"lambasting" poems
In time you’ll recover and absolve
push those scorned impressions aside
hammer down the jaded edges
and sing
that delightful commoners song
the one you sang so well
in what seems a lifetime ago
You really had it you know
that fiery disposition and nimble cunning
those butter chords and derelict style
we could see it -- we could all see it
it was all it took to turn the evening tide
(and rile that buck fever)
heads bashing
tongues lambasting
middle fingers high
and raising Cain on those may fly statesmen
There were no rules
when it came to your survival
no textbook rally or common bond
no structured songbird or bravado stage
you either made it, or laid it
“life by the ***** Mr. Poppy would say
a kaleidoscope of dreams
with rich colored imagery
hardened artisan seams
in a carefully woven motif
But something got lost in the needle point
something sinister and distorted took hold
the quirks and street genius
that were your lifeline
gave way to grunts
and squeals
and chilling night crawlers
the colors faded quickly
to a cold confining grey
There was no grace in the new world
no retribution or switch back
no salvation or accorded finale
only edged platforms of blackened steel
that kept you cased
in a silent vanquished cell
shivering cold with fear
night without day
all in the shadow of death
But time heals all
and the polish sneakers
and open sores are long gone
(though the roman nose and shallow cleft remain)
indeed the falconer beat the widow maker
this go around
and I’m hopeful it won’t happen again
and if it does you’ll see me
standing hand on heart
with that old verse in hand:
he ain’t tainted
or silly,
and most certainly
not forgotten…
he ain’t loony
or fixed,
or a product of his self-doing…
he’s just a straight shootin’ guy,
who had the most of it
figured out
Jan 29, 2017
Jan 29, 2017 at 8:38 PM UTC
The bourgeoisie?
I loath them,
and I hope they buy my poems!
The critics?
They know nothing,
and I hope they hail my poems!
The intellectuals?
Dumber than pigeons,
and I hope they canonize my poems!
Unabashedly,
I'm not afraid to admit it:
I write for fame and riches,
and nothing really more.
Yes, yes, make no secret of it,
I wish only to shock you,
arouse and repulse you,
****** you,
with mindless,
gore-splattering violence,
and heart-throbbing ***
along on every page.
****** and ***** gore, and blood,
how else are my sales to flood?
It's art for arts' sake,
or something to the effect of that,
whatever makes me edgy,
socially relevant,
to scholars postmodern,
housewives bored,
and teenagers yearning,
to read ***** words.
So keep it then in mind,
my lovely readers you,
I very much like infamy,
and piles of money too;
be sure to buy my books,
praise me,
“Fresh and new!”
So that I may hire cooks,
to save time writing verse,
the very verses you adore,
lambasting the very rich and poor.
Rampant materialism,
spiritual decay,
what else do you
*******
want me to say?
A saint of the lowly,
the offbeat too,
voicing the obscure,
and the unheard and the
blah, blah, blah,
whatever it is,
I really don't care
quite honestly,
bluntly,
I'm being true,
I write for the fame
and the riches,
not you!
Mar 30, 2014
Mar 30, 2014 at 10:23 PM UTC
The best meal is the footsteps of the mind
And the rips in the skies
The lambasting birds in broadway binds
Not sweetened plum pies
The cellophane ramparts of a crystalline bastion
That holds the amazing, The Marmaduke
The taste of the air in seconds’ worth of fashion
Or the ascetic bees and loft-headed kooks
If you could touch nourishment with a brush
Would you fill the air with jubilee?
If you could fill yourself when the crowd is hushed
Would the minutiae meet the sea?
You’ll fasten yourself on the evergreen dew
And trod many miles with verbal leaps
You’ll break yourself even to stay somewhat true
And put forth a clown when cities stay steep
Your tentacles grow with freedom of abandon
And reflect on the mirror nailed to the dormant
Mind the stage closely, the one which you stand on
Or the remotely held moniker: “Thoughtful Abhorrent”
You’d be so lucky to forget where you live
To excite yourself with endless corners
To pay no heed to perception’s borders
Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 5:34 PM UTC
I came and then I came to
And all those things I said about you
About me
Maybe that's why I'm here
He thought, while the darkness around him swallowed him both physically and spiritually.
Tonight didn't end quite like I thought they would
Endings taking the form of sea men being shanghaied into the nearest boat
No alcohol this time
Just pure ambition, or the lack thereof
Writing is the only thing keeping me up
That and spiritual distress brought on by the royal we, man
[insert pop-culture reference]
Unsure if you'll read something that was truly meant or me
{
And the hypocrisy that I find when lambasting someone for using the Internet as their diary, when I do the same, but cleverly disguise it as poetry
}
This is block text with no form.
