"lampoon" poems
.*oh forget Disney H'america... technicolor H'america was the bomb... gentlemen prefer blondes... oh **** no... the seven year itch... the Rachmaninoff scene... bell, book & candle scene... whoever the genius was behind the technicolor project, outmatched the Disney in 1950s H'america... little town America... big little ******** worth of Europe... eddi reader...more like: keep the cats, a woman may desire luxury, but a man a freedom... keep the town, the summit, the fireplace... keep your luxury... just give me the shadow, the sun, the moon, and the road: perpetually greeting me.*
oh forget looking
for scapegoats
these days...
full blown schizophrenia,
happening,
all over the anglophone
world...
me?
i'm just looking
at the lampoons...
sorry...
lemmings...
and the English?
top the table in western
world...
they thought they'd be
bailed out by
the H'americans...
good luck rolling
that pin-ball...
not gonna happen...
they have their own ****
to deal with...
it could have...
but now it will never
work out, no anglophone
alliance bail-out plan...
it's a ******* farce...
it's a bogus in the bogie
in the ******* coalmine...
forget the canary...
**** i'm seriously flipping
the coin on phrases...
FDR contra DJT?
magic!
no... the politicians were always
going to place the card...
the joker... free-fall dance-loose
feet...
my bet is...
it'll fall flat on its face...
the eastern European Achilles
heel of the europhiles...
that's a supposition,
not a proposition...
or thereby, pre-....
but i do love being a spectator
of rare sport...
en masse schizophrenia...
a nation, divided...
what a load of ********
the English thought that their
anglophone alliances would
last, would encrust them in
a new globalization mechanism...
even the ******* Icelandic people
think they're European...
what did the English think?
just east of Las Vegas?!
an island surrounded
by a massive prehistorical lake
"facility"?!
no one is looking for scapegoats
these days,
there's no one to blame...
mea culpa, mea culpa...
these days?!
everyone is looking for the lampoon
brigade!
- and let me tell you...
mea culpa mea culpa...
no one is looking for a scapegoat
worth kristallnacht;
people are looking
for a lampoon...
or...
karmesinrotherznacht,
the night of... broken hearts;
broken, crimson hearts.
Oct 22, 2018
Oct 22, 2018 at 6:54 PM UTC
a tongue with cheek lampoon
that shout Barca, save
Barcelona when blazing jack (of spades)
into the net with goal of The King's Cup
if Estelada retort his court
these embattled cries of democracy in Spain
why land ** as Mariano Rajoy
Nov 10, 2017
Nov 10, 2017 at 8:40 AM UTC
How to make nonsense out of bitter citrus fruits
Leave them be, already a font of nonsensical egg yolks
You do this for yourself, your own self, and no other self
Endure another fortnight daliance, you dance forthrightly
Absorb information like paranoia
The facts are lying in bed with an orange banana
How to make something lasting in a world cursed with impermanence
It cannot be done. It simply cannot be done.
The length of a breadbasket will often determine
the size of the loaf
The ratio of meat to potatoes makes nonsensical lemonade
The worst kind...worse than the worst
This document is not intended for distribution
during the lifetime of the author
Only with his passing disseminate expecting sympathy for
the old poet's story, how rarely it truly changes
The ingredients for the above mentioned nonsense
have been properly proportortioned and mixed per instruction
Take a wiff, you can smell the sweet aroma of their baking vapor
As a child I ate spoonfuls of baking powder
The aroma certainly saturates the proceedings
Almost intoxicating how it smacks your heart with nostalgia
The stupid cartoons, the National Lampoon stolen from the convenience store you hung out in
Out in, Out in, Out in, Out in, Out in, Out in, Out in, Out in, Out in
That, my friend, is the beginning from the end
That, my foe, is the bleedin' end of the road
I'm in Ian Curtis' voice, deadening repetion
Day in Day out, Day in Day out, Day in Day out, Day in Day out, Day in Day out
Ding, Ding, the timer in the kitchen chimes it's melancholy ring
The nonsense is at this present moment complete
Ready to serve, ready to eat
and please don't choke on my words, I'm half asleep
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 10:36 PM UTC
The dust plate plays havoc
its enough to unsound the light,
around the mountain top again.
Journeying south to balm the disappointment,
asked why and further marching down
the parade sees no end,
just a murmur.
