"parroting" poems
"I'm in trouble aren't I?"
"You have no idea..."
"Wanna know something?"
"Are you going to say the same thing,
Like you do every time?
You know.. if you hadn't done this...
Sort of thing?
"Save your breath mate,
I've heard it all before
Why don't you say something new,
Instead of parroting the same **** every time?"
"Like seriously,
Why are you even talking to me?
You wanna gloat don't you?
"Haha, you've been caught and I win".
"Well **** you *******
I'm not hearing it
Why don't you leave me alone
And go choke on a bucket of ****
Dec 19, 2015
Dec 19, 2015 at 1:28 AM UTC
walking down park
amsterdam
or columbus do you ever stop
to think what it looked like
before it was an avenue
did you ever stop to think
what you walked
before you rode
subways to the stock
exchange (we can’t be on
the stock exchange
we are the stock
exchanged)
did you ever maybe wonder
what grass was like before
they rolled it
into a ball and called
it central park
where syphilitic dogs
and their two-legged tubercular
masters fertilize
the corners and side-walks
ever want to know what would happen
if your life could be fertilized
by a love thought
from a loved one
who loves you
ever look south
on a clear day and not see
time’s squares but see
tall Birch trees with sycamores
touching hands
and see gazelles running playfully
after the lions
ever hear the antelope bark
from the third floor apartment
ever, did you ever, sit down
and wonder about what freedom’s freedom
would bring
it’s so easy to be free
you start by loving yourself
then those who look like you
all else will come
naturally
ever wonder why
so much asphalt was laid
in so little space
probably so we would forget
the Iroquois, Algonquin
and Mohicans who could caress
the earth
ever think what Harlem would be
like if our herbs and roots and elephant ears
grew sending
a cacophony of sound to us
the parrot parroting black is beautiful black is beautiful
owls sending out whooooo’s making love ...
and me and you just sitting in the sun trying
to find a way to get a banana tree from one of the monkeys
koala bears in the trees laughing at our listlessness
ever think its possible
for us to be
happy
Nikki Giovanni, “Walking Down Park” from The Selected Poems of Nikki Giovanni. Copyright © 1996 by Nikki Giovanni.
May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 1:17 PM UTC
Look at all the parrots--
Parroting the words
Of all the other parrots--
Of all the other birds--
Parroting profusely
All the same refrains--
Parroting the constant patter
In their parrot brains--
Parroting the preaching
From the pulpit to the pews--
Parroting their parents'
And their parents' parents' views--
Parroting their leaders
And their pompous platitudes--
Parroting their peers'
Pretentious attitudes--
Parroting the patriarchs'
Proselytizing that'll
Put your teeth on edge
With their pathetic prattle--
Parroting the poppycock
Of trite pontifications--
Parroting pernicious
And sly manipulations--
Parroting the pretty birds
Whose pageantry and glory
Appeal to their prurient tastes
In each pathetic story--
Parroting the songsters
With parasitic pleasure
And counting out the rhythm
Of every pitiful measure--
Parroting the powerful
Whose ploys are so profuse,
Leaving the powerless
Pummeled with abuse--
Parroting with passion
Presumptuous prophesies
With putative contrition,
"Humbly" on their knees--
Parroting themselves--
Together all in sync--
How they love to parrot
So they don't have to think!
- by Bob B
Oct 30, 2016
Oct 30, 2016 at 8:10 AM UTC
"Like a prayer in church to God
you are to me precious love: " "knowing you is loving you thus, Knowing me is loving me."
~~
How sweet lies sound near or far
how bitter truth tasted as
memories arrived so awkward
It's bitterness lessened with understanding true love
maturing sweetening and
cruel Mr Ttime relentless I'm
In silence and in time
God allowed me to see
where i erred and failed
.I ask God to show me to lead me
as head not as chopped up tail.
God showed me what I couldn't see
showed those I injured unintendedly
parroting unkind words in ignorance
what you want us all to see.
Please notice my lonely waves
Predictable unchanging.
Drop your pebbles in my sand pond
that everything in me may be altered in your grace Lord
Bless a peace my every loved one.
Remove all enemies from our paths.
Bring my loved ones back to my caring selfless Godlike realms
anchored in your mercy God..
