
The president loves to carry on
About his gut and how it guides him.
How can anybody believe
A word of all of his nonsense besides him?
His gut encourages him to lie
And do it while he keeps a straight face.
It helps him create far-fetched stories
To dupe and galvanize his base.
His gut is great at seeking out
The shiftiest autocrats around,
So he can make America
His autocratic proving ground.
It's also very good at distracting
The country from what is REALLY going on--
At how to attract his servile lackeys
While he plays the role of the don.
It helps him to be great at knowing
How to pander to various groups
Such as evangelicals
Who kiss his you-know-what. Oops!
His gut tells him that scientists
Are full of baloney when they proclaim
That global warming is a threat
And humankind is largely to blame.
His gut says illegal voting
Is rampant. Doesn't he find it odd
That experts have found no proof at all
Of widespread voter fraud?
His gut says he hires the best people.
That makes him SO excited.
But how many have left their jobs?
How many have been indicted?
His gut said that he could pay money
To silence affairs and get away with it.
Did his gut let him know
Whether his wife would be okay with it?
His gut tells him that as the leader
He can do what he desires,
Which must include collusion, obstruction
Of justice, and calling dissenters liars.
Yes, I agree: gut feeling
Can be useful at times, BUT
Why can't the president
Start using reason and NOT his gut?
-by Bob B (11-30-18)
Nov 30, 2018
Nov 30, 2018 at 1:15 PM UTC
baby Kiba...
lyricked Buckethead's melodies
now his own sings!
midst moon's blue eyed mist,
prized offering ossuary praised
head marbles, must play!
hear marvels, most ploy!
grow low growl
full moon flow
how wolves howl
night B day,
best friend, mans', worst fiend
day B night,
tree top trick
lobo pup limbo
like gulp lick
bold lackeys KFC lad(d)ies blood
from goblet bucket form,
foul drinks, still eager!
fool drains, seton eased!
the Buckethead effect...
the dog, as his pet
a bucketbot!
Dec 15, 2024
Dec 15, 2024 at 1:24 PM UTC
Mother Nature is a nihilist sitting with friends
Around a poker table in the dew drop inn
Playing Nasty Canasta and the loser draws a limb
On a voodoo hangman, the cut of her kin
The high-wire committee say she’s way out of line
So they’ve sent in a crack-team of their most earnest faces
To blow 40 shades of blue, red and lime
From the very corridors our Mother paces
She croaks through the smoke “the first sons a novelty
The rest are just relics of muscles unclenched
Too smart for their own good and that doesn’t bother-me
But the reaper is hungry and hustling for rent”
Lackeys line the lawn, flunkies on fleek
To cover the crack of her chunky cheeks
“To stake lives may well seem immoral and bleak
But to play for cash prize seems horribly cheap
For a Lady of her esteem”
But the crowd spoke, she hung up the wardens trunchbull
Left the skeleton key within reach of the cells
“They’ve aired their opinions and I’ve had a cunt-full
Let the hungry ******** impeach themselves
I’m sitting this one out”
“And I’ll hide, while my dead snake wriggle persists,
On Elba with hairy pits, freckled wrists,
Openly practicing romanticists
And other hapless things that can’t exist
In these times”
Every second Sunday, the search resumes-led
By a dawn-chorus of confetti festooned-plebs
She can dance the devils limbo cos she’ll not be presumed-dead
While we’ve Holy Grail Package Holi-vows to renew-said
The green eyed usher on the door
The newsstand screams “Mother Nature was a fascist
Sher natural selection was the **** manifesto”
And they’re pedalling placebo to the shell-shocked masses
While the editor shoehorns a scotch into his amaretto
Yeah the world has been orphaned and the orphans smothered
But go easy on her sordid soul cos that’s our mother, after all
Jun 5, 2018
Jun 5, 2018 at 6:26 PM UTC
Oh, how the emperor loves his new clothes!
He loves the flash, the glitz, the show.
The presentation is all that matters--
The garish, ostentatious tableau.
His lackeys and sycophants grovel before him,
Currying favor and kissing his…arse.
Loving all the attention, he can't
Distinguish between substance and farce.
The emperor has the best people--
The best tailors, the best spinners--
Who say that the ruler's fancy new clothes
Can separate losers from winners.
Fawning subjects praise their leader.
Mesmerized by his tales,
The people fail to see the danger
When facts are ignored and fiction prevails.
