Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Yenson Aug 2018
When we finish with you
you won't know who you are..........

Hey, Mr and Mrs Salt  of the Earth
of Majority Wins Avenue, Socialist Estate
Wigan and George Orwell Park
Red City London

do you want to hear something
please give me a bit of your time

I know I am not a white thief
I don't go breaking into my neighbour's house
and stealing from them

I know I am not a drunkard
begging borrowing and stealing
so I can get wasted and drunk again

I know i am not a liar or bands of liars
who go around destroying innocents reputation
slandering and vilifying to cover my tracks

I know I am not an envious jealousy ridden inadequate
throwing mud and obnoxious falsehoods to damage
an innocent person good name and character

I know I am not a psychotic sadist degenerate
getting neurotic satisfaction from causing pain
and distress to another

I know I am not a weakling and a lily-livered coward
a back-stabber and a faceless ***** who is an anodyne
bully incapable of face to face confrontation

I know I am not a shriveling gutless wimpy poltroon
hiding in a gang of samenesses  engaging in a shameless
war against one man

I know I am not an uneducated or semi-illiterate half-wit
riddled with ignorance, prejudices, bigotry and ill-thoughts
notion without rational validation

I know I am not a wanton hedonist who is unable to resist
satisfying lust or seeking pleasures regardless of more
pressing responsibilities

I know I am not a two faced hypocrite, a fraudster or cheat
who misappropriated and behaves without conscience or
considerations about others

I know I am not a cheap, small minded, vengeful, hateful
and irrational follower who joins other like-minded fools
in a unjust and unfair actions and deeds

I know I am not a wicked, perverse, heartless, soulless, cold
and pitiless damaged human who acts without measure,
compassion or due consideration

I know I am not a sneaky, conniving, twisted, disingenuous
sadistic, cowardly conspiratorial plotter who acts with others
of same kith to cause hardship, pain, sufferings to another human
unnecessarily

I do know That I believe in hard work and earning a living honestly and when I had the opportunity that was what I did
I did not steal from anyone and then blame my bad choices
on them

I do know that I treated everyone I came into contact with
or related with fairly, on merit, without prejudice, sincerely, honestly and with due respect, except if they are house burgling
drunkard, wastrels, anti-social and Racists neighbours.


So dear Mr  and Mrs Salt of the Earth, friends and Defenders
of Crooks, Burglars and All with nefarious activities, wrong-doers and the Shameless

I do know at least that I am not any of the noted above, if this
thus mean exclusion from your Union and banishment from life,
I accept my sentence..........  

I thank you for reading


P.S.  Please feel free to come and **** what's left of ME!!
292

If your Nerve, deny you—
Go above your Nerve—
He can lean against the Grave,
If he fear to swerve—

That’s a steady posture—
Never any bend
Held of those Brass arms—
Best Giant made—

If your Soul seesaw—
Lift the Flesh door—
The Poltroon wants Oxygen—
Nothing more—
Yenson Sep 2018
The Marshmallows decided to have a top Party
Dressed gaily in white, pink, red, green and yellow
They mingled and floated around looking arty-farty
We're going to dance in town not partying in a garage
And guess what, We won't invite Toffee he's not like us

Go melt and burn says Toffee with rightful disdain
who wants to party with a bunch of soft silly buffoons
Overblown and presumptuous you lot melt in the rain
Nothing to you all but egging and hot air you poltroon
Who wants to dance with mixed up softies with no brains

I am Toffee hot and hard and always ready for the bite
You can't lick me in a hurry and I take a while to crack
I am brown with brawn and brains and ready to fight
Got rhythm with the moves, tastes and flavours top whack
Not some boring twirls or stumps gathered together tight

Come try me if you dare and see me squash you down flat
I'll go into you hard your softness yielding like knife on butter
Can marsh you with my strength till you're nothing but mellow
Or stick to your puffy wooly state and squeeze you still flatter
Till you beg and squeal your surrender showing you're shallow

I am not like you and don't think, see, look or taste like you
I am brown and sweet, hard and chewy and I really don't care
For emulsified vain brainless no substance marshmallow tools
Who can only be brave and big when all packed together like
So go party and kid yourselves softies I don't party with fools
gurthbruins Apr 2012
Through the laden flights of ***-stewed gulls -
Deepening in red rosaries to poltroon,
Contaminated by an urgent wish,
The sun-soaked merry bandits blew.

