"swindler" poems
a swindler, sneaky yet gentle,
disguised as an island in the Mediterranean,
i think i may have left my heart there
in the pale limestone and the hissing
accents and the sun oozing into my skin
i wonder if there grows a garden of hearts,
from tourists wandering stumbling
onto late night buses on the coastlines
whose hearts have found a second home
under the limestone ribs
a botanical garden of our blood pumping organs,
what would it say on my description?
a gentle harvest, grown with 5 days
and mitski's pink in the night
and the waitress's soft smile
on the lantern lit streets of valletta
now i'm home, heartless, and yet
sickeningly longing for you,
a thief, a monster, to steal it again
Jun 17, 2019
Jun 17, 2019 at 10:15 AM UTC
Gracefully over the squares, as a blonde or a brunette,
she makes moves that not even a queen can imitate.
Always active and taking the initiative,
she likes to fork.
She does it across the board,
taking with ease not only pawns, but also kings,
and a bad bishop or two.
Sometimes she feels like making
quiet moves,
at other times, she adopts romantic moods,
and makes great sacrifices.
But, being hers a zero-sum game,
she often forks just out of spite.
An expert at prophylaxis, she can be a swindler,
and utter threats,
skewering men to make some gains.
Playing with her risks a conundrum,
and also catching Kotov’s syndrome.
Nonetheless, despite having been trampled
by her strutting ways
my trust in her remains,
unwavering,
until the endgame.
Oct 1, 2010
Oct 1, 2010 at 1:37 PM UTC
**Deception wearing the mask
of a kind face sowing dreams,
roamed for too long these towns,
around the globe,
that erupted with mortal force,
deciding at last enough is enough.
moneybags having stone faced elegance,
in place of heads, travel in their stretch limos
in the company of swindler princes,
wizards in money juggling
at the foyers of seven star hotels,
where the false suns dawn
at sunset blackening out truth,
they stepped to the tunes
holding hands of power,
the beauty without a heart
goes around with the plastic mask
that transforms according to the stage.
they who charm you with
glib talk and usurp power,
at favorable climes
jump upon unsuspecting
hotel maids, like
resurrected ghosts of vampires.
Every street is dark
with heaped carcasses
of hopes, birds died
at their flight, in ways mysterious,
falling in thousands,
in front of the stunned faces,
of lovers, husbands, wives,
families are looking distress
on the face, every passing day.
The octopus sitting at his
secret castle in water pulls string,
continues winning spree,
as no one raise their voice.
Not any more;
the waves of people,
seething with anger would lash,
against the citadels of evil empires.
The rebel forces have their cause,
this war, the eruption of masses,
will gather momentum, they won't lose.**
Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 10:24 AM UTC
Rising from the darkness,
the evergreen dilemmatic soul
waking from the displeasures
bound by reluctance.
And slowly it slithers
upon the filth in life
only to fall back
into the reverie.
Disgraced eminence,
of this priceless concoction.
Enigmatical views,
but doomed by nature.
Born to change,
with time , with people.
To stay phlegmatic
as it writes its own destiny.
Dreams of falling into
the lap of luxury
like any ordinary soul.
But with a hint of transgression.
No robotic means,
just emulation.
Pulled by the ties of
prevalence.
Swindler of identity,
benevolent of jauntiness.
Passes through many loops
of croquet.
Yet saves its inscrutable soul
from the disrespectful world.
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 1:07 AM UTC
A ***** allergy to cast me out of Hell
A sneezing like coming from the brain
Nine times in a row as I left her in the snow
For something I'd lost
A long, long time ago.
The girl was sick and pregnant; sweating and sore
Her doctor was a humble, kindly man
He often drew on marijuana
Left her on the table
And left God to decide
Upon the sinews to reveal
Better not to propagate the table
Not to operate.
The swindler has a most convincing way
With your children well before they're born
He's in your pocket before your first ********
Bleeds your first wife's last abortion.