~~~~
Karijinbba.
Aug 19, 2022
Aug 19, 2022 at 7:27 AM UTC
I hope you've heard my love hiding inside the melody that Donny Hathaway plays
From every poetic note folded amongst the ivory keys plucked
This heart writes light like butterfly wings fluttering in flight
But it's heavy when I barely see you
So, my vision grows old like my wishes of us
Weakened only by fleeting time
Yet. lengthened
Like desires that chain-link hopes to the wildest dreams along far streams
You could say I'm always in your hair
Wherever the strands flow, I follow its fibers feverishly
Strung along by song of nature so strong, that
I'm in a Pinocchio-state, made to move by your voice
A puppet parroting psalms to praise your personage
In the richness of your favor
In the hour of knowing
It's been a minute
And time is indeed money
Every second counts when I'm around your golden smile
I wish I could play this track forever
Or rewire my brain to rehearse every one of your favorite verses
Be the B-side of your cassette
And rewind to the best moments
Unwind together.
Ifeanyi N. Okoro II © 2018
Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 10:18 AM UTC
a medley of mange
this group of misfits
laughing dancing
and grazing the strange
unconventional freaks
outlandish and odd
parroting our priests
and glib of our gods
mocking our trials
poking fun of our kings
curating our flaws
as they jump and sing
bent and dimented
indignant to drones
lippy and pert
these rolling stones
theater people
Mar 7, 2019
Mar 7, 2019 at 4:31 PM UTC
I'm writing a story
It's like a Disney flick
With a princess and all
The princess is beautiful
& kind
And sings
But
She finds an ancient gem
Full of power and wealth
It acts on her dreams
Colluding with reality
Trick-or-treat
Later
She finds herself in peril
she's stalked
By 1 million mirrors
Parroting her every move
Lurking around every corner
They catch-up with the princess
Ghastly clouded mirrors
Hovering + being
There.
Stalked by 1 million mirrors
Until they are
Upon her
Nov 24, 2012
Nov 24, 2012 at 10:44 PM UTC
An empire built on enslavement
conquering and plunder
striving to maintain order
via censorship in a modern milieu
the irony isn't lost on me
watched the news today
a self declared expert
cited a rather lengthy inventory of mass murders
a veritable host of troubled people
he seemed well informed
but half dead inside
as if something was internally devouring him
an expert in stolid stage craft
oblivious to his self inflicted harm
until he watched the playbacks that evening
pretending, posturing, play-acting, contrived concerns
now collapsed in a fit on the floor
groveling pitiful fragment
vomiting bourbon tears
out of sight, above detection
by them
the watchers
tomorrow, a different city
another "shooting spree"
another interview
another barren bereft onslaught of absurd rhetorical questions
hand ringing, and staged pandering consolations
another pallid parroting reporter who thanks you for "tuning in."
"next up, Sports!"
Jun 8, 2013
Jun 8, 2013 at 11:08 PM UTC
The clues have been…let's say,
Preponderant. We've seen
That Trump's reputation
Is far from squeaky clean.
Now he sounds indignant:
"How dare they imply
That I worked with Russia!
Do THEY think I'm a spy?"
Is there evidence
That Trump and certain staff,
Knowingly or not,
Worked on Russia's behalf?
Knowing or not knowing…
Yes, even the latter
Definitely is
A counterintelligence matter.
The FBI will discover
Whether suspicions are true
While Trump sends out a tweetstorm.
Of course, what else is new?
Is he an asset to Russia
At our country's expense?
The accusation really
Makes a lot of sense.
His words and actions are
Often injudicious,
Which makes him sound so utterly
And blatantly suspicious.
Mueller certainly knows
A lot more than we think.
He will put together
The pieces, link by link.
Team Trump will spread
Deep state myths to steer
Us off the path to truth.
They smear whom they can smear.
They will try to hide
The truth without a doubt.
Cooperation with Russia
Is what it’s all about.
Misstating the law,
Giuliani tries
To give Trump his support
By backing the president’s lies.
Trump’s words leave us
With so much to bemoan.
Who knows WHAT goes on
When Putin and he are alone?
He's been parroting Putin's
Talking points. How's that?
Is he a spokesman for
The Russian autocrat?