Each to each, and, mingling with that sweaty palm,
Dolorous eyes sad-greeted the fleeing dawn.
Pancreas then, the earth-girdled Titan swam,
Anon the rising tide to stem.

Dentist the night, repair to dance-floored beams,
And rising melodiously ever anew to pine,
Sweet ***** dreaming of her saw-toothed chemise
Saw the fine end to the upstart king.

Curtains swayed against my pearly doom
Not brightly was your plainting song
Palpitating in earthly measures anew
Or seeking once more the mighty to appease.

O David, in thy glance the silver moth did live
Long dawns. An enemy of the swordfish,
He menaced us so long. And now?
Sporadic is the demise of depth!

A silver sea, or rather a sea with a fine multitude of
silver points
Caressing my eyes like toothless counterpoint to the
stately blue.
It gave a floor to a weening being of prancing gait and
measured thighs.

She smiled.

And the sea broke and roared, as ever,
and I heard it once more.
I saw too the sky, which had sufficient blue.
  Cooled by the sea,
warmed by the setting rays and mild air, the body
luxuriated in perfect
temperature.  She did not smile, but perhaps she did..
My body, I mean.

We came away, from there, as from all places to meet
another need.
of darkness and quiet.  Foamed the elements of slaking
portions of
mysterious
substance.  Surrendered to the moving body without
real life.
  Borne along on a
stream of liquid desire residing in another's
breast.
  Relinquishing her to a
perfect nothingness like lead or caviare.
        Oh, and who awaited me?  She was imprisoned
but beautiful
and I thought
quite happy.  I don't think she even wanted to come
to me,
or so it seemed.  But she was happier too outside,
in the waning sun.
  Mainly she had been safe and free.
     And there's an end of this day, which roamed
whither it would,
for I did not attempt to chain it.  Now I flee it.
Swasti Jain Feb 2017
" Poltroon " she cried,

While her knuckles were white with rage.
Perturbed,  she was while her father passed away.

Solitude, she chose while earthlings left her dejected, like a stray.

Erratic, were those times when she decided to unravel the intricate stories of life and not get bewrayed.

Lost, she was in the absolute beauty of the cosmos waiting for someone at the bay.

Soon, she realized that a lifeboat would never come her way.

" You're a stalwart , get up and find your own way ".

Much did she know, rest she deciphered.

And found herself flying in the sky of aplomb,  like a mockinjay!

                                        - Swasti Jain
Tree Bear May 2013
So pick up the scissors and cut it the **** out!
Then take a stick and knock it the *******.

Alright, all done?

Are you ready for a conversation consisting of truth?
Or does that concept still, somehow, confuse you?

For years I've been fighting a battle with the cowardice in you!
And now, after all of it, I have more emotional involvement in my shoe.
No, scratch that, not in my shoe...
Because that dog **** I stepped in last week, has more integrity than you.

Fidelity, do you know what that is?
Egregious, do you know that word exists?
How about 'low life ***** *******'?
Oh, meaning got through.
Allow me a moment to adjust my vocabulary for you.

You're a coward. A snail. A waste of my time and space.
A blister, throbbing pustule on the *** of the human race.
You have never been loyal.
You're robbing me of my youth.
The worst part is, I see myself becoming like you.

I admire the way you avoid the subject.
The method you use to crawl out of the line of fire.
Throwing others in front of the bus so you don't hit the tires.
That's right, its all their fault, duh.
You really think I'm that ******* stupid, huh?

Well. *******.You're a ******.
A *******, class A.
A dissapointment, A nebbish, A poltroon, A quitter and recreant.
Someone I should have never given a second glace.
I mean it.

I'd be a liar if I didn't admit.
I regret the last four years of this ****.
I'd be ******* stupid to stick around for more of this.

I give your life meaning? Purpose?
If that's true I hope you're crushed by my indifference.
Elemenohp Dec 2010
The morning came to my surprise,
as I woke again, with salty eyes.
Cool chills and air, fill up my room,
This could be the cause of my rheum.
I am unwilling to leave my warm cocoon,
You may portray me as an unwilling poltroon.
Wake, rise, absorb some sunshine,
I'll give today the impression, I will consign.
Bored, morning. no reason to be awake, yet sleeping in would have been a mistake.- From Improvising.
T R S Jun 2018
I bet folks just don't like me:

Ryan Rivière:
hey, kid. DM me if you’d like to lose in either a wit war or an academic war. ready when you are.