And sings on high it's time to fly
Time to leave the foster mother's frigid icy nips
Write off your wan crapulous ten year plan
Tom no more like tigers on the tactile plain
But join the orphanage in its raw and biting pain
Time to go back to a savage civility
That crucifies the sane with kid gloves and contempt
Chanting bold and blasphemous and oh, so democratic!
When Christ was always my dictator
Jul 14, 2013
Jul 14, 2013 at 6:10 PM UTC
You elected a crazy person
For most of the offices.
You applauded a dictator.
And that is just what he is.
You cheered for a proven liar.
And failed to fact check him.
You voted for a misogynist
And against all of the women.
You elected a bankrupter
To handle all of our money.
You voted for an adulterer.
And seem to find that funny.
You voted for a cheat and liar
And ignored the facts against him.
You trusted a major swindler
Won’t vote him back to the pig pen.
You pretended he was a businessman
When his businesses mostly failed.
You ignored all his crimes in office
When he should have been jailed.
You made your stupid excuses
And stayed home instead of voting.
You listened to Fox and Breitbart;
Shared the crap they were quoting.
May 25, 2017
May 25, 2017 at 6:30 PM UTC
I reside in shallow desires,
That have burned to ashes,
A mere swine swindler and a mime,
Are my traits to define,
Exhibiting aimlessness,
I watch the stars align,
And for God to show me a sign,
Like a River sullen in misery,
Knowing it will have to fit In a pond,
I besiege my reach,
And so I preach,
My heart to not have it's way,
Now as a pond,
I reside without a say.
Oct 11, 2024
Oct 11, 2024 at 4:16 PM UTC
Quiet compliance to daylight, loud taunts of haunted night
Demons which crawl, scratches on walls
Darkness the swindler, light the betrayer
Heart knocking, knocking, knocking
Breaths heaving, heaving, heaving
CRACK
Mind, decaying floorboards, one step collapse
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 4:23 AM UTC
I wanted to be witty and sly
or dare I say without trepidation
trailer park brilliant and loose
as they stood forlorned and tired
soaking in the rain before me
but I had little or close to nothing at all.
The look on those grey faces
heavily stunned, vacant and lost
almost as if the very eye itself
were pacing down the hallway alone
as if things were registering
without having registered at all.
Reaching down deep and wide
farther, broader and well beyond
the sea of black in my heart at the time
I gathered and mustered at a very low decibel
the only few words or thoughts
electable on such a grave night.
“Ladies and Gentlemen of the Low Lands.
I… Cornelius Appleton, bid you good night!”
Just fifteen words spoken out loud
on the pier that night above the water
heard by those in and of the crowd
each and every word offered insincerely
against little or no resistance at all
from the natives, their neighbors and kin.
Then turning I left- no faster then normal
going, never to return in time or space
or to be heard from again in truth
hence forth just a shadow of a thought
of a man once there and in the know...
now gone without explanation or conclusion.
However, during the shifting doldrums of many nights
awakening- from the eternal springs of sleep
I see those faces and I hear their thoughts
and I recollect the dreams they had- of tomorrow
because it was I who lit them into fire
then smiled as they rose away in smoke.
In the bitter end when the day closed
neither I nor they in any way, fashion or shape
were any more grandiose, evolved or pleased
for having run the race that we all ran together
but that race was run, it’s true and it’s in the books
perhaps in the future- we can run it again.
Mar 24, 2010
Mar 24, 2010 at 2:03 PM UTC
Among mankind's best—
Brave, courageous
Heroes who do no harm
Assuaging our fear
With fellow feeling and care
Amidst viral strains' stealthy swarm
Among mankind's worst—
Mean, dastardly
Zeros who do know harm
Stoking pandemic fear
Scamming the unsuspecting ear
With a smiling swindler's charm
Heroes & Zeros
Best and worst of mankind—
What a dichotomy!
