"objectionable" poems
if words are food for the mind,
then here is a glimpse of mine
if words are drugs for the brain,
then here is why i'm so pained.
abandoned, abhorrent
abnormal, absent
abstract, abuse
addicted, anxious
betray, bitterly
blank, blasphemy
bloodless, breakdown
breathless, brutal
captive, casually
catastrophe, cautiously
change, cigarettes
crucial, clueless
damaged, dangerous
deadly, disastrous
disheartened, disconcerting
dramatic, dreading
eager, eccentric
ecstasy, eerie
effete, effortless
embittered, excess
faded, failure
faintly, fallacy
faltering, fatally
fearfully, finally
garbage, gawky
gibberish, gloomy
gone, goodbye
graphic, gratify
hallucinate, harshly
hazy, heartless
hectic, helpless
hesitant, hit-and-miss
idiotic, idly
ignorant, intimacy
illogical, imaginative
infatuated, intoxicated
jealousy, jittery
journey, journal
joylessly, judicial
junk, juvenile
keen, killing
knavish, knocking
knockout, knotty
knowingly, knowledge
laborious, lacking
lame, languishing
lifeless, literature
lovelorn, lugubrious
madness, maintenance
make-believe, malaise
mean, melancholic
mellow, melodramatic
naff, naivety
nameless, naturally
nauseous, nebulous
neglected, nervous
oasis, objectionable
obliged, obliterate
oblivion, obscurity
obsolete, one-and-only
pacifist, pained
pale, panicky
paradise, paralyze
passionately, passively
raging, ranting
rationalize, raving
realistic, reasonable
rebellious, reckless
saboteur, sadness
sake, sameness
sanity, satisfactory
scar, steady
taint, tangled
tasteless, tearful
telling, temperamental
terror, theoretical
unaffected, uncanny
uncommon, unconsciously
undesirable, uneasy
unfortunate, untidy
vaguely, vanish
vanity, vanquish
versatile, vicious
violence, voracious
waiting, waking
walkout, wanting
wasteful, weary
withering, wrecking
if words are food for the mind,
then you've seen a glimpse of mine
if words are drugs for the brain,
then no wonder i'm so pained.
-djs
Aug 5, 2013
Aug 5, 2013 at 11:21 PM UTC
Once a **** is given, one can not get it back.
I heard somewhere recently
that people are the most creative
at the times they think
that they are utterly useless:
like in the morning before getting coffee
or while surrounded by ******* co-workers who won't shut up about their stupid gun collection
(cause seriously, no one cares about how big your **** isn't, Phil.)
The amount of ***** anyone can give in a day varies based of many factors - the amount of sleep someone has the night before or if they ate breakfast that morning, for example, can determine how many ***** a person has to spare.
It is in that spirit - despite my better judgement -
I am writing to you at four AM.
Sitting in my underwear,
Forcing my eyes to stay open, licking my dust-dry lips.
and realizing that I forgot to brush my teeth -
I'm writing that tid-bit that down
in hopes it will embarrass me into making a proper oral hygiene choice
sometime in between when I finish writing this and before I pass out from exhaustion.
If someone deems a person or a situation not worth their emotional effort, they can choose to not give a **** despite having ***** they can give.
Today at work:
Everyone kept asking me if I was alright
I told them that I think so -
because, that's the truth.
But also because it's easier to say than
"I don't want to be here, and your face annoys me"
A **** is approximately two damns. A **** is two ***** and a **** is two rat's *****
I don't have much to say in this piece
So I'm hoping that self-deprecation
and artsy-fartsy stream of consciousness
still passes for decent poetry these days.
Taking a **** is morally objectionable.
Apr 2, 2013
Apr 2, 2013 at 4:38 AM UTC
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Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 1:57 PM UTC
i'm dead serious about conceptualising a su doku...
i'm on the basis of fractions...
praxis 9
/ 4
optical coordination of stressors of furthered insertion
for some reason i cited:
9 x 6 = 51
and then 9 x 9 = 81...
**** 1 is such a difficult number to muster /
master in a goemetric class...
1 isn't exactly geometrically "sound" -
hello φoνoς -
alternatively, when you're doing a really hard su doku,
quote this quasi-copernican interpretation,
i.e. doing the puzzle "lying down"...
i dunno(h)... when complexity arises
numbers "lying down" makes perfect sense...
su doku?
it's like onomatopoeia in terms of arrangement...