A sigh left unsaid,
again stated it sounds different
as we echo to the Northern valleys,
where icicles lampoon our
uncovered heads.
Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 1:20 PM UTC
Sara L Russell, 17/5/14 00:29am
I speak, therefore I ****
Complacent in my seat of ancient learning,
I can and will
undo your fragile notions,
your vapid little dreams;
I'll pierce your ego with a word.
Your ego is absurd.
I sleep in blameless peace.
Reclining on my cloud of contemplation,
I can and do
lampoon your trite devotions,
tug on their fraying seams;
I'll take your confidence away
with everything I say.
You're weaker than I am,
Regurgitated clichés haunt your writing,
you know it's true
You wear the same emotions;
no common sense redeems
the foolish things you write
- till I slay them with spite.
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 7:38 PM UTC
Roses are red,
Communism is also red,
Crimson like the tide,
Prickly like a pear,
Salty like lakes in Utah,
Fair like a figure skating judge during the 1998 Winter Olympics
Communism is like a warm Winter's breeze,
Like an honest politician,
Like a benign amputation,
Like a decently priced cup of coffee,
Good in theory, but seldom attained
Goodnight moon,
Hello baboon,
Farewell ballon,
I am the bafoon,
Is it too soon,
to lampoon,
to swoon,
to cocoon?
Let us fly,
high in the sky,
with some guy,
and just say bye,
to the tired old eye,
of my.
O'SIGH
Mormons are people,
Sew r da Jews,
Wat Hath we rot?
Too Soon?
Whitman
Shelley
Keats
Poe
Dickinson
Angelou
Eminem
Those giants of yesteryear
Praise be to the deity,
Of the ethereal plane,
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 1:15 PM UTC
Boris likes to stroke his Mogg
Merkel loves a hot Macron
David Davis hates to Barnier
Keir Starmer gels with Garnier
May adores her slimy Gove
While Corbyn woos the Abbott
Liz Truss? Such angry sourpuss
Herself to champion loudly fuss
And Greening's not for leaning
Against the Brexit so opposed
Sajid wants a blimp of Trump
Which has given Donald the ****
Whilst in the gilt historic chair
We’ve a bent partisanal ******
Cash grabbing John the squeaker
Bercow! How in hell are you still Speaker?
Now when speaking of selfish greed
Travel. Duck houses. Second homes, and such
Let’s remember; as not to would be unfair
That glib arrogant war-monger; Blair
I’ve had enough of all of them
The Blunts. The Hunts. The useless…
Pieces of flotsam and jetsom
Don’t even start me on Leadsom!
©pofacedpoetry (Billy Reynard-Bowness 2018 – All rights reserved)
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 8:14 AM UTC
a tiny fire engulfs my brain
my innate superpowers
lost across the synapses
away from the lethal electricity
"embrace me, embrace my beat"
my heart dawdles forth to my rescue
not my physical self
but my tiny wishes
it can't see my veins sob
bright red blood
bright red cheeks
Is that what it wants
its esoteric enigma is a heartfelt fantasy
"be practical, are you in your right mind?"
what's right, what's wrong
I'm aloof
brain is my roof
and my heart is my window
through which i will escape
stealing my mind and soul
mock me lampoon me
my footsteps will answer you
santa awaits my wishlist
merry christmas.
Dec 24, 2014
Dec 24, 2014 at 2:03 AM UTC
Unfathomable as ever
dark ships lampoon
the sin that boughed
Dec 8, 2012
Dec 8, 2012 at 4:34 PM UTC
I searched the verses
fine lines did see
eloquent couplets
and allegory
Falling meter
Lament and line
(even a poem that was worse than mine!)
Well versed love poems
Lampoon and wit
Some that go on... and on... for a bit
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 2:13 PM UTC
When we met
You were yet
A Princess.
Snow melted
On your younge tongue.
Winter seasons
Kept the secrets
Of your cold cacoon.
When you emerged
It was obscene,
You morphed into
The Ice Queen.
The white expanse
Of glacial thighs
Led to an ice-cave.
******* that once
Snared and trapped,
Have melted like
Polar ice-caps.
Your icicle eys
Stay frozen
In summer sun.
And all about
Your condition
Smells stale as
Franklin's Expedition.
Like Midas,
Minus the gold,
All you touch
Turns cold.
