"oafs" poems
Vacant pleas for union fill the muffled ears of oafs and tickle these text boxes with futility.
How do I find the courage to write out loud?
To speak to people,
without prompting?
To laugh and cry legibly,
once I know a lover's
listening?
Jan 27, 2013
Jan 27, 2013 at 8:40 PM UTC
******* are a classic pastime
Through American eyes
Sickening shapes such oafs mime
Beneath grave patchwork lies
Feb 14, 2014
Feb 14, 2014 at 2:51 PM UTC
the mountains stand with thickness
they stand out behind my house
i hear them thinking out there
thinking just summer or winter
they think on them flowers and
rivers and i think them purest
magic with whom i collude with
on hoary frosted eves i plunk
through the neat lips of trees
about the mountains hard mouth
i trundle and mutter with the
naked boughs of them those
straight moon piercing oafs
they cut her pretty waxing *****
into finite lovely ribbons
and i fold them 1x1 into my
soul, i gather up the loose
strength of the moon's hair into
my palm and sticking it in my
pocket i heft my sturdy frame
back to where i left my car sleeping
Dec 20, 2011
Dec 20, 2011 at 1:16 AM UTC
Bring down Jesus Christ
the Son of God Himself
and our Socialist Anarchist Brigade
would start spewing their toxic biles
The would write He is an Anti-Semite
they would accuse our Blessed Lord of being gay
fancy going around with twelve other robed men
they would say he is cruel to animals for wearing leather sandals
they would say He is a cross-dresser for wearing robes
Our Toxic obsessives would call Him an Alcoholic,
oh yes, remember Him Drinking wine - all that turning water to wine
Ah, the nutcases will write that he was a con-man and a magician
all that rising people from the dead and making cripples walk
restoring sights and all that Penn and Teller stuff
His Love or all would have them brainless oafs call Him a stalker
off-course they'll say he was megalomaniac asking all to serve Him
He loves His Mother so to them, He has an Oedipus Complex
And when he heard God stating 'This is My Beloved Son'
the nutters of doom would scream Our Lord was schizophrenic
By not sinning and partying, they would say, He was boring
a po-faced preacher who thinks He is better than us
Fasting and going off into the wilderness means He's a Loner
just ripe for bullying by the weak simpleton cowards
and being crucified serves Him right for calling out all the robbers, thieves and wrongdoers
Yes, we're brainless, blind, dumb, confused, jealous and frustrated
just pond lives, wasters and pointless mediocre s
our job is to disfigure, destroy, lie, fabricate, twist and smear
we're shameless and pathetic but we don't care and why should we
we are only human, not God...........
Aug 15, 2019
Aug 15, 2019 at 5:59 PM UTC
Such a desolate fate,
Driven by insolent oafs,
Though I am no better.
Incandescent fervor,
Merciless minds,
Constant remembrance of meticulous void.
Mindless opinions,
Pungent noise,
Ethereal existence,
General facade,
Contrived smile,
-hollowed.
Nothing good can grow here now.
Empty, ugly fate.
Burdened conscious.
Feb 4, 2013
Feb 4, 2013 at 7:47 PM UTC
I am a poet.
I love to say that
when smug oafs
ask what I do
and watch the look
of horror on their
faces, like they
just swallowed
the *** end of
a dead skunk,
maggots and all.
It's my job
to blurt out
the ugly truths
most folks won't
even think and try
to make them
beautiful,
to make flowers
blossom from the
***** of dead skunks.
Like a weather person,
I don't always succeed.
It's not a good job,
the pay is ******
and there are no benefits.
Sometimes, like April,
it can be a cruel job.
But it is a job
and it's my job.
Someone has to do it
so I keep on trying.
I am a poet.
~mce
Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 2:08 PM UTC
all the things in world aren't always made for you
maybe it only lets you touch it or feel it
and maybe some things aren't always meant for you
maybe we just have to work for it.
we cannot resist rejection, as challenges come
it is either jump with happiness or cry with greediness
but one thing i know is
to never let yourself hide on your shell
maybe, we should let ourselves show
i am not afraid, nor envy or shy
my feet is on the ground and i will lift it up and fly
regardless of circumstances that made my cry
maybe all the things in the world aren't for us
because He creates the life we must have
and i am willing to take it and
do things according to His will
regardless of evil and insincerity.
I believe in my capabilities and those are my wings
i may not fly now, but someday i will
maybe my wings are too golden to be built easily
and now i just have to wait patiently.
There are no oafs nor too intelligence in this world
there are only love, guidance and peace.
And if we let it pass through our souls,
Never we will be afraid
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 9:37 AM UTC
There's something's not quite right
Isn't there!
Isn't there?
There's something gone awry.
A picture that's not perfect
Or too good.......
A picture that's been airbrushed.
The case notes? Where are they?
There's pages missing from the bundle.
Bungle?
Rumbled?
Not a chance!
Who knows the way?
Who has the say and makes the rules?
Are we the fools
Who want it nice?
Sugar and spice and meek as mice.
Don't look twice. Don't glance behind, beneath
The sheath that shields the blade
That sliced its way
To reach the mountain top
Where sit the gods-
So puny, pale and pouting.
Oh look. They're shouting now
There's prying going on and peering
Hark! They're swearing. Profanities or oaths?
'You plebs! You oafs! And ' How dare you!s'
Float down from thrones
And pleas and groans and moans.
And all goes quiet
Shh! Not a word
Don't rock the boat.
Sleepy dogs drop off to sleep again
And little men creep up the hill
In full view.
Jul 27, 2016
Jul 27, 2016 at 2:55 PM UTC
Fat Confederates in Camouflage Knee-Pants
General Robert E. Lee in in a slogan tee -
One cannot imagine such, nor yet
**** Dowling defending old Galveston
Armed with made-in-China tiki torches
Doctor Martin Luther King adorned in bling -
One cannot imagine such, nor yet
The Little Rock Nine disfigured with tats
Or freedom marchers sporting designer sneaks
So, all you goofs and oafs and slobs and yobs,
Get out of the way; go find yourselves jobs
Aug 12, 2017
Aug 12, 2017 at 3:59 PM UTC