Undeniably, Trump
Finds himself in a spot,
Which amounts to a case
Of possible kompromat.
Never have we had
A situation so…hairy.
Never have we had
A president so scary.
-by Bob B (1-13-19)
Jan 13, 2019
Jan 13, 2019 at 9:13 AM UTC
A couple eastern settlers sat conversing.
"We have settled the Chams, the Aboriginies, and the Cherokee!"
And everyone nodded in agreement!
"We messed up. Pretty good," in reply.
And each man turned to their left to see who had spoken, only to see the backs of their own heads.
Alarmed by neck hairs, they began to chase one another, a race in a circle increasing in speed.
You see, they were beating themselves continuously, first with bayonets then with world trade!
Unfortunately, none of them made it home. All that running had starved them of water, and they got so thirsty they drank up all the alcohol.
You can't find the door if you're drunk, Socrates didn't write. Instead, he sat in helpless mild pleasure at the center; his head parroting around like an owl's.
I would laugh, Socrates didn't write, if only things ever ended.
Nov 29, 2013
Nov 29, 2013 at 2:16 PM UTC
The pathetic get pedantic
with thoughts mostly planted
the world they misunderstand it
yet there’s still discourse demanded
so they take terminology and brand it
as whatever they need to stand fit
and begin digging us into the **** ditch
of their messy rhetorical **** sandwich.
They use the term doublethink
as a subtle wink
to how they’re dumb and stink
on a drug that sinks.
They use echo chamber
to dismiss with anger
the opinions of strangers
for perceived danger.
Anything they don’t like is virtue signaling
it’s my Aunt Gertrude’s symphony
to construe simply
the spider’s spindling.
They call others thought police
while they have a lot to preach
because they want a monopoly
over what the public got to see.
They use the term hivemind
to deny why
the other side cries
saying they want a prize
for parroting the right thing
they avoid the scorpion’s sting
by diminishing and destructing
the other’s mind as nothing.
All of these terms have their place
yet we use them to race
to arguments lacking grace
putting palm to face
to bomb the brakes
of the train that takes
us to a lane of fake
******** banter waste.
Jun 18, 2020
Jun 18, 2020 at 6:46 AM UTC
That my first love was the perfect blue eyed, blond haired cherub is the error of my socialization, proved by the stained yellow of my newly-dulled canines and how there’s ****** pestilence we know and deny that I‘ve come to love
All the rot
And the “Memento Moris”
Because they are all the stuff that I imagine makes the color of her grotesque foot, pressed plainly to my spine like to any ladybug she would’ve otherwise made Love to.
So you may understand that the most attractive thing in the world would be to see her undone.
I won’t say this isn’t perverse for Love.
I love her so much I can despise who she’s become, her skull, a tomb robbed of fresh thought, her gems scraped off like scabs to decorate a destitute grapevine, then plucked and fed to the Noble she owes her fair hair.
“Circumstance. There’s only circumstance to blame.” I once cried about it, my lips craving only to move in tandem again with hers. So parroting was the next best thing.
Until I crushed peaches to try and be rid of her, which is why my ***** tastes of them every time now.
I recall crow’s feet, pressed to my groin, apropos of all I didn’t escape.
So I say, “I adore you” to My Emetophobic Girlfriend to be safe, so Love can stay reserved for the fantasy,
Where “silver lining” is less often the sole, desperately perceived pretty glint offered by the carving knife, since buried in bleeding beef, the raw nerves chastened by death... or anything else so depressing.
My first love became a neutered pet,
Gutted of her Love for me by her best friend’s fishknife fingernails and steel-eyed judgement, instructed, “Be Better.”
She told me things she’d never told anyone,
Then told me, “Remember me as you wish.”
So I cling to the fleeting memory of her perfume, yet am haunted nonetheless by her last words.