Whether from pride, thirst for power,
Or ego, the emperor--walking on air--
Doesn't see that underneath
The pageantry there's nothing there.
Who can break the news to the emperor?
Who can put an end to the lies?
What will bring about true awareness?
What will it take to open his eyes?
- by Bob B (2-13-17)
Feb 13, 2017
Feb 13, 2017 at 11:23 AM UTC
It's over, its done ...
American Christianity stumbles forward
toward a cruel topsy-turvy world where
help is weakness, compassion is cruelty
& divisive isolation is preferable to
welcome & concern.
American Christianity is a corpse that reeks,
a veritable Walking Dead of pink-tied
Conservatism that picks its leaders
based on a sort of simple country-boy
belief that a fat white man in a suit who
holds aloft his momma's old bible while
same the same time preaching division,
exclusiveness, hate & bigotry is somehow
the best Christian choice & God loves that
man so,
they do this,
they continue to do this,
this rural fundamental upside-down way
of seeing the worst man as the best man
just because he spouts for some phrases
& gets all blessed & such by richly dressed
ministers of the lord who anoint him as the
Chosen One, which is so far off the mark
as to leave one wondering who? who?
who are these representatives of God's
word on earth,
these shiny shoe lackeys, these fork-tongued
well-heeled sybarites closer to Lucifer's
world of consumption & the almighty dollar,
American Christianity should just call it
a day, just give over for awhile, take a
breather & read a book or two, for the
harm they cause to fall on the rest of
us through their ignorant vision is just
way, way too much for them to be able
to claim any affinity with Jesus
the humble Son of God.
Mar 14, 2017
Mar 14, 2017 at 2:32 PM UTC
I dreamed last night
I was rich and famous
glowing with love
radiant with money;
I don’t know how I hit jackpot
but the riches and love sure hit me
and my lackeys
they gathered round
and after some reverence
and obeisance
(some revived from ancient customs
as befitting a man they deemed
heir to the riches of
China, India and Japan)
they all said:
*“Honorable Lord,
what shall we do
with your boundless fame
and your untold wealth? ”*
“Give my wealth, ”
I declared, *“to the 1%
cos Obama plans to tax them more
And give my fame
to the anonymous 99%
cos they obviously crave for attention
And I myself,"* I said,
“shall retire into Monastery Zen“
sure, wise guys, it was all but a dream;
and subsequently my wife woke me up
with the wham! of a broom
“Get up! ” she screamed
*“Go forth and get a job -
and stay away from those
lazy Occupy-This-City-and-that-City people! ”*
Feb 8, 2012
Feb 8, 2012 at 10:59 PM UTC
Lightning was never meant to be tamed
Moreso by mortals
Ask the foolish and the brave
Who died trying
She belongs to nature
Her mistress is great and terrible
Who swallows villages on a whim
And decimates cities with a gesture
The tides and hail are hers to command
The very ocean and the earth her lackeys
Lightning is appreciated from a distance
Keep a wide berth if you value your life
It strikes and immolates
With nary a warning
It is beautiful as it is deadly
But why then
Just why
Do I override my instincts
And walk closer and closer to you
Even as the brushfires
Creep closer
Inch by consuming inch
Nov 21, 2016
Nov 21, 2016 at 1:32 PM UTC
there's a monkey in my television
he doesn't speak well
but he sure talks good
hes a real politician
Mr Do Right
he much appreciates my support
while ******* in every room of the house
marking his territory
which is everywhere
and promising lavender horizons
with words like a luster of stumps
turning lives into vagrant shadows
freezing dreams like skin tags
he's **** high in **** and graft
having *** ******
an
American way of life
while he grandstands
riding a tricycle on the ceiling
all business like
a lazy worthless *******
with a slush fund
and no limit to what he will do
flanked with mullah lawyers and the clergy
minions lackeys and body guards
he sits terminal
upon a throne
like a jagged mouth
sure to be swallowed
struggling against the menacing whispers
of those do wrongs and the unborn
world soul disgruntled
a slave to being a tyrant
ready to **** all transgressors
of his vainglory
and a willing toilet mouth
to all above
gobbling and grateful
when they flush
the god of money ******
leading by example
and
serving with distinction
Jul 2, 2017
Jul 2, 2017 at 2:11 PM UTC
Carnivores in the cabinet
Theology through and through