Ryan Rivière › take head
Lacks a clear (but a poltroon-like optimism) principality of the nature of nature: nature itself is a bully (take note of the many catastrophic events incurred) and one might argue to the degree which humans are actually less of a bully when personified against nature.

Woody:
A caw-
ing bird
with blunt
-ed beak
and clip-
ped wings
that can’t fly
or sing
worth a lick
-ety split
always
pick-
ing and peck
-ing a-way
at the best
chirp-
ing inside
a chest
-full of
beat-
ing Blue
-birds'
heart-
felt art
-tistic
songs in-
stead
of sing
-ing along
think-
ing it
knows better
than
- the rest?
Julian Jun 19
Galloping glum on desecrated pourparlers of gravid gravity sawed  in half by limped levity
That awestruck moonshot apartheid Count Dracula nyala blood thirst finicky in mafficking celebrity
Dawdling on the moors of transcendentalism a scarlet hue surdomute poisons a stilted amphigory View Askew
Repartees for four scores seven games profaned starlet girdles of regaled tails on coin flipped casualties a shibboleth for reneged Jews
Crosswalk henpecking ironhanded regimes flickering blockbusters a bend diseased etch-a-sketch orchestras brook degrees of foibles of mistral breeze
Tempestuous haunts of profound savants sidling gallantly between the venom and the squeeze to postulate a notion of time to which time itself agrees
As the quizzical stampede traipses with the apish notions of Cape Cod capers lapsed by bonfires started by the Minneapolis Lakers the ground shakes groovy with primordial Quakers
Retinues of Amish famished slaking jaundice slipshod with guffaws awash rakish with Point Break's henchmens heyday shading shadier acres
Times contumely a backbitten loan shark the esquire of a tomb desolate with spray can doom segued into sparkplug rooms spiraling into vertigo for varsal probability of crackjaw croon warbling loony and always too soon
The honesty of revelry sagging under encumbered dawdles a Bain Capital poltroon slaloms around iceblinks of every FANGed tune
lopsided in baragnosis whitewashed by hypnosis watching the wretched dial blemished by heliosis such that the jejune tautology becomes precocious
As a matter of fact besieged by a Massive Attack the spavined of the slugabed slore of whack-a-mole tact develops retrograde cirrhosis
Bleeding from contumacy widowed by the stulm of stannary lunacy we skelder for shelter as wilted whangams jostle in welter
Clockwork genocide hapless by pavonine notions of ivory towers in division about divisible divide multiplied by iracund notions of skeletal sweat in Canada dry swelter
As the bygones of stanhope meet the tympany of stanzas churches gilded with hypaethral avarice are riveted by Potemkin bonanzas
Wooded woonerf jackanapes blesboks warbling on corrugated provenance postulating allodic vultures outnumbering famished bamboozled pandas
In search of pillory never alpenglow we embroider a seed sown out of love a semaphore of walnut-brained eyesore
A dizzy vertiginous dance of Gavin Rossdale mainlining bellarmine barkentine vicissitude rather than happenstance using jawholes immiserated Six Pence All the Poorer
The macular degeneration of kenspeckel sensibility wilting on the laxism of pulverized verve of racecar swerve might the doggy crapulence survive the days of desiccated herb in a time that teetotalers "Shout" the word
That in every zoo the monkey business of the flock is cretaceous enough to rock the chockablock crotaline specter of the Raging Bull in an enthusiastic herd
All is a pittance to renewal in the revalorization of nimiety in a time of the tyranny of nihilism itself absurd
Lawrence Hall Oct 2022
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com  
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                                 The Ballot Lay Before Me Like a Snake

The ballot lay before me like a snake
Or like a Klansman predatory in white
Slithering across the official page
That same old roster of the same old

Democrats
Republicans
Greens
Libertarians

That same old Unwanted List of ideologues  
Of plotters, scroungers, graspers, creepers, oafs
Aliases, scofflaws, incompetents
Poltroons