We'll keep hoping instead
For a bright future ahead
Daily coping with anxiety
© 2020 by Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
Apr 12, 2020
Apr 12, 2020 at 10:47 PM UTC
Now haunted by the Spirit of song and dance,
I am alone in the gloom of my defeat.
Once a poor prey to burning fits of vanity,
Now cast out with black wings of rebellion,
A garment of violence and a crown of pride.
The sky grew dimmer,
Bright lights of divine release and relief
Now forgone,
Sparkling golden roads and pearl white gates
Now behind me.
With no untold strange angst,
All the world knows of this deeper impulse given
to me by loneliness.
Once a beautiful body, now bent back like a
Paper clip.
Bright and Morning Star I am no more.
A fallen angel with an objective:
I am the Swindler of Divine Romance.
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 1:26 PM UTC
Don't call Trump a chimpanzee.
Chimpanzees can't talk.
Don't call him a pile of ****
A pile of **** can't walk.
Don’t call Trump an Orange
That would be indiscreet.
You see, different from an orange
Trump is in no way sweet.
Don’t call Trump a swindler
Take his fat *** to court
Because when he needs proof
He will always come up short.
Don’t accuse him of bribery
Unless you have the proof.
He’ll just change his residence
To another unlisted roof.
Don’t call him a squanderer.
He’s not if it’s his money.
Trump likes stealing from other people
He finds that hilariously funny.
Don’t accuse him of gross lechery
He feels that is his right.
Don’t appeal to Trump’s conscious.
He doesn’t have one quite.
Don’t expect Trump to speak the truth.
He doesn’t know what that is.
When they were passing out ethics
He was off taking a wizz.
Don’t whine to us about that ****
And how he disappoints.
He’ll claim you heard him wrong
And that is his only point.
Don’t hope everything will work out
In any way in your favor.
Doing what’s right for regular folk
Is not Donald Trump’s flavor.
Don’t look for anyone in authority
To rescue you from the dump.
And, of course, most of all
Don’t call Trump.
May 27, 2017
May 27, 2017 at 11:29 PM UTC
The string on the kite spool is made of doll hair
Mincemeat pies
Someones trying to get my goat
It's the stutterer with a broken nose trying to read aloud
"Ch ch ch choo choo choose yo yo yo your battles"
"A a a and d d d don't le le le let any any any anyone fi fi fi ffff fight them for for for for you"
I'll give it to him, it must of taken a lot for him to muster up enough guts to do that
There was a sign the said "Canebreaks" do they mean sugarcane or a rattle snake? I'm not going to check it out both are bad for my health
Over on the other side of the park is a hot blooded swindler
He's selling provisions
Tiny morsels of food for outrageous prices
For anyone with a dormant and insatiable appetite and no concept of money
He's bound to find someone who will take him up on his offer sooner or later
Over in the crowd I hear someone asking people to join her in a hostile take over or was it a harsh take down? Either way no one was into it
I'm not too sure she was either come to think of it, probably blowing off some smoke
Under the gazebo I see kids taking something
I guess sweaty foreheads that sheen and quavering ligaments are just modern ingredients to coming of age
But is couch lock necessary?
Now I'm face to face with my fifth grade teacher
She's got tenure now
She's barefoot and has a dour look on her face
I can feel that she's tired of the same day in day out life she lives
But I guess there's no way of knowing for sure
Oh no, someones got a gun
There is always "That Guy"
Everyone runs, scatters
Moms pick up their children and run to their cars with their husbands right behind them
The drunks stumble, bumping into one another
Only when danger is near do you see how nimble and limber people can be
The gunman scales the chain link fence and fires of a few rounds and shouts, "I DON'T GIVE A **** IF THIS DOESN'T FIT THE ALLOTTED TIME SLOT!"
"ALL OUR CUMULATIVE SCORES ARE MISGIVEN AND THOSE WHO HAVE DESECRATED OUR VOWS WILL BE OVER TURNED!"