Mothers can be so mysterious
Babies born into Barnum & Bailey's
Karate kicking you in the ****
Piercing through your pathetic *****
Dangerous days and dumbed-down digital
Filming from the foyer, frame by frame
Losing your lackeys
Can't find your car keys
Utmost ulterior and undulating oceans
Aliens acting antsy
Dogs doing down-beat digging
Anti-aging advertisements in America
Over our own oak trees
People picking in Peru
Sensing something sinister sliding silently south
Apr 26, 2016
Apr 26, 2016 at 4:37 PM UTC
Little Light Leaches past Lock tight Lids
Lampshades Laid over Living Lenses
Like pulled tight Laces Looped as Lattices
Letting Lingering Lies Loom
Late nights illuminated by Lunar Lampposts
Lighting a Landslide of Lopsided Lemons
Like those Littering Liberated Lands
Lacking any Lucid desire to Leave
Loose Lip type Lexicon Literates the Last Link Left
Leading to Literal Lemmings
A Legion of Like-minded Livestock
Leads to a Leap before you Look Livelihood
Lambasted but Lucrative
Due to Lavish Liberties that Life's were Laid down for
Lacerating all Links to Larger than Life Leaders
Becoming a Ludacris Laughingstock
Just Lowly Lackeys that got Lucky
Lambs in a Lions clothing Line
Ladened with Laminated Limitations
Rooting through and Looting the Leftovers
Lacking any Long-term Learned Lessons
I Lunge and Let go for the Last time
©2024
Jun 25, 2024
Jun 25, 2024 at 5:09 PM UTC
Devin Nunes and fellow Republicans
Certainly had their hands full
When they composed a controversial
Memo that was basically bull.
Nunes' cherry-picked assertions
Were assembled to malign
The FBI and also to lay
The groundwork for firing Rosenstein.
Trump was advised not to release
The memo but did it anyway,
Nervous because the Mueller probe
Is closing in day by day.
Before Trump had even seen
The Nunes memo, he avowed
He would release it, which in turn
Would do his Republican lackeys proud.
The Democrats have sent to Trump
Another memo for release--
One that rebuts the Devin Nunes'
Attack-memo, piece by piece.
But what? Trump won't release it?
All of a sudden we all learn
That national security
Is the president's major concern.
So Russian meddling in our elections
Is not a serious issue, and yet
A memo rebutting misinformation
Is a major security threat?
"Release the memo!" messages
Won't be sent out by Russian bots
To help you, Dems. They are waiting
For Nunes to write more devious plots.
The more Trump has tried to resist--
The more he's covered up facts and lied--
The more it seems so obvious
That there is something he's trying to hide.
-by Bob B (2-10-18)
Feb 10, 2018
Feb 10, 2018 at 12:38 PM UTC
Congress has numerous duties
With oversight being one.
The president's decided that
Such oversight he will shun.
In other words, he chooses to thumb
His nose at our Constitution.
His lackeys in Congress refuse to defy him,
Fearing his nasty retribution.
Refusing to cooperate with
The lawful demands of Congress, he
Thinks that he's above the law,
Which justifies an inquiry.
Occurring at the moment is
A constitutional crisis, which
The president craftily plans
To pull off without a hitch.
Defying subpoenas and trying to silence
Witnesses' testimonies,
He's rejecting checks and balances
With the help of some of his cronies.
The president seems to think
That certain people should be exempt
From testifying. But watch as they
All are cited for contempt.
Americans deserve to know
What is really happening here.
Trump's obstruction of justice and his
Abuse of power are something to fear.
What it boils down to is this:
It's Trump versus the truth. That's it!
If you dig deep, you will find
What motivates the hypocrite.
If his record were squeaky clean,
Hearings could be set aside.
However, his suspicious behavior
Keeps us wondering, "What's there to hide?"
-by Bob B (5-9-19)
May 9, 2019
May 9, 2019 at 11:16 AM UTC
(A song-monologue on the first
anniversary of an election)
"Pretend that you care
Even if you don't.
Say you'll come through,
Even if you won't.
Surround yourself
With lackeys who will kiss
Your billionaire ***
Or else they'd be remiss.
"Pretend that you
Are richer than you are.
Keep on doing
What's gotten you this far.
Seek out help
From those who can provide
Ways to gather
Assets you can hide.
"Pretend religion
Means a lot to you.
Keep admirers
In your field of view.
They'll forgive you,
Even when you're rude.
They won't see
That they are being *******
"Pretend your knowledge
Of history is vast.
Tell people your
Skills are unsurpassed.
