"laughingstock" poems
We tell people to embrace themselves
We tell people to be different
But when they are different we laugh at them
We make fun of them
Because that's what society has taught us to do
We tell people not to care what others think
We tell people not to worry about others
But obviously you should care about what we think
And obviously you should care about everything in others lives
Because that's what society has taught us to do
We tell people it doesn't matter if you're skinny
It doesn't matter if you're not pretty
But if you're not then what are you?
You're the laughingstock of society
Because that's what society has taught us to think
Oh wait where are you going?
Come back
Why did you cut yourself?
Why did you **** yourself?
Come back to society we would never hurt you
Apr 18, 2015
Apr 18, 2015 at 2:05 PM UTC
Wiggy doesn’t mean it is a wig
Just that it looks very like one;
And the hairdo is so ludicrous
That we can’t help making fun.
You act like an adolescent
Your orange hair is almost funny.
You utter the most inane things
Your disposition totally not sunny.
Wiggy little piggy, is what you are
As you ludicrously strut about.
You make yourself a laughingstock
From your hooves up to your snout.
You spout a bunch of garbage
High on the ignorance scale
Like you bought it all half price
At a dollar-store basement sale.
Snort and wiggle, grimace and scowl
It’s quite the side-show carnival show
You open your mouth and let fall out
Words that prove what you do not know.
Grunt and wallow in your own mud
Holler, howl, bellow and squeal
As if the lies you are telling us all
Amount to something valid and real.
Wiggy little piggy, is what you are
As you ludicrously strut about.
You make yourself a laughingstock
From your hooves up to your snout.
You spout a bunch of garbage
High on the ignorance scale
Like you bought it all half price
At a dollar-store basement sale.
So far, you are making yourself
Totally beloved in the Sainted South
But to most of us you would look
Better with an apple in your mouth.
You **** and moan and pontificate
And spout such bigoted wit
That the best place for you is
Guest of honor on a barbecue spit.
Wiggy little piggy, is what you are
As you ludicrously strut about.
You make yourself a laughingstock
From your hooves up to your snout.
You spout a bunch of garbage
High on the ignorance scale
Like you bought it all half price
At a dollar-store basement sale.
Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 8:28 PM UTC
~
<>
*nearby distant,
the soft thrash of warm waves
lapping interlocking,
happily wet tongue kissing,
sun-oven precision-crisping
the Long Island striped bass
and porgies, at a surreal cooling
77 degrees
Pandora synced to his eyes,
shuffling freely,
by saying
we too see!!
playing for him,
Stairway to Heaven (Led Zeppelin)
poor, poor poet,
strains to brain drain one more time,
conducting an ogling googling word search
for those combinatory storied ones that
sailboat glide
all the while
wildly bursting with Pellegrino effervescence
compromising sounds sights,
to present
properly the balance,
to preserve
properly this moment,
peaceful alive for all times,
as poet has tried,
and failed so many times before...
the caw caw caw of the crow mocks the illiterate human,
for the bird calls it, in single sound perfect and
the human a laughingstock,
for not in his possess,
to capture this perfect moment
of human sabbath.
a Roman Saturn day of rest,
on this day that itself,
is perfection,
perfect for celebrating our common creation,
on a day that our
almost-all-agreed-upon calendar
is marked for us to
forte rest,
from an existence of just laborious
the chubby checkered cheeked squirrels
laughingly pauses,
watching, enjoying a poet's struggle,
mind boggle,
the poet's chubby cheeks
stuffed with discarded words,
all insufficient to capture
the absolution of
absolute beauty
bathing in the noisiest of nature's sounds,
all that contravene the silence of living things,
breathing prayerful thoughts that all
summary end,
with a common gesture of
forefinger upon the lips
a human acknowledgment of
utter obeisance to the forces
calling out by example
listen, see!
silently presenting,
this,
this!!*
a day that demanded perfection
Jun 28, 2016
Jun 28, 2016 at 5:27 PM UTC
The "Church" of Scientology
Puzzle within enigma
People finding out the TRUTH
Now there is a stigma
There are many mysteries
Riddles within obfuscation
Their own ARC Triangle
Stops communication!
Are you following my track?
Or are you bemused?
Is their "nomenclature"
Making you confused?
Hope you brought your copy
Of DIANETICS here
You TOO can be OT
(or at least a Clear)
I won't try explaining it
Too complex, I fear
I'll talk about their OT III
Watch out, we're shifting gears...
When I was in the Sea Org
They spoke of this OT III
Did not discuss what it was
It was a mystery
It was said if it's revealed
You'd lose your sanity
But now I know! It's been disclosed
It's ALIEN HISTORY!
