"libel" poems
*I woke up this morning and my name flashed on T.V.
They said i blew up places , they said i killed masses .
Men , women & children I murdered them all.
Who am I ?
I am a muslim and i am taking this fall.
They used my name and spread the terror.
I am not them , it surely is an error.
We, muslims, are the holders of peace , we spread love.
Why am I being represented by their false actions.
I am a person, with different notions.
World will now brand me a terrorist.
Don't judge me by their actions , I insist.
I am not them, they pilfered my name.
They inflicted libel , and my religion to defame .
I have been robbed , robbed of my name.
I am a muslim , human like you , all the same.
My name has been robbed , my identity stolen
I deprecate the terror and mourn for fallen.
There are millions like me and humanity lies in our depths.
But we are all victims of Identity Theft* ...............
Nov 15, 2015
Nov 15, 2015 at 12:20 AM UTC
**Hey Ranger Rick why don't you add this
one to the YipYap collection too**
You literally unblocked me
so you could add my nonpoem ''really part
3'' to your collection and
then blocked me again...?
Furthermore you say we're the bitter ones...
you're the one that keeps unblocking me
so you can comment on my poems
then blocking me back. Uh, stalking...? much
Didn't I tell you to stay off my page! ?
**Stalker: unwanted or obsessive attention by an individual or group toward another person. Stalking behaviors are related to harassment and intimidation and may include following the victim in person or >monitoring them.<
Cyber-Stalking: Cyberstalking is the use of the Internet or other electronic means to stalk or harass an individual, a group, or an organization. It may include >false accusations,< defamation, slander and libel. It may also include >monitoring, identity theft,<threats, vandalism & solicitation.**
.........................Ranger Rick Your are a Stalker, point blank.
Jan 8, 2016
Jan 8, 2016 at 1:41 PM UTC
Un-Scrupulous Malaise, must you too bleed
Then savour the Sauce which makes your Thoughts sink?
I could bill you for Libel; Or if need
To saddle the Horse called Radar-Stone-Pink
Her Name makes no sense; And purposely so
More than the Watch to her Father she gave
My Thought's own Mystery comes with a blow
That such single comfort would make me brave
Give to Mind Mind's Self; If it does exist
As one Mahatma told me through and through
Placate this Red Farm; Be strong to resist
Your stubborn Barn from which the Wind it blew.
Life would be feathery if you just dance
To this Musical but Simple Romance.
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 4:52 AM UTC
This spiteful poem has no title.
That doesn't mean it's not entitled to a title
it just means, it hasn't got one.
It's not in any way vital to title
a poem is it?
Without a title, would a rival thieve
the poem?
Without a title, it means there is no
subject matter. Does that matter?
I guess at a recital a title helps,
it introduces the poem to an audience.
Let's face it, the poem is not going to get
suicidal if I don't give it a title!
It's not going to go all homicidal, suicidal,
or self harm.
Will it sue me for libel?
Am I being frightful?
I think it's delightful that this poem
has no title.
Maybe, what I should have titled this poem, was
"Poet being idle".
May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 4:33 PM UTC
Right now, it's unclear
how to feel about this latest development
between us
because
at any moment you're libel
to switch gears in your speedster train of thought
on to new electric spark tracks
of ecstatic playtime poetry frivolity
or serene raindrop contemplation
and, while the exciting allure of spontaneity isn't lost on me,
it can be a bit confusing
in terms of how one should express themselves around you
and how much of your baggage they're willing to cary
in addition to their own on any given day.
I'm not mad at you,
just confused and worn out.
But I suppose it's hard to find solid ground
on digital windows and words.
Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 10:45 AM UTC
Acquiring the libel of critics
Internally at times I bleat
And snarl, brow furrowed
Like an actress when filming a major motion *****
“Originality bid us farewell” screams my advanced intellect
Nothing more than a social outcast who lacks a catalyst
(though thankfully the universe is an object of open ended philosophy)
The voices of such a generation fail to carry notes
Beyond the octave range
Only Canis lupus familiaris feces, in its rejuvenated appearance,
Delivers abstract imagery
What was once honorable has dissolved into media sewage
Virginal darlings now dissolved into marionettes
Shall my poems alienate the public
They shall at least demonstrate bravery
Sep 7, 2012
Sep 7, 2012 at 10:53 PM UTC
I keep fondling dreams as I
flip through FOX, CNN and MSNBC networks.