81? and it's still a perfect square?!
o.k. o.k. (leo getz style),
ω
3 ß
m
what the **** was alternative to the said?
u p
d
o
w
n p
u
d o w n
by now you're ****** kidding...
M
3 Σ
W my name's matthew,
so you can imagine why i get all hot and bothered
about this variation.
now for some dead etymology (i,e,
i don't give a **** where the words came from,
i just like the way they sound) -
poligon,
okop.
all, if any, emotional intelligence equates
itself toward an intensity status...
i.e. the more you feel, the more
your emotional competence...
for sure... apathy is the "placebo" guarantee
cure for any type of pathos -
or the λoγoς of guaranteed explanations.
to be honest?
λoγoς has been reduced to a suffix status
with that basic "accomplishment" of -ology.
another "funny" word... by was of saying:
it's actually a city...
Płock -
Łódz*,
alternatively? let's juggle
ò (grave) & ó (acute)....
now i see the funny side of the tetragrammaton
concept... it really is omnipresent...
between ò & ó
you want the sort of incisor that's basically |
straight...
something that really might **** off god
once and for all...
with nietzsche it didn't really happen...
i mean an |
o
that would get rid of god in
the classical roman sense of: oh...
and return to the omicron basis
for having revealed a phonetic encoding
that's simply O... and that means doing away with
the god's portion of a hammer (H) -
or the second syllable of the name:
η - weh...
eta weh...
i'd start translation phonetic encoding if i were you...
that variant stated? eta?
it's also called: a short e....
the opposite like loki to thor?
epsilon... and it's called the long e...
in greek it's ε, in latin it's the basis for avoiding
diacritical confrontation / application...
i.e. ee in the word keep, e.g.
Apr 20, 2017
Apr 20, 2017 at 1:35 PM UTC
The coffee dripping down my throat
Was okay
Lights seemed obnoxiously interrupting
Which was fine
Sound reached me at an average speed
I guess better than being deaf
My blood didn't get enough sleep
Eyes a little timid of objectionable presence
I was a teacher today
Seen better days
But it was honestly
Okay
Average found me accepting
Warm embrace of spinal taps
Laying my head on my pillow
Was decent
I will find tomorrow in its entirety
Willing to exist in awkward small talk
During bad weather
Moderately mumbling about ordinary things
Like today
Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 12:18 AM UTC
I sit in a bar
with Miss Pinkie;
her son, who is a copper,
is getting the drinks.
She looks at me
and says:
we are just friends
if he asks
(as if I was going
to tell him
I was rogering his mother)
and don't talk politics
or say you write poetry.
I will be
the perfect gentleman,
I reply.
Her son comes
with the drinks:
a whiskey for his mother,
a beer for me
and a lemonade
for himself;
he sits down
and gazes at me.
So, Benedict,
what do you do
for a living?
I'm a nurse,
I work with your mum.
He looks at Miss Pinkie,
then at me.
What do you do?
I ask,
giving him
the Mr Innocence stare.
I'm a police officer;
aiming for C.I.D.
He sits upright
in the chair,
brushing a hand
over his dark hair.
What do you think
of the IRA?
Miss Pinkie stares at me
as if I'd let wind go in public.
They're a murderous lot,
he says;
you don't
support them
do you?
No, I don't support them;
I agree with their objectives,
but not their methods
of achieving
those objectives.
He looks at Miss Pinkie
and she looks at us both
as if she didn't know
who we were.
Both their objectives
and methods
are objectionable.
He takes a sip
of his lemonade
as if the very words
were distasteful
in his mouth;
I sip my beer;
his mother gulps
her whiskey.
What do you do
when you're not
being a nurse
and involved in
“leftist” politics?
I listen to music:
Wagner, Delius and Mahler,
and that crowd.
High-Brow stuff;
I like Johnny Mathis myself.
He wears a smug expression
and looks at his mother;
she looks at her glass.
What else do you do
apart from listening to music?
he asks.
I write poems
and read books.
You're not a queer
are you?
He stares at me
suspiciously,
then looks
at his mother.
Would I be
with your mum
if I were?
Miss Pinkie looks at me;
her blue eyes
are large as a cow's.
What do you mean?
he says.
Another drink?
I say,
another lemonade?
He means,
Miss Pinkie says,
we're good friends,
and he's not
that way inclined.
He stares at me
with a hard glare,
but I don't mind.
