"niggardly" poems
My auspicious and audacious assault augments the annoyance of aged accomplices.
My bodacious broadside of boffolas berates and buffaloes bros beneficently.
A classy crusade Clownishly chiseling and criticizing childishness.
A devilish ********** of dillydallying dullards; devoutly denying dimwits the dulcet dream of defiance.
Excessive, exuberant edification, ebulliently eliminating education-evictees.
A fair-weather frolic in flippancy with furious fools floundering in flawed foppishness.
Gregariously grating glum guys gleefully, growing grander garnishes of gripping gallantry gaily.
Heckling hooligans highlights my heavenly humor.
Irreverently irking irritable, iniquitous idiots in inestimably infuriating and incredible instances.
A jolly, jocular **** joking with jerks.
A kreiger kicking kleptomaniacs in the karyotype. (Cut me some slack, this is 'k', after all.)
A ludicrous, laughing lambaste of lollygagging lunatics, loftily loosing luscious lunacy on lucky losers.
A magnificent masterpiece of malfeasance, a monstrous, malevolent mission of massive misfortune for the minor minors missing no malicious missive.
A noxious, narcissistic niggling of nitwits, niftily nixing the noisome naivete of niggardly nobs.
An offhand, off-color outburst of outlandish observations to outclass the obnoxious overtures of obsequious offal.
A pragmatic prediction of possible platitudes or platypi, a placid parley of pyrotechnic pleasantries provoking Pyrrhic protections by prurient prats.
A quixotic quibble quarreling with a queer quarry.
Ribald ribbing, ruining the robust reality of the repreachful, repugnant, and rapacious with risque ridiculousness.
A silly, slighting slander of sluglike slavishness, succinctly sinking sloppy simpletons sourly.
Tracing the titillating talent of towing tyranny to towering terrors to tactless, togless, terrapins of the times.
Jan 7, 2012
Jan 7, 2012 at 11:25 PM UTC
*This is one of the racier "Memories" poems by the great Barry Hodges, my alter ego.
It might well make you come involuntarily in your ******
How happy was I once with the wind in my hair
Wandering o'er the dales with joyousness unmeasur'd,
In the sweet long passed innocent days of platonic love
When stolen gropes and kiss were to be treasured.
But all good and true things come to a sad close
And my poor first love lies in her grave so sorrowfully
Having been crushed to death by a runaway steamroller
Before I managed to go all the way quite thoroughly.
What a waste of delightful teenage flesh was that
Yet perhaps I had a narrow escape from the derangement
Which might have been mine had our trysting
Led to a semi-permanent matrimonial arrangement.
For I recall one afternoon in the old ABC cinema
In the delighful Yorkshire spa town of Harrogate,
Sitting next to my gorgeous love in the back row,
Exploring her not so very private parts on a hot date.
How I cursed the management's niggardly folly
In not showing a film with hot romantic blood
But saving pathetic pennies by putting on
Daffy ******** Duck and Elmer ******* Fudd.
But yet I perserved with my digital explorations
Unaware that the throbs my fingers felt were no dream
But darling Elsie laughing like a proverbial drain
At Daffy's hilarious anatine adventures on-screen.
'Twas then I began to wonder about the viscous liquid
I had hitherto imagined was Elsie's lovejuice flowing
*(dear, dear reader, cease your perusal of my tale forthwith
if you are of a nervous disposition or prone to food up-throwing)*.
It was only a careful examination of my sopping knuckles
In the dimly lit gents after old Daffy's film was done and dusted
Which revealed that my dearly beloved had leaked
Big time out of both ends, leaving my fingers well encrusted.
O to think that, but for Daffy, I might have been lumbered
With a different kind of bird for whom double incontinence
Was a way of life (thus, the fatal steamroller she encountered
The very next day was a blessing from kindly Providence).
Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 5:07 PM UTC
1326
Our little secrets slink away—
Beside God’s shall not tell—
He kept his word a Trillion years
And might we not as well—
But for the niggardly delight
To make each other stare
Is there no sweet beneath the sun
With this that may compare—
1.8k
I know I was taking YOUR sweet time,
To make sure you were MINE.
But I couldn't find your heart and where it lies.