"IT'S A RACE TO THE OTHER SIDE AND IT'S FIRST TO THE FINISH!"
He put the nose of the gun to his face and pulled the trigger
His brains dangled on the chain link fence
Why did I have to over shoot the turn and wind up at this weird *** picnic/fair/festival/bloodbath thing?
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 1:14 PM UTC
Steps steep of swindler's confession
A monstrous sleep that Pike's definition
Chard broil eggs on a winter of sleep
Jul 25, 2015
Jul 25, 2015 at 8:33 AM UTC
This bad man has robbed his neighbors
This bad man won’t pay his bills
This bad man prefers to bankrupt
Then he takes off to the hills.
This bad man is just a loudmouth,
Never means a thing he states.
If you think he's going to come across
Just go someplace and wait.
Ain’t going to take this guy much longer
Ain’t going to stand his crap no more.
It’s time to put him in a prison cell
And then loudly slam the door.
This man has ******* the country,
Then he quietly gets more rich.
If you think he is our savior
You’re one stupid son of a *****
He will lie and cheat and swindle
And then laugh into your face.
When it comes to decent people
He is just a big disgrace.
If you don’t call the cops on him
He thinks you are a fool.
He figures just like him you all
Just ate your lunch in school.
Ain’t going to take this guy much longer
Ain’t going to stand his crap no more.
It’s time to put him in a prison cell
And then loudly slam the door.
This man has ******* the country,
Then he quietly gets more rich.
If you think he is our savior
You’re one stupid son of a *****
This bad man has hired his yes men
Thieves just as much as him.
With nobody to put his *** in check
Our future is gray and dim.
This bad man is just a swindler
He was born without a heart.
He's always cared what he can get
And has right from the start.
Ain’t going to take this guy much longer
Ain’t going to stand his crap no more.
It’s time to put him in a prison cell
And then loudly slam the door.
This man has ******* the country,
Then he quietly gets more rich.
If you think he is our savior
You’re one stupid son of a *****
Jul 8, 2018
Jul 8, 2018 at 10:01 PM UTC
it’s a Lincoln penny love,
a Washington dollar,
an Eisenhower dime,
or is it a Roosevelt?
a Jackson twenty,
‘what’s money?’
its the scratch, the dough,
some cheddar
fifty cent, hell bent,
greenbacks,
smackeroonies, baby
‘daddy?’
a buck darlin’,
a Hamilton,
a ***
some Franklins,
a hole in your pocket
‘in my pocket?’
a deuce, some beans,
some jingling nickels,
rocks in the bank,
a stack in the kitchen
‘daddy, tell the truth’
its a diplomatic swindler,
an accidental cruelty
manufactured in holy casinos
called capitalism
‘I don’t know those words’
its a carrot that puts down riots,
fights, I mean,
a fortress of glitter and cyanide
we fight for and within through lonely
comas of obedience
‘let’s talk about something else’
its the mint that grew
in the temple of Juno,
goddess and protector of
the Roman state
‘I like mint’
me too
‘is money mint?’
money is minted,
so, kinda
‘but you can’t eat money
like mint
and you can't make tea’
that’s very true...
Apr 29, 2017
Apr 29, 2017 at 5:42 AM UTC
i'm a swindler,
a trickster,
a not-so-great pretender.
i live my life as an imposter
among the scholars that call themselves
my colleagues,
equals.
what achievements? pure luck
what success? just timing
was my effort ever as
earnest
as it could've, should've been?
Jul 6, 2021
Jul 6, 2021 at 1:13 PM UTC
Daring to say words,
Laughing thoughts cause tension,
Like jester's,
knighted into dreary stanzas and contortions
Where are all the mild men?
The one's who count for days
Who swindle the swindler,
The very breath of a man,
Is but...
Don't you?
See the target out there Charles?