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 1:58 AM UTC
This is not a poem about unrequited love
not a poem about the changing of the seasons,
babbling brooks,
cloudless skies,
English gardens in full bloom
not a poem about setting suns, starry skies,
full moons, glittering galaxies
not a poem about absent fathers,
weepy mothers or your cranky old
Aunt Clara in the attic plotting
your death while her dentures soak
in a Polident bath cup
not a poem about the existence or non-existence of
a Supreme Being
not a poem about when you abandoned your children
or when your children abandoned you
not a poem about poverty, social isolation,
the Holocaust, war, the evils of
capitalism, the specter of injustice,
the injustice of inequality, the
inequality of injustice or any other
word attached to the prefix "in"
not a poem about ****** conquest, ****** dreams,
the effects of liquor or drugs
on one's libido
not a poem that uses the f-word, the s-word, the c-word
...or any of the other
objectionable words used
to "front" the remaining
letters of the alphabet
This
is
clearly
a
poem
about
what
is
not a poem
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 12:02 PM UTC
The nonstop negative news or publicities on Haiti
Hurt tremendously and disturbingly
The relentless or constant bashings of all Haitians
Twinge and twist my heart like cancer patients
On their death beds, who are resigned, hopeless
Penniless, helpless, and spiritless.
Haiti needs a mega break from all the powerful parasites
That are still exploiting our precious resources at countless sites
While concomitantly exploring and impoverishing our peasants
Our innocent siblings who perilously work for crumbs and cents.
It is time that all truths are spoken or be told
It is time that we unearth, unfurl or unfold
All vile plots so the world can witness the premeditated lies.
Papa Noël is a well designed invention in disguise
At Christmas time, the hurts are excruciating
And the misery is objectionable and nauseating.
Copyright © December, 2021, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Dec 20, 2024
Dec 20, 2024 at 2:49 PM UTC
The more you know, the less you do,
That's the paradox, you see.
Don't stray too far to either side,
But find a place between.
Object when objectionable,
This can be clearly seen.
But when subjecting the subjectable,
Stay somewhere near the mean.
These are the rules of life,
And the rules that all should live by.
Follow them with discipline,
And you'll find you never die.
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 9:44 PM UTC
One day I will raise
One day I will clear the shadowed fog which haunts my dreams
I will evaporate the cloud which sits on my frail arms
One day I will rip the paper which chooses who I am
I will slice through the deceiving Ivory sheet, I'll make sure it disintegrates into the ash it came from
One day I will break the steel chains which strangle my hope. I will bite through the objectionable links which encase me as their profound prisoner.
One day I will be strong. I will be able to drag the burdens and memories to its final destination. I will not cower when I see the odius foul luggage stand tall and scream. I will not amalgamate with delirium as I hear Past's cries. I will persevere.
One day I will fix myself. I will be able to stich the lacerations time has caused, I will be able to build the disintegrating building my mind has become. I will be able to paint my soul its luminous halo again.
And maybe one day I will raise. I will raise from the fog, the paper, the chains, the past and the pain. I will raise with purity and maybe...maybe if I'm lucky...I will be graced with the simple gift of a smile.
*For now I can hope...
About what I will do...
One day*
Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 9:34 AM UTC
Doing something wrong or objectionable, better do nothing they say,
Not doing anything, better do something and make mistakes they say,
Trying to do something different, you better succeed at it they say,
Took me a while to find out, they themselves don't do anything, they just say !!
Dec 18, 2018
Dec 18, 2018 at 12:54 AM UTC
toward thee spunky gal,
whose impregnation and debut appearance
way to brief a tale for Aesop
cuz, (umpteen iterations recounted),
out the birth canal aye did bop
analogously compared
to a mealy mouthed measly crop
a spindly tangle of arms and legs
radiated (starfish like)
dangled and would uselessly drop
like a raggedy ann male counterpart
(raggedy andy - how original)
with limbs that didst flop
and tis no small wonder, thyself as one
newborn baby body electric
easily confused with bony glop,
which skimpy weight
leant convenience as sigh grew older
to alternate jumping
(ala pogo stick mode) and hop
from one skinny spindle shank leg to another,
and manifold orbitz whip
sawing round the sun
bore witness to puny laughable specimen
of a nerdy lad, who (in hindsight)
grew long straggly hair,
which NO ONE (except me) could touch,
nor most definitely NOT lop
off (this fetish) compensation
for very slight physique
in dewed time begot
pencil necked geek milksop,
now at an age prowl lix sing viz
dragging, crawling, battling...
slight abdominal bulge
unlike widower octogenarian biological pop
whose once strapping superman
like build atrophying (sad sight)
since grim reaper put objectionable stop
upon head of harriet harris,
whereat two and a half score years
her longevity did top.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
now, comb may tooth how zen,
sans eight plus ten
'twill be thirteen yars
when me late mum agonizingly relinquished
an indomitable loo ving life,
which strong fighting spirit
(spittle and vinegar) yen
reached a juncture,
(sans metastasized ovarian cancer)
forewent heroic measures, which ken
not avail bottled anger within this sole son
telling thee, he didst love ye
never communicating NOR often!