Dec 20, 2019
Dec 20, 2019 at 4:47 PM UTC
Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com
Algorithm, Algorithm, Algorithm, Bah, Bah, Bah
Parroting a trendy word is not art
So let’s stop babbling about “algorithm”
Lest we drop our readers into the lowest part
Of their 24-hour circadian rhythm
Oct 29, 2021
Oct 29, 2021 at 10:48 AM UTC
A city is nothing but a menagerie
caging different shades of insanity
dusty streets, concrete tombs, lingerie
costumes shooting up profanity
Here I stand
no shade of dignity
*** of cash in hand
shaded with apathy
Things I do with these creatures
in the concealing night
a spoon and a woman, double feature
finished and feeling contrite
Cross the bridge to leave the zoo
back to my normal life
conscience I must subdue
while I lay down next to my wife
I am sorry
I just miss the thrill
I am sorry
I just miss the feel
I am sorry
I just miss the comforts of the landfill
and the parroting comatose safaris
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 9:27 AM UTC
How do you pretend to say I love you?
How do you pretend to care at all?
To muster that much emotion must surely take its toll
On the body you inhabit
So cold and so precisely
Nicely
Packaged into a mirage of caring
Daring me to challenge each syllable of the words you mimic
Parroting Hallmark cards with heady persistence
I've built up resistance to the lies that sit and rise
Like smoke from the fires you light
On your way out the door
Warning all those who come after
The story is always the same
She loves you so much
"So, so much"
So much that she just can't stay.
Jun 27, 2016
Jun 27, 2016 at 3:29 PM UTC
With quiescence parroting
and an achromic sheet ensconcing your frame
the padre chants
only to ausculate your loved ones sniffle.
I watched you being buried.
deeper
and
deeper.
a friend, a brother, a lover and a son.
now,
Resting in an array of stars
waiting for the sun to rise in the
high northern sky.
-Khushi :’)
Jun 25, 2018
Jun 25, 2018 at 10:59 AM UTC
Dear Mr. One-In-A-Billion
I'm one of the billion
trying to get some of your billions
but I'm just part of the sum of your billions.
I'm the one in your pocket
with only ones in my pocket
avoiding guns and rockets
that came from your pocket.
You keep a gun to my head
by putting guns in my head
with the guns you have led
bringing guns to a head.
I became your captive
you're a velocicaptor commercial raptor
with a manner didactic
to mandate moralistic methods of capture.
When I ask you to stop
I'm thwarted by cops
when I ask you to go
I'm thwarted by no's.
You tell us to fly when you know that we're hurt
you say it's the sky when we know that it's dirt
you give us a tie when all we have is a shirt
until the day we die and no longer have worth.
You providers provide
petite provisions
then dastardly deride
demographic divisions
parading pride
parroting patriotism
but the parrots died
during the schism.
You don't trust me because of my bank account
I don't trust you because of your body count
you don't care because your banks can't be counted
I care too much because every body counts.
Monopoly is a boar's game
the banker controls the board
the banker determines the gored
and property determines the score.
For equality we must equalize our equity
and make austerity analogous to antiquity
allowing annihilation of our antipathies
so we can delete deficit driving deficiencies.
We need charity baked into the system
so parity will be caked onto our vision
so we can stop worrying about cheddar
and give our cheese to the beggars
but you're the only baker around
with a shop full of dough
that you throw into the oven
to feed us sugarcoated lies.
Please stop feeding us tryptophan
through avenues like Instagram
or other similar brands
infecting culture with a businessman
until we're business ******
except for a select few
one of whom is you
and your billionaire brood.
Jul 23, 2023
Jul 23, 2023 at 6:46 PM UTC
I don’t have any last words that aren’t interrupted by one parroting my father’s belief that god was a temp. had it been hell and not hell abandoned when it began to grow in our minds. as created, satan couldn’t live with himself. without piecing together how it fell into his lap, we found his umbrella, it wouldn’t open, and we did our rain dance on the earth.
Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 10:35 AM UTC
silence is a
distant bird
at the back
of my throat
daring to fly away
conversation
is a broken
winged dove
wishing to soar
yet never getting away.
Mar 7, 2018
Mar 7, 2018 at 2:23 PM UTC
That person you saw,
The one you greeted,
You looked into his eyes
Hoping to see
everything you knew.
He was not there.
Only a vague notion
Parroting the requisite words,
Without conviction.
This automaton that stomps
the tar to get from A to B,
Isn't really going anywhere.
The conversations we had
Never took place,
Just phantom dialogues.
Recall them, if you can.
I've been gone for so long.
Unable to return.
Nov 29, 2016
Nov 29, 2016 at 10:40 AM UTC