I'm not here
To lampoon
How winter's blubber
Made you baloon;
But on a walk
In Arctic noon,
Wear whale grey
And get harpooned.
Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 9:32 AM UTC
This lamb now caged with lions;
Soon to ride with horses
Face my subjects,—
With an overwritten expression,
Cursed by ballyhoos of vultures.
What a lampoon to be drawn in humanity,—
As they pass to my sight,—
Praying for confession— For a blessing of a new fashion,
May the tomb be the veil of thy busts
Beating drums, I shalt not stagger.
On this stage,— I untied my cloth,
Withstand the shaken land,
I hear the wailing of the sand
Mary whines blood this end..
Her Son's sleigh sweeping me..
Thy queen shalt flood— her fabric traught's pile.
I knelt on the ground,—
People whimpered with no sound
—"Be tamed Black Stalwart, for thou
art forgiven."
To here falls the dillydoun's saw...
"The raging agony and weight of
strife,— May I beseech for Mercy!
God, save this ****** ghost!—
Never wilt I feel the land again...
Light, hoise me up,—when my face
sheds.."
'Whence the uproar sham this throne blown!'
(THUD)
May 10, 2020
May 10, 2020 at 2:26 AM UTC
Amidst the deafening silence looms a voice,
Heard not once, until - boom - a voice.
From where does it escape? I remain unsure
for it is not clear. I cannot assume the voice.
I begin to search, search for something more
yet I am still here, and only me it consumes (the voice).
Why am I the prey of this carnivorous beast?
My skin cannot camouflage! It is a lampoon, the voice.
I search and rummage and hear ticking tocks
and pay a visit to my wishes, they vacuum the voice.
I remember watching a steady steam rise,
And her dark hair would frizz and bloom... her voice.
At the end of an isle stand a man and a woman,
Their fingers intertwined, glued by the groom's voice ---
I feel a tingle on my face form Reality's swift slap;
"Natalie, I've been calling you." I swoon. His voice.
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 3:59 PM UTC
This simplest trick
this majesty of dropping a degree
or two
and changing water into happiness,
nostalgia,
frozen fingers, cheeks like beacons
mittens heavy with sodden, laughing weight,
your daily haunts
transformed
and yes, the brown sludge days
will come, as always,
but for now the National Lampoon
sledge run past Tumnus
and the boxed delights
can have our hearts and minds
Jan 26, 2021
Jan 26, 2021 at 2:43 AM UTC
Darwinism has much more
to do with phonetic encoding
than with theorising
an absence of theology
(with signs an absece of the
practice of 2 + 2 = 4), or
trying to depose god or Tsar
of Henry VIII prior to the bishop
the cardinal... the priest, a dog...
forget genesis or creativity,
remember dentistry...
in vacuum who's the happiest?
a dog... and by god's grace we're the
remnant of his existence, dodging dogs
in mirror not so chiral...
merely saliva... and by demand
i know how to berserker a revisionist
stand-off for a lampoon to say but one
ensured non-differential letter!
hence him less operatic than her,
with her ******** vowel ooh ooh ah
and his netting stability in Cumbria and
Shropshire and suburbia in general,
i.e. hula hoop... a sexuality of symbols,
to think any man might treat
vowels as feminine and consonants as male...
hmm!
Apr 30, 2016
Apr 30, 2016 at 8:16 PM UTC
It is right
It is right
'Only those
That stand under a tree
Know how ants bite!'
"Unless I saw things
Firsthand
Flaunting, I
Used not
Facts to understand!
In this regard
I often said off hand
'Concerning Covid-19
You could be off
Your guard
I do not agree
With a bizarre
Lockdown decree.'
Me if you ask
Why put not you
A face mask?
I will laugh
Behind your back.
While innumerable
Senior citizens die,
Well-nourished
Self-centered
Worried never I!
Investigative
Journalists I adored
To lampoon
'Cause I was born
In my mouth
With a silver spoon!.
'Yesterday I did note
The pandemic
Is screeching to a halt
No, no...
Excuses me I think
I have made a fault'
The angel of death
Me to hell's gate
Has brought!"
Though I lost in
WHO faith
It has wished me
To fast regain
My health!
Oct 2, 2020
Oct 2, 2020 at 2:55 PM UTC
()
( )
( )
/---\
all truth
•
in THIS morning
In THIS world
••
In a world CHILD
in which you really don't
EXIST AT ALL !