(I’m not sure what a poltroon is, but they are poltroons anyway, so there)

Ignoramuses, bigots, and bubbas in bad wigs
Best fitted for those old post office walls
Incapable of self-government, not to be trusted
With firearms, sharp objects, pointy scissors, or glue

(But those topics were not on the ballot)

The ballot lay before me like a snake
Or like a Klansman predatory in white
Slithering across the official page –

I gave it back as blank as the candidates
(summarily iterated June 30th, 2020)

I share the following lines
with utmost delight
courtesy 20/20 hindsight
June twenty ninth
two thousand and twenty

corrigible, fallible,
and intelligible light
hearted fella (aging
baby boomer) usually polite
doth not trend toward
superficial nor trite.

Ostrich with wordplay
(mine metaphorical putty) enjoys
shape shifting rules
of English language
never knowing literary
endeavor (mine) outcome
unpredictable as wind
doth form sand dune
farfetch'd physique

peculiarly genetically hewn
no avian expert, yet
sports wide whirled
webbed analogous to loon
yours truly at heart,
an honest to dog poltroon
acquired pipes, whereat
ofttimes I sing out of tune.

No idea when predilection arose
to toy with said mother tongue
frequently buzzfeeding me passion
I rend toward proclivity
maketh anonymous reader to doze
gibberish spews gobbledygook
gushing out imaginary hose
frequently diverging off course

pertaining to poem title
which (reading between
the roaring lines) here
sought to delineate highs and lows
regarding squandered (particularly
linkedin with female)
friendship opportunities aye sip pose
jangling this beau zoe
from head to his toes.

I don't mean to engender pity
excruciatingly socially withdrawn
garnered alienation since birth
regarding human bonds, which dearth
all thru these three score years

athwart planet (unfit) ness Earth
pregnant around equatorial girth
found yours truly figuratively
tied to mother's apron string
I always felt safe and secure,

within home and hearth
even when Scottish welcome matt
yanked away by those who begot me,
now in retrospect ability
to muster mirth

within savage dime
a dozen verbal lashings
(courtesy mama and papa,
deceased and declining nonagenarian respectfully
ironically distills their overlooked worth.

Shying eye contact, I vaguely recollect
Matthew Scott Harris
as wee lad did disappoint
way back during second grade lunch
at Eagleville Elementary School,
a pretty girl christened Renee
(if memory serves me correctly)
induced writhing and foaming

incoherent sounds of silence
indubitably witnessed yours truly
an extremely shy boy
hiding behind makeshift barrier
(possibly tartan patterned lunchbox)
to avoid at all costs
painful penetrating piercing
inducing me to look askance.

As an extremely shy kid
(lacking benefit of powdermilk biscuits)
even briefest eye contact with lovely lass
sent extreme agitation
coursing thru measly frame
wreaking emotional/psychological distress

(visit repeated aforementioned
refrain ad nauseum)
recurring without letup
boyhood to young adulthood,
when within close proximity
attractive gal froze mine functionality
even with intent to exchange passing "hello."

Fast forward to recent past
i.e. namely second half of bleak existence
angst oozed and profusely did bleed,
when ability to bolster daring deed
communicating amorousness awkwardly freed
potential foolishness or embarrassment,
I shushed inner voice of amplified reason,
side stepping preservation,

aye did not heed
boot blurted out juvenile
barenaked lady desires indeed
spelling repugnance and
instant ruination against fulfilling
hormonal secretion need
wanting to escape utter fool hardiness
beating retreat (tail between legs)
ruffly with hasty dog speed!
Yenson May 2020
Vacuous things in empty gales dripping
shamed impotent poltroon cackling witlessly
take odious face away and lose thy name to a letter
even kidadult coward begs anonymity for inadequacy

Old lout in fanciful fare seeks Zen knowledge
oh see the mask and pretensions in the arena of harlequins
where acts and deeds unmask to confirm and disgrace the uber clod
our nonentity bully who ascribe Enlightenment whilst a dullard dark

The Narcissist mentalist presents tosh prolifically
in mindless puffs praised by acolytes and him in other guises
childish taunts and deluded piffle showcasing stunted academia
standing that peculiar trait of ignoramus incapable of introspection