And trust me I've cried,
More, oceans than the world hides...
But you don't understand, and won't be my man so you divide.
MORE than just RED and BLUE,
My heart in two, yeah it's ******* true!
I can be the fool,
But try to KEEP cool,
Just for YOU to play me like you do.
...
I'm so tired of my own tears because you ain't got no fears,
Of losing me.
Because you know I stick around no matter how many state's are surrounding us,
Or far in between.
BECAUSE all you are is ******* MEAN to me!
And I don't know how to trust.
So I turn into the rust you so easily brush,
Off those cold shoulders.
**** might as well move to Boulder!
WHERE my tears might just smolder, another crowd.
But it's too late, it's ALL over now.
I'm proud, because it got so loud.,
And I just didn't know how,
To LOVE.
So sorry my God is One Love!
SORRY I only wanted to make love,
And that being with you was My enough.
Sorry I forgot I could sing,
And didn't dare open my mouth because of the opinions you'd bring - me.
Sorry to myself and my soul.
I forgot what I was doing, cold and alone.
...
So this is what I get
For being half upset and saying **** the rest.
But forget?!
Niggardly, ya name is basically tatted under my breast.
I don't rest.
Because you're that close to my heart.
I said no to a man who wanted me from the start.
He asked me to marry him, But I wanted you.
And when I left on the plane next month I still wanted you.
And through the lies and deceit I still want you.
But I get so **** distracted I'm just a fool, for you.
You're forever RED and I'm forever BLUE.
Tell me a ******* thing...
Put you in my shoes.
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 10:16 AM UTC
I am not usually frugal but
I hand you guilty slips of the fingers
Niggardly.
It is wartime and I am rationing touch.
I chew the pen you gave me; do I
Taste you?
Do you see my tongue and wish
I would lay it hot to your flesh, burning
Excuses in stealth-sweetened luxury?
Jan 27, 2011
Jan 27, 2011 at 7:39 PM UTC
I live in the moment;
Running freely, half-cocked;
A poofteenth of an idea
And I'm off with the pixies;
Chasing my tail, trying to nut-out
A niggly-niggardly issue unresolved,
That stumps or annoys the Earth's
Best representatives in a speciality.
Whether I'll end at an adequate
Conclusion is anyone's guess.
Bonus After-thoughts -->
I'm programmed
to generalise for
simplicity's sake.
I'm FREE
I'm FINE
And this FUGGLY-DUCKLING
Could possibly be DIVINE
(OR Delusional - Take your pick).
Mar 2, 2014
Mar 2, 2014 at 7:33 PM UTC
quick figurative brush stroke drawn out character sketch
(serendipitous verisimilitude)
i stand in awe
(with mouth agape) at elegiac, fantastic,
and graphic idyllic Kinkade magic
leaving breathlessness from craw
at such artistic talent oozing
spellbindingly, whatever
aforementioned noteworthy craftsman
didst paint or draw,
and chanced to comment
about sad affairs leaving flaw
in regard to questionable business ethics -
where press hee haw
contradicting, maligning, undermining, and jaw
boning sans said late talented mortal
engaging in sketchy traits of south paw
city when contrasted with a dog given gift -
ooh...such rah...rah...rah
when he first appeared on the scene,
where most viewers saw
utmost dynamic, fantastic,
and harmonic convergence
displaying such prosaic, rhapsodic,
titanic art show events
hum...and perhaps not surprising
his illicit in dull gents presents stark contrast,
staring hypnotized as imagination invents
experiencing peaceful, restful
and tumblerful joie de vivre espying
honorable mentioned nonpareil oeuvre
that placidly rents
craving to disappear into bucolic landscape whence,
splashed upon canvass,
attempting to bat
presumed "FAKE" rumors aside as nonsense - fat
chance prevailed constituting:
deceitful, immoral, unfaithful sly kat
nocturnal antics, despite scathing attacks
(cut him down to size), niggardly praises spat
out for me, I maintain cult of personality (his)
setting Mac Book Pro wallpaper
with exemplary landscape,
either authentic or copy cat.
Mar 6, 2018
Mar 6, 2018 at 10:15 AM UTC