There is no rhyme scheme nor is there timing.
Dec 13, 2013
Dec 13, 2013 at 2:37 AM UTC
a word from thy mouth
is the spectral arrow
from nimble bow.
risen are the caryatids,
unsheathed are the swords,
molested are the gladiola
by the night's harsh *****
the proscenium dislimns
as the iron curtain sea drowns
their blasphemous orations!
the thespians alerted
by a wordless hunt
as i rise like the dew
lambasting the autumnal grass
bedecked by glistening wheals
of ripe luminosities;
this damp hour, the mercurial
assault of declarations,
fastens every word underneath
tongues of river-deep stone.
Sep 30, 2015
Sep 30, 2015 at 7:19 AM UTC
When I was teenager,
it was pens, papers and stamps,
two week of waiting,
to see if the mailman would deliver
those special letters from your
pen pals from around the world,
Nowadays it's Facebook, Instagram, whatapp
The Likes and dislikes,
disgraced and lambasting
Total strangers on the internet.
Whatever happened to the human race?
A
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 6:33 AM UTC
it charged at me, this muscled bull enraged--
its flaring nostrils snarling, snorting breath,
a steam--unleashed from some unnoticed cage,
and trampled hap-strewn bookbags to their death,
along the closest aisle 'tween students' desks,
while on its beeline path straight toward me,
she, by some scalding fury magic hexed,
transformed into this vile monstrosity,
with hands-turned-talons grabbing clump of hair,
my side-yanked skull and body followed suit,
i tilted right and toppled with my chair,
'pon impact with the floor i faced her boot,
hot breath screamed to my face and singed my eyes,
obscenities, growled expletive assaults
so pummeled ears while spittle mixed my cries,
lambasting accusations showed my faults,
for i had done some very taboo thing,
was loud or spoke some word unwittingly,
and so was hung to die upon a string,
while lashings of her rage whipped welts on me,
after my execution was complete,
she buried me, my grave a league so deep
in homework, i was crushed before her feet,
and made a slave for all the year to keep.
(C)2013, Christos Rigakos
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 3:28 AM UTC
I van a try to describe while sitting on me ****
how he oh bomb in lee rages with gnashing teeth
while back a slump
blasting Democratic nomination as a sham – man
from special interest pump
he, the epitomy of crass bloviation,
a malignant lump
whose rants sans presidential outcome a sham bull
with his millions beds this, that
and another woman to ******** jump
disseminating gene pool –
birthing more quackers and additionally doth ****
the mass media as some foolhardy charade
and caricature of a frazzled grump
this arboreal clothed ape erecting
Taj Mahal ******* symbols where players dump
and gamble away hard earn cash for his kitty,
as if that cachet to grind and bump
lambasting with that maniacal leering pout
while hair *** of red bulls
atop his bulbous aerosol sprayed
heady measly shaped Muppet
dis eased cranial hologram of a cretaceous,
facetious and insidious mump!
Nov 8, 2017
Nov 8, 2017 at 2:35 PM UTC
It was a sigh like no other
a respiration of desperation
a thousand times over
It was as if I could exhale
to exhume my own corpse
I'm in love with this word
only aimless expression
with a senseless,
seamless repetition
for it never disapproves
never uses the writer
as it was itself, used
I'm in love with the world
but only as a whole mess
of uncanny absence
As a strangled moment, leapt away,
exposed by obscure limelight,
I shall expire
Magnifying the reflective scarlet ocean
a marred, oily silverscreen eclipse
a piebald, shit-mired unicorn
curled at the feet of a ******
in a subfusc-glo™ hometown
crushed by rusted machinery
amongst rudimentary scenery
in a homespun anathema gown
in the broken household, wound
up men's eyes, went grey and dying
past every thought, incendiary
words lambasting paper
mayhap, I'm through
trapped, trying to
explain other
wise, now
Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 12:30 AM UTC
Adulterous besieging capstone damnation
exploitation foists groping, heaving
insidiously jerking
knowingly lunges
machinations notoriously nymphomaniacal
officiating ****** quests
rapaciously, sadistically
tenaciously, unstoppably
vasocongested wickedness
Xerses yawped zeolously.
***************************
All throughout history of man/woman kind
ascendent civilizations extensively gouged,
impailed, kindled, murderous outrages
quashing sacred urges, women yearned.