Nichiren says though its impervious to bullies
That which you give to another will become your own
sustenance; if you light a lamp for another, your own way will be lit.
our faker zen knows this, methinks not as he's still in the play-ground

Lest it not to mock the afflicted or crippled mind
but to remind that, "Cowardice and Hypocrisy are brothers
Born from Self-Interest, Insecurity and Fear " this a sanguine fact
Our under-endowed zenist (sic) knows hence the facelessness  and abbreviated identity




Do not do shameful things to make yourself hide in shame.....
Worthy persons deserve to be called so because they are not carried away by the eight winds: prosperity,decline,disgrace,honor,praise,censure,suffering, and pleasure.They are neither elated by prosperity nor grieved by decline. The heavenly gods will surely protect one who is unbending before the eight winds.
tonight October  25th, 2022
terrifically summarily requoting

poetic outdated iteration,
I share the following lines
echoing in the valley
of love and delight.
courtesy 20/20 hindsight
October twenty fifth
two thousand and twenty two
admirable, corrigible, fallible,
and intelligible light

hearted fella (amazingly
gracefully aging
baby boomer) usually polite
doth not trend toward
superficial nor trite,
neither can yours truly
said to abide by beliefs, ethos
ideologies, et cetera notions characterized
as distinctly black and white.

Ostrich (I stretch) literary creativity
with Rhea yule wordplay
(mine metaphorical putty) enjoys
shape shifting rules
of English language
casting them bon voyage
analogous to loosing a hot air balloon
never knowing literary
endeavor (mine) outcome
unpredictable as wind
doth form sand dune

farfetch'd jimmied physique
peculiarly genetically hewn
no avian expert, yet
sports wide whirled
webbed analogous to loon
yours truly at heart,
an honest to dog poltroon
acquired pipes, whereat
ofttimes I (a fool on the hill)
sing out of tune.

No idea when predilection arose
to toy with said mother tongue
frequently buzzfeeding me passion,
I rend toward proclivity
maketh anonymous reader to doze
gibberish spews gobbledygook
which kooky logophile doth expose,
where gobbledygook profusely flows
gushing out imaginary hose
frequently diverging off course

pertaining to poem title
which (reading between
the roaring lines) here
sought to delineate highs and lows
regarding squandered (particularly
linkedin with female)
friendship opportunities aye sip pose
jangling this beau zoe
from head to his gnarly
webbed whirled wide toes.

I don't mean to engender pity
excruciatingly socially withdrawn
garnered alienation since birth
regarding human bonds, which dearth
all thru these three score plus three years
athwart planet (unfit) ness Earth
teetering in the balance
pregnant around equatorial girth
found yours truly figuratively
tied to mother's apron string,
I always felt safe and secure,
within home and hearth
even when Scottish welcome matt

yanked away by those who begot me,
now in retrospect ability
to muster mirth
within savage dime
a dozen verbal lashings
(courtesy mama and papa,
the former long since deceased
and latter (upon original date of this poem)
declining nonagenarian respectfully
their sole male offspring
ironically now here at petticoat juncture
amidst swath of rolling green acres
during mein kampf
distills their overlooked worth.

Shying eye contact, I vaguely recollect
Matthew Scott Harris
as wee lad did disappoint
way back during second grade lunch
at Eagleville Elementary School,
a pretty girl christened Renee
(if memory serves me correctly)
induced writhing and foaming
incoherent sounds of silence
indubitably witnessed yours truly
an extremely shy boy
hiding behind makeshift barrier
(possibly tartan patterned lunchbox)
to avoid at all costs
painful penetrating piercing
inducing me to look askance.

As an extremely shy kid
(lacking benefit of powdermilk biscuits)
even briefest eye contact with lovely lass
sent extreme agitation
coursing thru measly frame
wreaking emotional/psychological distress
(visit repeated aforementioned
refrain ad nauseum)
recurring without letup
boyhood to young adulthood,
when within close proximity
attractive gal froze mine functionality
even with intent to exchange passing "hello."