Here are all the thetans
Happy playing games
Enter alien Lord Xenu
He's bad! He's MEAN! He's LAME!
He gathered all these thetans
And brought them here to EARTH
On a DC3... They were
bound for all they're WORTH!
He stuffed them in VOLCANOES
Their lives to interrupt
When the cauldrons were filled
The stacks would then ERUPT!
This causes spirit problems
Well. I mean, hey, DUH!
I guess its caused some problems!
I guess it *would! HEY! HUH!
Folks, if you can **laugh at this
Just kick back your head!
This is God's honest TRUTH!
Every word I've SAID!**
THIS IS WHAT THEY FEAR!
THAT FOLKS WILL UP AND TALK.
I HOPE EVENTUALLY
EVERYONE WILL WALK
To leave Miscavige ALONE...
TO BE THE LAUGHINGSTOCK!!!*
Catherine E Jarvis
SoulSurvivor
(C) 2/24/2017
Feb 25, 2017
Feb 25, 2017 at 2:04 AM UTC
I wrote you a letter, oh was I ever the fool
To think that you'd want me: the geek at the pool
Maybe if I wore a v-neck like those dudes you like
Or if I wore those pleather pants and had a motorbike
But instead I'm wearing swim trunks that are sporting Spiderman
The kid one, not the knock-off of the movie from Japan
My complexion's pasty white, like I was locked away for years
And my aversion to the ocean's only heightened by my fears
Of public humiliation, but it seems I've got that down
Because no matter what I do, I'm the laughingstock of town
So when your letter got here, it came as no surprise
To read. **** you, Jason T. Go and dry your **** four eyes."
Sep 5, 2013
Sep 5, 2013 at 1:53 AM UTC
Mere mention of his name
makes me want to dump...
donald chump
Flush him down and flush again to keep him in the ground.
Ashamed to claim my citizenship be a
laughingstock like him
the tyranny keeps growing
the future's looking grim
won't even wear my Yankee cap and hide under the brim
the problem is it's
not just him but also
those that grant him power
they smell like shiza
and don't speak for me
so I decree they all need
a NiceAssZIppy shower
Aug 15, 2018
Aug 15, 2018 at 4:32 AM 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
The new 950-ton bridge would beat
down time dashing to classes cheat
ting vulnerability asper thick traffic
putting life at risk,
thus laudatory alternative
intending to offer Sweetwater
to last a lifetime would make fleet
(installed at Florida International University,
with eager pedestrians ready to greet
crossing grand opening,
where local dignitaries didst meet
viz Miami-Dade County
Saturday (March eleventh 2018)
witnessing ghastly collapsed
Thursday (March fifteenth 2018)
afternoon onto Southwest Eighth Street.
An unknown number
of fatalities surmised,
while several others
were hospitalized.
Prior to groundbreaking
with placement guised
of the attendant pomp
and circumstances exercised
setting cornerstone,
the projected
general estimation apprised
sans building costs totaled $14.2 million
and funded as part of a $19.4 million grant
from the US Department of Transportation.
The fact sheet boasted the sheer intensity
comparable to withstand strength of a
category 5 hurricane, and supposed to last
for more than 100 years.
Within the blink of an eye, no ifs ands,
nor abutments squared with ratiocination
earning civil engineers bragging rights,
which boastful, delightful, fanciful stead
fastness touted thwarting titanic tenable
taxing shock waves.
Now only a scattered pile (formerly comp
rising beams footings, and piers) of rein
forced concrete capped with a bent ele
ment defying hallelujahs, karaoke kudos,
and bobble headed nods,
now impish jinns keep leering, mocking,
and naysaying to fading echoing reverberations
leveled at the laughingstock of an architectural
(duff) feat. Further scrutiny will attempt to cap
chore structural weaknesses. Amidst snapped,
crackled, and popped strewn cables entwined girders
(whose premature destruction) will also warrant
any arresting tell tale signs of unusual stress.
Mar 16, 2018
Mar 16, 2018 at 6:06 PM UTC
We seek
To live the perfect life
And we choose not, therefore,
To believe God is gone;
Once upon a time
We searched for the answers
The fires took to sleep;
Atop the corpses
Countless roses grow
In a world where
Peace
Overcomes
War
In a world where
Bloodshed is common
Only in books
And security is found
In all homes
Harmony is the laughingstock
For the Devil himself
But sown to our coats is the desire
To live the perfect life
We seek
Jun 12, 2016
Jun 12, 2016 at 11:27 AM UTC