An electric lady land fantasy
of revolutions where over and over and
under and through inconsistent gibberish of
conservative conversationalists’ and
liberal libel is taken for truth.
My heart is pumping out toxic fiber optic
editorial journalistic pollution like kidneys
secrete the habit of alcohol and
cigarette poisons.
Our dependence on government help is
broken glass shards ruining the
veins of society
while Limbaugh, and spring chicken heads with a
View are enslaving our voices and
limiting the truth of our choices using
eminent domain for our minds as they spit out
their opinions through television and radio
frequencies into our brain waves as truth.
How some American hearts stay warm with
nightly news schisms, burning intolerance,
unreal realism, religious sincerity posed
and limp **** ****** commercials
is amazing. But still a paradox hoax.
May 24, 2010
May 24, 2010 at 3:15 AM UTC
I’m a just right, out of sight, lily-white,
Never coy, ball of joy, good old boy,
So great it keeps me up at night,
Clever son of all the tricks I employ.
A world-beating, caucus leading,
Really big deal, big wheel big shot,
Clean outside, mean on the inside
Super savvy, super cool, super hot.
I’m the guy you want to toast
I’m the tops, I’m where it’s at
Some are good, but I’m the most.
I’m a sainted southern aristocrat.
It’s not good to get on my bad side.
I’m a fearless, remorseless go-getter.
I’m right, you’re wrong, if there’s a fight,
Yeah, you may be good, but I’m better.
I’m a cut above, you’ve just got to love
A gift from God sent from high above.
A card-carrying good guy to the letter,
A credit to my entire race, nobody better.
Whether in the news or word of mouth,
A quality beacon of the Sainted South.
I’m the guy you want to toast
I’m the tops, I’m where it’s at
Some are good, but I’m the most.
I’m a sainted southern aristocrat.
It’s not good to get on my bad side.
I’m a fearless, remorseless go-getter.
I’m right, you’re wrong, if there’s a fight,
Yeah, you may be good, but I’m better.
So, go away with your stupid picketing;
We knew how to run things way back when
We have God on our side, so just back off.
Old ways are the best way, again and again.
Your talk about equality and nigras rights
May sound good, but it’s all just libel.
We are the chosen children of our God
And you can find that in The Holy Bible.
I’m a cut above, you’ve just got to love
A gift from God sent from high above.
A card-carrying good guy to the letter,
A credit to my entire race, nobody better.
Whether in the papers or word of mouth,
I’m a quality representative of The South.
Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 7:02 PM UTC
Naturist, skinny dipper
But never ****** waver;
Some of us are exhibitionists
A point I hope you savor.
I am into keeping clothing
Something more than minimal
But, I should not ever be
Thought of as a criminal.
After all, the same people
Who piously point to their Bible
Ignore that we are born ****
And every other word is libel.
It simply makes no sense
To impose laws on a poor sod
And then paint yourself with
Trappings of some ancient god.
I don’t take my clothes off
To discomfit you even a little
But your frothings-at-the-mouth
I regard as simply spittle.
I have never agreed with your
Mesopotamian mythology,
And I disagree with it all,
With no remorse or apology.
But bear this in mind, please
I resent you pushing on to me
A way of living that I feel
Is very uncomfortable to be.
I don’t ask you to be naked
If that is not right for you
But to tell me I must not
Is an offensive thing to do.
The idea that a tiniest bit
Of what is so honestly me
Is such a horrendous and
Disgusting thing for you to see
In a world of thongs and bikinis
And pushup padded wonder bras
Is a matter of gross hypocrisy
And to me, an ignoble cause.