( censored !)
••
YOUR love ?
( just a cartoon !)
•
Your whole life is just a lampoon
Of befuddled buffoonery !
//
Still
WE
Go on !
/::/
Time to STAND TOGETHER
and proclaim
Your own RIGHTEOUS dignity
I am YOU
YOU Are ME !!
••
You BREAK YOURSELVES !!!
as you know
//
As your poetry proclaims
Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 12:37 PM UTC
I waltz into your mind
Pull your strings and make you sing along to the song that I choose
Make you flow to the rhythm and tune
From my iPod, you’re still rocking that Zune
Sway to the hurricane, the typhoon
I launch in like a harpoon
Lampoon you and spoon-feed you
Soon to be freed by my lyrical seeds
Watch them bloom and announce the doom of your premature tomb
I will bring you back to life
Open heart on the surgery table
I will skillfully wield the knife
Heal your tears and all your strife
Relieve your fears, show you the light
Where there was wrong I will make it right
So do not put up any fight
Just come along for the ride tonight
Aug 23, 2018
Aug 23, 2018 at 9:17 AM UTC
I love you
Like
A
Literary Critic likes
To lampoon
An author.
Oct 2, 2021
Oct 2, 2021 at 1:21 PM UTC
Sitting by the fire on Christmas Eve,
It's too cold for T-shirts so we wear warm sleeves,
The weather is cold, roofs turned to frost,
The air is crisp, keeping our feet toasty in socks,
Watching jolly movies, Elf, Home Alone, Jack Frost,
Letting out our inner child,
For some, it can be lost.
Puddings, cakes, and mince pies,
Turkeys to be cooked,
By the time Christmas comes around the whole house will be booked,
Rushing, buying, decorating,
This day will be off the hook.
Lights are seen from house to house,
Trees and stars on top,
Going downtown to purchase things,
Running round every shop,
Looking like a National Lampoon,
Christmas music on nonstop.
Dec 2, 2024
Dec 2, 2024 at 4:47 PM UTC
Mirror, Mirror in the Heavens!
A demeanour equable to viridity,
The nascence of a lamb.
The supposed handsel from the welkin!
Mirror, Mirror in the Heavens!
A swaying of a quixotic mind,
The dance from the societal crwth;
The derogation of the lamb via gibes.
Mirror, Mirror in the Heavens!
A continual lampoon –
The spawn of a chapfallen eagle.
The brainchild of a timorous creature.
Mirror, Mirror in the Heavens!
A diagnosis of a bird in incommunicado with flight;
A late palpation, albeit.
The societal routine…
Jun 30, 2020
Jun 30, 2020 at 1:39 PM UTC
6:30 am
time to hit fifty
before I hit the door
Wash away yesterday’s grind
Hoping today has more sunshine
Thrown on clothes darker than my mind
Hit the App that controls my income
Unemployment still ain’t come
So I move somebody’s lunch like a ransom
Even Ranch and Dim Sum
Cause bills ain’t immune
Morning, night and afternoon
Even when my life has gone National Lampoon
By 1:00 pm 45 miles til empty
Stretching the gas past E
I don’t need Jesus grabbing the wheel unless he putting ten on pump three
Turn the clock back before 3/16
Back before covid19
was the fiend
That has me addicted to this gig economy scene
6:00 pm refill
before the dinner rush
Helping Susie make the home like Im the one who cut off the crust
Disgust with my lack of opportunity piled higher
So I’m burning more woods than California wildfires
Since I’m constantly on the wire
Applying To be more despite the Ravens
Moving in Closer directed by Wes Craven
Scary combination for a brother just trying to get out with his family
11:00 pm taxi as a luxury to another essential needed for my daughter
Whose father fights his introductory
Instinct to be extinct maybe it’s depression,
“What do You think?”
I ask the Waffle House waitress
Whose facelifts to expel “ the bill
$19.86,” with straightness
No hiatus dropdown 30
With the hurry hoping for a better season
For us both Like curry
Too many Wiseman on my team
so my future is blurry
So the star I seek I see only week to week
How unfortunate but no time for grieve
It’s 4:00 am only two hours to relieve
Swiftly I snore, snooze the alarm button
The real horrorcore
May 20, 2024
May 20, 2024 at 8:27 PM UTC