Fast forward to recent past
i.e. namely second half of bleak existence
angst oozed and profusely did bleed,
when ability to bolster daring deed
communicating amorousness awkwardly freed
potential foolishness or embarrassment,
I shushed inner voice of amplified reason,
side stepping preservation,
aye did not heed
boot blurted out juvenile

barenaked lady desires indeed
spelling repugnance and con seeded
instant ruination against fulfilling
hormonal secretion need
wanting to escape utter fool hardiness
beating hasty retreat
(think tail between legs)
ruffly at thoroughly bred dog  
with mile a minute
tail a wagging uber speed!
Yenson Aug 2023
The Title of me is me and a title
not me entitled
harlequins aping disrespect are
thee without self-respect
waltzing in stunted dulled minds
they somersault in self-deciet
unable to atest or own
real equality is from thee sublime
to thou sublime unseasoned
the voiceless glory of reason et grace
unlike the blunt tools
the roosters who flare and pirouette
chicken wings agape
puffed in chicken dance ridicule
look y'all
we rule the roost around our cages
( perhaps till the Colonel from Kentucky arrives)

Who needs to prove aimless strength
but the weak et doubtfuls
who rattles the sabre but the poltroon
in his father's barrack
do cults print postage stamps et currency
when its merely a refuge
for similarly affected densed in private signals
hark ye go drink from wisdom's well
raging at Title is accepting your inferiority
your shadow boxing is confirmation
Dignity confidence self assurance and grace
will look you straight in the eyes
and say
I am civil and will treat you fairly and equally
and on merit  till you show me otherwise

But we know you cannot do as such
and how we laugh and indulge
for lacking in self respect and self assurance
the Title dominates your minds and spirit
and with little or no merit
all you can manage is puff out hollow chests
huffing and puffing
doing the chickens dance at the Republican Disco
in aid of the socially weak ******* maim and dumb
and confirming in all your intents and purposes
you can never be privileged
except only by others like you not by one as THEM....
Yenson Aug 2021
The chocolate brand dope
fizzes in piercing hurt
words had hit the raw nerves
the truth brought home
as the poltroon
he curses
projecting words so apt
as he owns them all
the dumb harlequin
who call the king a joke
find solace in lies
for the truth
has wounded the coward
a thorn in the limpid flesh
of a small thing
Yenson Aug 2020
hordes of ignominious losers untitled
all petulant and dull in manners and minds
we are the majority of buffoons and prime poltroon
in strike we march in unity not to read all things high brow
we hate them la di das and fragrant dandies with poise and lucre
from best schools tutored by best minds while we have chalk & slate
so in shame an ignorance and immature petulance we refuse to learn
Yenson Nov 2020
Shine the glitter truth of the glitter warrior
and right from the get-go
the gilders and scaffoldings fall down
in reveal lies the emasculated ego
and insipid inspirations of  the pernicious dullard
in the coatings of base subterfuge
a withering anodyne sits pontificating
whilst in real Alpha terms
its cool contextual considering's in realms
that power needs no proof in self assured credence
meaning No, I will not be a part of that
glitter warrior in ways of sub-standard hicks
leads the charge
at once a soldier with vacuous tales
been there, done that
at once the social man about town
been to concerts, smoked the **** and kissed the blonds
yeah! look at me I am the 'man'
while deeds and actions belies the truth
in ale posturing vainglorious displays immaturity screams
in unison with the poltroon browbeater
there's never a substitute for class
the well equipped assured measured alpha male
who knows there's more to me than meets the eye
I am not a chameleon but a well bred and seasoned male
I have nothing to prove to you
That's why in England, Officers comes from Middle class backgrounds, Eton to Oxbridge to Sandhurst
while our glitter soldier in glitter Truth is cannon fodder
and he'll go his whole life fighting petty battles
the asinine bully who knows all about truth
he's been there, he's done it and has the T-shirt
just ask his mom!
Yenson Dec 2020
truth possesses no iota of doubts
striking reasoning hotly they flee in raw
gutting lacerations
the Crudités Platters in biting vinegar
are uncaged
bearing chained bludgeons to sour palette
crude uncouth smashing down
riveting tasteful
as the masked dunces reads seventeen
but views a hundred and
eighty-nine stars
exposing the hereditary senseless of the
craven luddites
broken minds in broken spree spreading
satin sheets over the Pacific
to walk to freedom
hahaha hahaha hahaha lets laugh in empathy
they know no better
except the gleaming porcelain tiles on the floor
they were made
and on which they crawl
the poltroon soldiers of the blind platoons
of new age mice in rat-race race war

— The End —