Mar 7, 2016
Mar 7, 2016 at 10:07 PM UTC
Carla said we must talk about love.
If it doesn’t define, it doesn’t exist, she said,
And pulled the two nearest stools away from the bar.
Has anyone you have ever known- anyone-
Ever offered you even a pitiful explanation
Of this bewildering word
She asked me,
In that way she has
Of not asking me at all.
She lit her pipe,
Her first exhale a ceremonial cloud,
A white tobacco fog,
A linger that purchased my childhood memories,
The pungency of three fingers of scotch, neat, at dawn,
The south face picture window ablaze with
The painful flood of an early sun,
A tin can stereo in full lament about cowboy love
And the inevitability of betrayal,
My father off key,
All his memories a libel and a calumny.
If I say I lust for you, you know what I mean, Carla said,
If I question your loyalty there is no obfuscation,
If I tell you in my sleepy voice the wine is delicious,
You are tempted to sample,
But if a man tells a woman he loves her
What conclusions will she abide,
Carla asked me with a stare.
Do you even know anyone who can utter the words I love you,
Without feelings of hysteria, near mental collapse,
Or worse-farce, she asked.
We tell people we love them to calm them,
To manipulate them,
To play magic tricks on them, Carla said,
Love is an adolescent stage,
A toxic teenage mix and of oestrogen and testosterone,
Romeo and Juliet were children for ***** sakes, Carla said,
As she drank half of her breakfast scotch,
And began to blow perfect smoke rings
In the mirror still stale air
Of the Rock Hen all day, all night, all the time bar.
I just know I love my dog, I replied,
And I held my finger up,
To see if Carla could circle it perfectly with a smoke ring,
Which she did.
And I don’t even know why, I said,
I guess I love how he needs me and doesn’t resent it,
Even as I disappoint him and neglect him,
Forget to feed him, force him to *** in the rain,
He still wags his appreciation with gusto.
Perhaps we can only love our dogs,
Carla replied,
Or perhaps we should all have tails,
And she ordered us lemonade and tequila
With scrambled eggs, french toast and a *** of blueberries.
Jul 5, 2016
Jul 5, 2016 at 11:27 PM UTC
Love - don't get me started
You might as well quit now
For it's a one-way trip
A banana-skin slip
All the way from perfect pleasure,
A new-found treasure,
To divorce-court perjury.
Open-heart surgery,
From libido to libel
All the hate in the Bible
First you're lost in her eyes
Then you learn to despise
It might take a few years
And take all your tears...
But Love - looking back..
Yes, it was worth it
Happy now?
Christ I deserve it
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 10:07 PM UTC
It’s becoming clear
Old fashioned romance is dead
I want an LTR
But they want to hook-up instead.
I want long term dating
Not short-term flings,
I want tight and secure
Not something no-strings.
At my age I never considered
Meeting someone for a hook-up
This is a crazy situation
I just couldn’t cook up.
This casual dating I find
Is just making me frantic,
Somehow it doesn’t jive
With an old-school romantic.
For a writer
It’s like committing libel
To a true believer
Like speed-reading the Bible.
Now I sit here wondering
Should I accept the latest fashion,
And let them satisfy
Their hot-blooded passion?
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 4:40 PM UTC
A night's a light
Who valour,conquers
Piffles from haters,
Who libel your
Life to slay your
Dreams onto shreds.
In this rough road we walking
Through,full of thorns,
Nemesis waiting in line
Like sheeps in the midst
Of wolves.
We African dreams,ascend
Alike the sun in morning of Kruger's
Nation from dawn of
South Safari.
Bricks build buildings to climb,
For our dreams as we crawl half
Onto top of the tower on snail pace,
We not holding behind,only carrying
Scriptures to heaven.they call us
Failurers,we call ourselves the Children of
God bound by faith,living
The light of Almighty
Father.
Success of Failurer,The walking
Through of the toughest.
Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 3:05 AM UTC
Wouldn't wanna Write this Witty
But the ice of sorrow that runs through my spine brought me this
Mourning a Lad of high dignity
Who his demise would never let our heart rest in Peace
We got to meet like a Demon meets a Monster
Journey of fate brought us together
Our introduction, sweet like a Pasta
He was struggling with the pains of the throat that hurts deeper
Phoenix was a Rapper that murders millions
His punch lines like the roar of the Lions
Loving human with the smiles of the gods
His character cuts the joy through many minds like swords
I would never forget un-made Lawyer
who walks like a dancing Momma
Soul of an Angel
A gem on whom U'll never commit Libel
As virtues men they say partly go
And whisper to their Soul to go
So did you fly pass us like the moving spears
So sad, really made our emotion shed tears
No mouth wholly can say about your exit
Because every word would render the reason for you to stay a Legit
You are not yet a Metushella
Nor the greatest man that has ever lived in the quarter
You were ripped off like a broken egg
The bitterness of your departure in our heart a peg
Never the last in taekwando
A Black-belter the world would ever know
Run faster, not faster than the heaven's gate
Eat Bro, not further than your ancestors ate
The Earth would have preferred you stayed so late
But the fellow Angels that awaits you would definitely hate
Ocean of tears from the girth of our eyes can't wash off this thunderous pains
No sound, not even the roar of dynamite can overcome this silent nights
But can our might bring you back out here again?
So we accept the grace to dine with the FATE
We certainly lost the chance of holding hands with you on the high-ways
Nor the pleasure of sharing a Goodbye on the parting-ways
Forever gone are the moments of pillow dialogue days
So into the air we share our blessing till our meeting days
Eat not the pedes
Nor the worm that crawls at the Heaven bay
But dine with the dead-and-gone Legends of ages
Rest in the ***** of most High till the judgement day
Jul 11, 2013
Jul 11, 2013 at 1:21 AM UTC
Eliminate the grass roots-
Organize a hoard of guys
Abhorrent lies and black boots
Coordinate the insubordinate
Get on the floor and sit until
I fuckin' tell you to move
We're just walkin' on the borders of our own chalk outlines
Fear adhered to talkin' televisions are your confines
It doesn't even matter if we lie or if we tell the truth,
Remember Harvey Oswald and that cat John Wilkes Booth?
We maintain the power over every single hour of your life,
So smell the flowers while you can and try to find yourself a pretty wife.
We're just walkin' on the borders of our own chalk outlines
Fear adhered to talkin' televisions are your confines
Don't forget your Bible boy
Don't you print that libel boy
We'll sue your ****** *** until
You're livin' like a tribal boy
Sep 17, 2012
Sep 17, 2012 at 8:53 PM UTC
Your reader quakes like a ready reactor
Steady burn an incalculable factor
On your mark, we approach the next chapter
A quiet pen, without ambition
Keeps each plan from happy fruition
And pressure mounts, some new type of fission
Carve yourself out a space in time
Mark it well so it’s easy to find
History don’t repeat, but rhymes:
Solicitudes concede to style
Somebody just filed suit for libel
One more murmur to add to the pile
To be a made man is to be man-made
And so you dull your colors down a shade
The arsonists took over the fire brigade
Step outside of your burning home
Pavement stand, dial your phone
Ask whomever if We are Rome
The receiver will no doubt laugh a little
That is, if she caught the preceding riddle
Somewhere Nero bows the fiddle
Tell me something, if you please
About the world pregnant virgins see
Oblivious to a state emergency
A noble fourth, our D’Artangan
Has the sharpened instinct of a jealous man
Oh, you know him? And you’re a fan?
He’s wants a girl who drinks whisky and gin
Musket holstered, what a sin
Somebody asks, “What shape’s he in?”
One assumes he’s kind of tame
A lion, yes, but with a shampooed mane
He don’t play ***** but he plays the game
Shoes on, button up, wipe your glasses
Time to shake up contented masses
Donde hay educación, no hay distinción de clases
Mar 23, 2010
Mar 23, 2010 at 4:34 PM UTC
Honesty: that elusive trait that is the key to a great society.