Hit that and life will build you a shelter
Charles God has no shelter
No target to hit
Jul 15, 2019
Jul 15, 2019 at 7:54 PM UTC
Master of grass
Swindler of sounds
Keeper of secrets
King of the hounds
Best served chilled
Popping the ground
Schweeet like a lemon
Bam bam pow
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 6:41 PM UTC
In the end
I convinced myself
I wasn't worth the tears
~
So instead of crying
I smiled
~
And fooled them all
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 3:50 AM UTC
Growing tired and weary as the day groans on
For these days seem longer due to restless nights
You, My boy are in need of a pick me up
Appreciated offer but it would be irresponsible
To coax a mind that's already dwindling
I can't afford to lose it all
As a result of your persuasive swindling
So leave me be, petty swindler
But sir! It's my product that'll help you forget her
'Her' is gone and I've made piece with that
So take your bad habits and just leave it at that!
Dec 25, 2015
Dec 25, 2015 at 9:04 PM UTC
I’m sitting on the swings one night,
Beside my friend, who’s ****** on coke.
He spilled the usual complaints,
And so of those complaints we spoke.
“How do I get her to speak to me?”
“How long do you last in bed?”
“Why is it so hard to make them ***
“Wish I lived like you instead.”
This mighty man; a stockbroker,
A swindler with no pride to steal,
But as his friend, I felt for him
And sung my praise of lifes appeal.
Unbeknowst to him however,
Behind every word was stuck
An unintended ego boost
From hearing I’m the better ****
And so I learned that fateful night
Inside I’m no more than a creep.
A **** puddle of arrogance,
Though only really half as deep.
Aug 27, 2018
Aug 27, 2018 at 10:58 AM UTC
I’m over here spending twelve stupid years
Becoming a parrot who repeats what she hears
It’s not for the learning, it is for the grade
So I turn off my brain seven hours a day.
I’m wasting, I’m wasting, I’m wasting my time
Even that phrase is a waste of a line
And I’m sick of all of these definitions
Pressing on in, getting marked in red pen—
What am I doing here?
You convinced me there’s answers for everything,
Unvarying, black-and-white lettering,
Supposedly bettering, more like you’re fettering
Me like a prisoner, mental inhibitor
Wish you were valuable, you little swindler,
I’ll play your game, ‘cause that’s all that it is,
A paper to frame, that is all that I get
But if I’m wasting away at this desk,
Forced in the system, then I’ll be the best.
Sep 4, 2024
Sep 4, 2024 at 3:35 PM UTC
There aren't a lot of ways I can't describe when I'm with you, those few ways are special, passionate and incredibly loving, it just wouldn't be right if I gave you anything less
I'd consider you to be the ultimate swindler, because you didn't just steal my heart..
You convinced me to take it right out of my body and hand it to you because you'd treat it right.
You're the epitome of beauty. I have to find new words just to describe you because they just aren't enough strong enough ones to describe how I feel
My mind frequently, no constantly bounces from thought to thought. Somehow they always land right back at you
This is for you, and only you
Jan 9, 2018
Jan 9, 2018 at 9:25 AM UTC
No.o.o one!
No one including father and mother will do more than their best.
They may only throb laziness out of us when we choose to follow the **** to its coop at dusk.
Yes, they will correct us when we deny hawker's tray or left their stall to play with folk.
But who should we reproach first, the colonial masters or God for our failure?
Who should we blame first, our head or this tattered land we found ourselves?
Who is guilty for our ignorance and those lost souls in the wilderness of evil,
Our teachers, our adulterated culture or our country elders?
Who should we throw stone at first,
Our frail mind or Satan, for falling prey to swindler's induction?
Let us blame ourselves,
Blame thyself for making hay when the sun set.
Blame thyself for denying yourself a second birth.
Blame thyself for snoring in the refuge of laziness.
Blame thyself for dying thousand death again and again.
Where our problem begins is from our hands, our mind, and what we accept not to live without.
Dec 8, 2018
Dec 8, 2018 at 1:41 PM UTC