***************************
Versatile thematic refrain punctuating nubiles
maximized looting, pillaging, ******
visited upon females via decimating fountainhead
guarding brestworks of vestal virgins,
innocent youths (little boys and girls).
***************************
Twenty first century **** Sapiens male population continue to applaud, covet, extol, gloat, invoke, kickstart, ****** outrages, quest savagely thee unbridled wedded yoke appropriating coquettishly enshrined gals imposing killing mandates okaying queasy sordid ugly wretchedness yanking aborhent behavior denigrating, fulminating, harrassing, jawdropping lewdness, nabbing prized rearends, twerking, violently whiplashing, yelling zingers.
***************************
Now not a day elapses with instances women claim untoward advances, and/or forced coercion to satiate and temporarily slate the ****** thirst informing prononced picadilloes (philandering if married pompous head honcho demands appeasement of coitus, ******** indecent lowball outrageous ribald uncouth ****** animalistic, carnal, feral, gonadal, immoral, kleptomaniacally misogynistic, narcissistic, opportunistic, pathetically reprehensible, torturously undervaluing, validating virility within Yankee Doodle, haply lambasting, proudly touting, vaunted wayfair zest.
***************************
The above meandering stream of consciousness attempted to amplify, a recent spate of accusations figuratively slapped against a male *** mongers, who specifically rule roost, and blithely, demandingly, forcefully, hideously, impishly, killingly, malignantly, opprobriously, powerfully, repeatedly, terminally, vindictively, wantonly, yearningly acrimoniously belittle, demean flagrantly, harshly insinuate keeping mindful, not publicize rabid ****** unwanted villainous withering zeal!
Nov 21, 2017
Nov 21, 2017 at 7:51 PM UTC
Some writing on a wall
That's all
Nothing to see here so you can just move along
Paint on concrete, or maybe even laden bricks
A ghetto magnum opus sending a message to those walking along, familiar with spray paint cans clicks
Just another death here, nothing to see here keep it moving
So many young ones die in my city, despite the lambasting and berating of various communities.
Another life cut tragically short
It's just....
How many times must we hear that phrase before we shove it back down their throats?
Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 3:36 AM UTC
this Democratic Party affiliated member i.e.
considered (with an eye blink)
positing the following blurb
for a very short while
asper the "FAKE" trumpeting
oaf fish shill offal
continuous, indecorous,
and poisonous barbs doth re vile
me, an anonymous middle aged
concerned citizen at thee...reptile
no...no...that, would
unfairly debase creatures such as
snakes, lizards, turtles, or alligators,
whose aggressive acceptable modes,
one expects tubby non servile
thus in my mind hiss non diss incriminating
cruel, fiendish, gallingly jawboning
mawkish philistine (YES, I
MEAN YOU DONALD Quisling TRUMP)
figuratively roasting
respectable people analogous
to rake them over hot coals
then, burn them at the stake,
which witch trial characters assassination
with point blank expletives
found an introspective chap (yours truly)
responds to broadcast
unflattering sentiments,
albeit swiftly tailored harried, yup,
yar...obnoxious fulminations rile,
said brief explanation motive enough
(occurred within a split second)
after gleaning most recent denigrating,
hurtful, lambasting puerile
verbal and/ or twittering outbursts
(MOST DEFINITELY) unstatesmanlike
at least to me: a circumspect enlightened
genteel individual kind nattering
nabob of nativity, who feels alarmed
at venal wickedness by thee ->
President Trump spluttering, smoldering,
slandering gallimaufry
predicated predictable awfully banal,
cringeworthy diurnal,
and fiercely hurt locker ful invective bile
perhaps indicative of dementia praecox
or smother mental illness,
ye would immediately refute,
and be in din aisle.
Mar 4, 2018
Mar 4, 2018 at 11:59 PM UTC
I remember when and how you ****** me over
It was a long time ago
I’m still seething
Won’t let it go
Wish I could exact revenge
The Monte Cristo way
But I guess I’ll just do it in my mind
And in my own way
I know that I’ve done better than you in many ways
You’re fat now
Karma, some might say
Then there’s that so many consider you a boor
As to you, I’ve shut the door
Still, there you were and there was me
I was polite
I even shook your hand that suffers from carpal tunnel malady
But there was nothing else to say
What you did was long ago
What would I have gotten out of lambasting you?
Anyway, I keep inside the pain you caused me then
That I do not to anyone show
I don’t wish you well
Let’s leave it at that
You got me good a long while back
Still angry am I, but it’s under my hat
Jul 5, 2017
Jul 5, 2017 at 5:18 PM UTC