The boss says he'll give you your share, he hoards your labor for himself.
Congressman says he'll make the boss give you your share, his pockets get stuffed; blames the boss.
Give the underpaid money for food, and they'll just spend it on *****
Don't trust the powerful or their competing victims; either gnashing or selfishly escaping from it all.
Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 9:03 AM UTC
I had a chat to someone today who really went about it the wrong way. I dont think it very sane or fair to give a credit where the act lay bare.
I am someone whose opinion I think highly of,
and rest assured, I am interested in what I think of.
but to call a ***** a ***** and dig a hole with it for yourself
is not a wise thing to do.
though the wise have been thought crazy and the crazy wise
the fool is the fool in any position naive or wise because a what a fool believes
the wise always questions what he sees.
a fair and valid comment is not cause for defamation,
defamation though has cause and stains by association
and I will suffer none of it
because I just couldn't give a ****
think of it what you think of it.
Making of false, derogatory statement(s) in private or public about a person's business practices, character, financial status, morals, or reputation. Oral defamation is a slander whereas printed or published defamation is a libel. The plaintiff must prove that the defamation was communicated to someone other than him or her. And, if the statement is not obviously defamatory, it must be shown that it carries a defamatory meaning (see innuendo) and that reasonable people would think that it refers to the plaintiff. In case of unintentional defamation, the defendant may mitigate damages or escape liability by offering an apology. Defamation with malicious intent (see malice) invalidates the defense of fair comment and qualified privilege. Defamation that imputes a criminal offense punishable with imprisonment, is usually a sufficient ground for a court action even in the absence of a proof of special damages. Under the UK law, defamation damages are assessed by a jury and not a judge.
Read more: http://www.businessdictionary.com/definition/defamation.html#ixzz2tg2X8Lya
Feb 18, 2014
Feb 18, 2014 at 7:48 AM UTC
her father scraped his way across
the wooden floor
hauling his dead weight of rages
and cursing the libel that landed him here
he paused labouring his breath
like a dying steamtrain running on empty
and shuffled on when his labours ceased
his furry coat knotted with the tangles of his mind
she followed him carrying his bowl
of shapeless meats and shifting rices
a cold meal for his hard hands
and as he sat down to break that bread
he commenced to wailing at the rising of the sun
and the falling of the stars
spitting around mouthfuls he catalogued the woes
as she waited there by the shoulder of his
heavy mule skin jacket
with her eyes nailed to the floor
later while he slept
out back by the rain barrel
she and i did romance in quiet whispered tones
she in her best blue dress
me in my finest spanish leathers
we talked and held hands while the stars gave condolences
we kissed like two virgins tentative and shy
she with her golden hair and fancy lace
me with my dark eyes and mystic words
as dawn came she slipped away
with murmurs of regrets like soft kisses
each one so close to the last they came together as a single tear
and let slip of my hand like a farewell
as inside we could hear her father climbing
up out of his pale slumbers
like the driver of deaths carriage whipping
the grey horse's of doom
drive on drive on you fools lest you be found lacking
we each bid her father good morning
and his return was cheerful delights
as he saddled his ponderous thoughts on his mare
and set off to the seaside
in search of his galleons wreck
spend his day picking coins from the sand
and choking back tears for his labours
she will sit with me in the palms shades
and swing me a sweet song
with a melody like rain
and lyrics about the sun
we are a strange sight to see i'm sure
but the only vision we have is of eachother
and its a warm palace full of joys
among the towers and fabled roads of fiveashes
(the part of her father was played by our cat 'lizard')
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 4:48 AM UTC
If there was a chance that a sliver of hope in humanity
still looms within your hallow chest;
still waves a portion of your resplendent soul like how the Hunyak calls for innocence undeclared;
still looks at the moon embraced by calcium coated rods, wishing it to quench its thirst
Will you let it revel in its over-zealousness?
If not, can you explain to me why,
why have you disowned your responsibilities to mankind despite it, like velcro, wailed when you tore it from your skin?
On the matter of the justice deprived, what say you?