If you remain
Stubborn and opaque,
Your fans will not
See that you're a fake.
"Pretend that your country--
Ever since your youth--
Has meant more than money,
Though that's not the truth.
Divisiveness
Works like a charm.
Lying won't
Do any harm.
"Pretend you're loyal.
Loyalty is grand--
At least until
Inquiries expand.
If your cronies
Ever cause a fuss,
You can throw them
Under the bus.
"Pretend that you
Are stronger than you feel.
Just keep on
Polishing your spiel.
Continue to threaten
To silence the news.
You as the leader
Can do as you choose.
"Pretend…
Just pretend…
Just pretend."
-by Bob B (11-8-17)
Nov 8, 2017
Nov 8, 2017 at 8:28 PM UTC
Breitabart was permitted entry of course, you know
'Expel All Muslims' Breitbart, & CNN NYT, & LAT were all
held back by some panting freshly-minted Republican staffer & had
to wait all shocked & chagrined at the closed door as one blank dead
eyed maniacally grinning young newly promoted Lieutenant Miller and
one bull-heavy Bannon strutted like obscene vulture marionettes in their favourite special-wear searingly shiny knee-high Wehrmacht boots which had just been licked mirror clean & furiously polished with their very sweat by a heaving gaggle of simpering craven Republican lackeys who had come comically dancing & prancing when summoned from the floor of the so-called People's House with a "yes sir, no sir ... what can I do next sir" to grease the skids on the Fascist Express with the their very blood & the tears of the innocents gathered so fresh that very dawn with no stops till the sun rises on your New World.
.... oh yes indeed.
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 11:48 PM UTC
I have no words, words that could change…
How life works for us or mistakes that we make…
We don’t really fit, in everyday human life,
We are but people, standing by the road signs.
We have no clear path or a destination to reach,
We try our hardest, just to get some kind of appeal.
The lackeys, the misfits, the weird looking ones,
The special, the crazy, the one’s that always give up:
We won’t stop loving, moving ahead,
We can’t change anything, but we will try our best.
We won’t always be happy, but we know how to cheer,
For all of the misfits, that we find out there.
Oct 26, 2017
Oct 26, 2017 at 5:42 PM UTC
An emptiness sits
Between us
A heavy handed silence
Commands the space
With a tyrant's fist
Lackeys for its whim
We await instructions
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 5:12 PM UTC
Large mirrors, lackeys,
and harpist players in silk --
The hearth-fire crackles.
Jan 27, 2022
Jan 27, 2022 at 2:52 AM UTC
Love takes on all forms,
It may be of pain or of pleasure.
But what really is True Love?
We can never be so sure.
Sometimes love is kind,
It will make your heart flutter.
Sometime love is of hate,
It is to improve you, get better.
Sometimes love is acceptance,
Take the flaws as you go on.
But sometimes love is rejection,
Do not tolerate their wrong actions.
But do you know Twisted Love?
A melody sung by many?
It is as bad as it sounds,
So toxic, so eerie.
It is when you utter a phrase,
In an argument, in a conflict.
It is when you lose logic,
Ending up having a clouded verdict.
It is the unfair use of feelings,
Turning humans into lackeys.
Do you know what that phrase is?
“If you really love me.”
May 23, 2018
May 23, 2018 at 10:53 AM UTC
Finally, you did it, Congress!
WHAT took you so long?
For almost three years you've dealt with a man
Who doesn't know right from wrong.
Lying to us and abusing his power
Since day number one,
The man has wreaked inordinate damage.
Can it be undone?
Asking a foreign power for help
To win the next election
Shows how his impropriety
Is carried out to perfection.
Of course he'll scream, "Witch hunt! Witch hunt!"
That's his usual ploy.
He'll play the martyr to his fans
And be the whipping boy.
His team's composed of so many lackeys
Nearly as base as he
Who are willing to lie to protect him
To the nth degree.
Some people were slow to come
On board the impeachment train.
Now the momentum ought to be
Easy to sustain.
Will Trump receive support from his toadies
In Congress? You bet he will.
Although they’ve drunk the Kool-Aid, they
Haven’t had their fill.
There are members of Congress who
Never will condemn
Trump’s devious behavior! Well,
Shame on all of them!
Hop on board the train when it
Reaches the nearest station.
It’s for the sake of all of us that
It reach its destination!
-by Bob B (9-26-19)
Sep 26, 2019
Sep 26, 2019 at 8:18 AM UTC