Apr 20, 2018
Apr 20, 2018 at 12:27 AM UTC
This atheistic, intelligent, liberal minded
nonestablishmentarian
christened Matthew
Scott Harris, haint gotta clue,
how bias, discrimination,
prejudice didst brew
within me noggin admitting to myself,
(that though tolerant
towards most other people)
amidst variegated hue
mankind cutting crew,
I can not wholeheartedly dislodge un argue
ably the stubborn presence
of disagreeably unwanted notions,
an effort quite few
till to expunge, though not clearly
delineated against gentile nor Jew
the latter encompassing
my genealogical lineage
(as ye probably knew)
though acute awareness exists
that objectionable thoughts
towards others coalesced and grew,
sans initial aural, sensational,
and visual perceptions did ensue
from nearly imperceptible
germinal, ephemeral, and casual
brief interactions, thy amygdala and,
posterior cingulate cortex
(PCC) instantaneously drew
nearly nsync with a single blink
of thine myopic left or right human eye
(which average duration 0.1 to 0.4 seconds,
or 100 to 400 milliseconds)
forged an unconscious initial mount'n view
clocked in at 100 milliseconds
or 328.0839895013123 feet per second
pointing asper an expert mason
hermetically sealing a psychic impression
ala mortise and tenon
amalgamated conglomerate
enterprise glommed zoo
wool logical imprimatur difficult,
but not impossible loo
sin and/or completely dislodge
neurological hullabaloo.
Apr 15, 2018
Apr 15, 2018 at 3:12 PM UTC
I wanna destroy the world
Just like a villain
Just like an evil
I wanna no friend
A fire through which I would be
damage everything around me
and some burning ashes
on my face too
I know it makes me hateable
Just like a wicked
I know it makes me objectionable
Just like every cruel
I wanna make dark all the bright places
Just like my dark heart
I wanna pluck happiness from the faces
Just like my own
This, what I'm thinking right now
under my skin
Sep 3, 2016
Sep 3, 2016 at 2:38 PM UTC
the look of your ****** expression
really is objectionable ;
you express the seedy ugly;
trapped in your heart so well
Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 2:45 PM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
For the good of the party
They need to reassess
Who’s holding the trump card
In case they haven’t guessed
The party of Lincoln and Reagan
Has become so much less
But who is nominated ultimately
Will be the final test
For the good of the party
They need to disavow
The frontrunner’s shenanigans
They need to do it now
The whole world is listening
And watching his offensive style
He alienates everyone
We’ve known it for a while
For the good of the party
They need to call a halt
By rejecting everything he says
Succinctly his gestalt
If he’s perceived as a racist
It’s totally his fault
The whole world’s sensibility
Has come under his assault
For the good of the party
They cannot let him claim
That he’s truly one of them
Because he’s not the same
He is so objectionable
That the word I used is tame
But when we get right down to it
The party must share the blame
Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2016. All rights reserved.
Jun 21, 2016
Jun 21, 2016 at 11:37 PM UTC
(this pastiche promulgated many moons ago from those screaming ****** thirsty headlines from the Italian court for justice sans the brutal homicide attributed to this then American college student and her ex-boyfriend). My gut reaction that zero apr guilt linkedin with lonely looking lass, who may very well bear the burden of culpable guilt for the rest of (what this totally tubular unknown guy no war) a fulfilling life.
with the assiduous vigor of a cadre of volunteers
brought sought after fruition of freedom
per the release of imprisoned young (twenty something) American lass
whose former life sentenced commuted to egress from an Italian jail
to her home within Seattle, Washington
whereby family, friends and strangers who fought for her liberation
breathed one palpable surprising sigh of euphoric relief
when the plane who boarded landed safely on the tarmac of SEATAC
aswarm with frenzied television camera crews
scrambled to get the initial scoop and what promises
to land this once anonymous cell bait
an undisclosed amount of lucre
which many on the other side of the pond
find mind boggling if not downright objectionable
moreso livid with rage
against the Machiavellian machine
on account of supposed culpability in tandem with her then boy friend
accused (under the guise of guilty fiat)
sans homicide of college roommate
now sought after garnering this fawning female
(salaciously tagged by Perugian court with the sobriquet “she wolf”
now faces a future replete with riches aplenty
allowing gravity of ugly epithet plus stigma from accusation of ******
to serve as basis for what will no doubt be a best seller
not to mention made for the silver screen blockbuster
with subsequent royal carpet treatment
to compensate for guilty judgment decreed
without tangible evidence nor fair trial to boot!
Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 3:44 AM UTC
Lifeblood of democracy hemorrhaging
ousting the "FAKE" president only recourse
to staunch impending grim demise,
since forefathers drafted
United States Constitution
ratified more'n two centuries ago
hoi polloi must take to the streets
denouncing severe curtailment
impinging sacred freedom of speech
linkedin with paramount bedrock provision
accessing unvarnished flint ****** "truth,"
nonetheless commander in chief
he quakingly, staunchly, vociferously...
excoriates, lacerates, repudiates...
one damning hermetically sealed,
iniquitous airtight, vacuum packed
flagrant misuse of power,
(not to mention nepotism)
invidious, insidious, injurious... infractions
incontestable, incontrovertible, contemptible...
significant melange in führer
re: hating deplorably
crooked basely barren
factual exposé after another,
deft correspondents all not quiet
along western front
(I heard Maria - mull remark)
bring "to light" execrable,
lamentable reprehensible...
gross transgressions
commander in chief
significantly overstepped
Pulitzer prize winning
prestigious storied publications
scathingly trounced, pillaried,
lambasted, insulted, denounced,
butchered, critiqued, demonized,
fricassed, gored, humiliated,...
pummeled, quartered, reviled
courageously expounding fiend
ensconced within his Taj Mahal
impregnable donjon, whereat he trumpets
laurels asper, nonpareil administration
laying groundless accusations
baring his white fangs,
twittering, naysaying, mocking.. supreme
renown gifted by "honest Abe"
recalcitrant commander in chief,
who refutes objectionable
dogged investigative journalism
every step of the way,
where dedicated news gatherers
risk life and limb
firing line reportage troopers
ferreting (foxlike) *****
doth gopher precious nuggets
uncover alarming undisputable details
impossible to refute raw bits
agent provocateur freely colluding
immediately hashtashed poppycock
smarmy, snooty, snappy
beastly capital one ogre
blatantly castigating diligent endeavors
oblivious pie in sky
delusional egotistic haughtiness
bobblehead vilified by silent majority.
Jun 3, 2019
Jun 3, 2019 at 9:29 PM UTC
If we are so coveted
By grasping hands
Fingers prodding and pulling
Measuring and beckoning
Pushing us this way and that
Then let us also be
Objectionable
To their sensibilities
So that the hands
May falter in spite of themselves
And lose their grip
At least some of the time
May 23, 2024
May 23, 2024 at 11:31 AM UTC
Henry Kline Boyer Elementary School
Evansburg, Pennsylvania
circa ~ 1969 ADD:
A(fter) D(umpster) D(diving).
As a Halloween
costume, that fifth year
literally dug up materials,
sans throw away wear
during grade school,
my father got veer
re: brilliant idea
for this sole son,
which found gritty
sanitation crew unclear
but right at home
on animal farm,
and/or role with
pigpen didst share
this original getup cost Peanuts,
but caused a big stink to rear
up dressed depleted oxygen,
and many classmate didst swear
objectionable odor
also induced eyes to tear.
Missus Shaner (the talon
clawed, shriveled queer
looking relic of a dinosaur,
who taught – for near
lee a millennium fifth grade)
gave me - up pair
of gooey (Paraguay)
“FAKE” genuine heir
looms (bone a fide kitchen
middens) artifacts mere
wrack que less originally care
lessly tossed out by
indigenous: Guaraní,
Ayoreo, Toba-Maskoy,
Aché and Sanapan
discovered in present
day capital, dear
lee benevolent holy city
steeped in prayer:
(Nuestra Señora Santa
María de la Asunción).
Authentic “FAKE” Central A mere
reek'n (American) rank
and file putrid bare
lee tolerable plum
rancid rotten ancient
******* handily found
teacher to declare
me the putative winner
since everyone else
passed out from the fetid air.
Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 1:55 PM UTC