Does it serve a lesser purpose than frolicking on streets, crimson bathed?
Has Billy shown you the razzle-dazzle of murderer's row?
As Legends wreak havoc with twin brigands,
slander who took a page from libel and read out loud —with a projected voice echoing throughout the ages— erroneous eyewitness accounts
and rancor who is bisexual to atrocity and entropy and seemingly engulfs himself in them,
you sat pretentious on your wheelchair
Over looking war from a peephole in a filthy blue washroom
The bombs that we drop are no longer metaphors to modern ears
Neither do sacred extremes keep their insatiable thirst for ruptured streets a thing of faded memory
Attacks on clergymen are no longer a painting born from a misinterpreted dream...
And you, no longer can you regain your innocence for you have witnessed the dilation of dense war, pulling and ******* every ray of light from hope that it sees
Yet you did nothing.
If there is still a speck of humanity in the mind of a mechanical automaton like you,
Will you let it rip apart steel skin and touch the lives of those like you?
Will you let it carve a symbol on your forehead, to let people know you are to save the dying hope in humanity
Or will you let it bid farewell to fair weather forevermore?
Or even more so, will you let it brand you so that every time you hear its call for justice inside you, you cry an ocean of dissatisfaction?
In the matter of a dishevelled world, what say you?
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 1:08 AM UTC
music notes
on a musician’s
libel
hunter’s bow
on a hunter’s
clothes
***** shoes
on a *****
man
a chair’s legs
on a god’s
body
a pope’s declaration
on a blasphemer’s
cry
an english ship
on a world’s
sea
a child’s book
on a child’s
desk
a belonging to,
and reflection of,
thyself
Jan 22, 2011
Jan 22, 2011 at 8:57 AM UTC
*Pulled into a dark catastrophe,
Thinking as a child that how beautiful is this world,
And now growing up to see terrorism so common,
Suicide bombers run in our land,
Hide in places where no one can find them,
They **** and slaughter, heartless and more often,
Poignant is the pain scarred in people's hearts,
Already losing people close to you is so hurtful-
That it had to be for these brutes and their plans, that take away more people closer to you,
Barbarity and atrocity runs in their veins-
As they scatter the world with explosive belts,
And holding MP5's and AK-47's like they're nothing but toys,
Blood seems to accumulate the emotions in their hearts,
Which is why their souls are disturbed and cold,
Terrorizing innocent spirits and shedding blood here and there,
Liars and deceits sit on the rulers seat,
Silently signing up for their plans,
And claiming money for each death,
Countries fighting among-st each other,
Especially innocents being targeted as terrorists,
Thanks to our superiors we're nothing but worthless libel's,
Humanity has lost its charm,
The once depth and affection for kids and women,
Leaves behind only raging war, which is on its way.*
Aug 18, 2016
Aug 18, 2016 at 4:40 PM UTC
Trumpstrumpets, look what you have done.
You couldn’t have done worse if you use a gun.
You are so blind you don’t see where this is leading.
Because of your madness, civil rights are bleeding.
All over the civilized world, he turned back the clock.
Because of his greed, America is a laughing stock.
We listen to your excuses and his lies and shake.
This idea that he is a good man is a major mistake.
He always was a liar and a cheat, from the start.
He swindles, dodges and appears to have no heart.
It’s all about him and his ego and who he can cheat.
If he an become emperor his agenda will be complete.
He can dispense with laws and rules and can instead
Sit on his golden throne and cry, “Off with his head!”
And you people who never seem to have read the bible
Say he is a godly person is a straight up case of libel.
So Trumpstrumpets, keep on telling yourself lies
About how he is so trustworthy, good and wise
When the truth is you all should be hiding and blushing
Because the man is nothing but a tool for the Russians.
He’s out to feather his own nest and line his pockets.
Meanwhile, he is setting us up for bombs and rockets.
We are part of a global village of international trust.
This one man, is turning our sterling image to rust.
Jun 16, 2018
Jun 16, 2018 at 6:02 AM UTC