"sycophant" poems
The teacher stands before her detained class
And from behind her authoritative podium
She equates abortion to the holocaust
A dangerous comparison in an educational garrison
But the other children nodded their heads in agreement
A benefit of having the ear of youth
Is being able to infect it with your own toxic ideology
What bacteria did this ear infection consist of?
Conservatism? Religiosity? Chastity?
The answer was depressingly simple
I was the only one there unaware of Fox News
I was a casualty of the confusion
The confusion engendered
By venom thoughts placing politic-colored glasses
on the entrenched masses
Entertainment
Used to convey anger and hate
Emotions worth conveying
But not living in
The intents and desires of their vulnerable receivers
become an incongruous disaster
What could I have done?
Minds as still as the pharaohs heart
We live in a society where we're all infantilized by one myth
Good and evil
Looking back on what I did do
I didn't do much
But I did do something
I didn't nod my head like a ******** sycophant
May 23, 2017
May 23, 2017 at 12:34 PM UTC
You’re a sycophant for a selfie.
selfish daily rants are of the plenty
up here.
(Up where?)
out there in the world wide-
who cares it’s everywhere.
There’s no room for you to hide.
so beware! and be wary of what you confide.
I’ve seen words on their heads and their intent on its side.
Your rambles are a gamble, every un-thorough thought
is a stance you take with pride
on something you were never taught.
Did you go find it out by yourself?
I doubt that. Just loud chat from those sat out around you
was enough to change your point of view. so will you choose?
Or will it not really be you? did you construe this opinion or did it construe yours?
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 1:11 PM UTC
slave is someone who does not have authority over their own lives slave is someone subservient controlled dominated by somebody something slave works very hard for little or no pay slave is property of somebody something slave is someone forced to obey
sycophant is someone servile who overly flatters more powerful individual for personal gain sycophant is bootlicker brown-noser fawner flunkey doormat lackey lap-dog yes-men parasite toad-eater (pause reposition) somebody possessed of excessive vanity may cultivate sycophant swarms
side by side they stand clothed in black not quite similar the one slightly taller possibly because the other suffers poor posture perhaps they are related because in odd way they appear alike or of same ilk yet upon closer scrutiny it becomes apparent they have very little or nothing in common the taller one with troubled sad eyes the other smiling obsequiously the taller one more muscular ***** from working menial labor the other with curved spine slumped shoulders because of undue bowing and crouching while blowing smoke up other people’s *****
sadist is someone who attains ****** gratification by inflicting physical pain shame to other people sadist is someone who delights in excessive cruelty degradation to others
********* is someone who achieves ****** pleasure from being hurt humiliated abused dominated punished often self-inflicted ********* is someone who enjoys being harmed misused mistreated ignored by others
sadomasochist is someone who gets ****** gratification by alternately or simultaneously enduring hurt causing pain to somebody else sadomasochist is combination of sadistic masochistic tendencies in someone who obtains ****** pleasure from inflicting submitting to pain cruelty
sycophant slave snakes up leg of movie actress dictator who gains pain through pleasure 2000 miles from equator IED cell phone detonator sycophant dilettante ***** up to sadistic art critic or publishing editor on escalator while below on main floor of shopping mall ice rink figure skater pirouettes bows to nominator surreptitiously bribed by infiltrator mutilator
Feb 27, 2011
Feb 27, 2011 at 4:38 AM UTC
Maieutic dreamer, the ecstatic euphorias of cerebral cortex’s ****** matrix are pandemic. Extravagant exorbitances of flirtatious flamboyance and flippantly flighty flit-ness. But what of stint-ness snities? Excruciating exacerbations of laboriously beleaguering hypercritically meticulous tediums. Synaptic syntax is fervently intense like a feral phrenic frenzied **** Ruminating humanity’s collective consciousness gives me hysterical deliriums. We’re frenetically febrile, atrociously impetuous impudents who don’t know our id conclusion from our impromptu innuendo juncture. And what of the organizational principles of our subconscious continuums? Do we only dream about dexterous articulation? Can we become the agile acuity we envision or do we wallow in the drifty drivel of dour droll’s dreary? What’s to phatic say about futurity fatidic’s forlorn wanton? We need chutzpah, moxie savvy’s panache. Is there no such thing as a universally acceptable ontological deontology? Probity is as obvious as due yesterday, ethology’s entelechy the omnipresent reward. Elan vital is not subjective, it’s objective. Explicating epiphanies of social contiguity’s prospectus so innate as to be irrefragable. Not perhaps the oligarchies of eclectic synectics, but perhaps the pugnacious audacities of emote to exude aimed imbue. Assay relay’s convey, foray delay purveys inveigh. Perhaps if we are all cogently fecund with our vituperatively vociferous the holocaustial cacophony of our obstreperously abstruse will be just what the grotto grouch gumption ordered. Infusing all with the capability of aspiring to higher powers and yet not forgetting the mystery of self and others. I know I know what an ingratiating sycophant on the introjection. Gambits of alluvium aloof impunity when we all know immunity is Epicurean absurdity, but I already covered that on the phrenic aimed holocaustial cacophony. Seriously of we all enunciate so on the diction of mesomerism's to punctual. Why can’t that be the essence of accidence ambience acoustics, the arbitrational attenuation of actuator's aorist. We are not ethereal, we are corporeally preternatural and the sooner we all learn to respect each other to that the sooner we can get down to the sublimely surreal in oneiromancy’s apotropaic panaceas.
May 29, 2019
May 29, 2019 at 11:35 AM UTC
I'd rather be
less opportune
than being
your sycophant
Because
its not you
Who is the author
of my story.
I'd rather
walk alone
than being a part
of this blind haste
Because
its not them
Who is the arbiter
of my struggling journey.
I'd rather fly far
than flying high
Because now
its me
who is the ruler
of my destiny.
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 3:02 PM UTC
I had a boss
When I worked,
A black-hearted sycophant
We'll call Bert.
There was no escaping
From this ****
Unless Daddy'd sheathed
Before his squirt.
He was the smiling villain,
With a glad-handshake,
And a slap on the back:
One never knew of his scurrilous attacks
On reputation,
On self-esteem,
This viper slithered
In my Garden of Eden.
Apr 22, 2016
Apr 22, 2016 at 5:00 PM UTC
Maieutic dreamer, the ecstatic euphoria of cerebral cortex’s ****** matrix is pandemic. Extravagant exorbitances of flirtatious flamboyance and flippantly flighty flit-ness. But what of stint-ness snities? Excruciating exacerbations of laboriously beleaguering hypercritically meticulous tediums. Synaptic syntax is fervently intense like a feral phrenic frenzied **** Ruminating humanity’s collective consciousness gives me hysterical deliriums. We’re frenetically febrile, atrociously impetuous impudents who don’t know our id conclusion from our impromptu innuendo juncture. And what of the organizational principles of our subconscious continuums? Do we only dream about dexterous articulation? Can we become the agile acuity we envision or do we wallow in the drifty drivel of dour droll’s dreary? What’s to phatic say about futurity fatidic’s forlorn wanton? We need chutzpah, moxie savvy’s panache. Is there no such thing as a universally acceptable ontological deontology? Probity is as obvious as due yesterday, ethology’s entelechy the omnipresent reward. Elan vital is not subjective, it’s objective. Explicating epiphanies of social contiguity’s prospectus so innate as to be irrefragable. Not perhaps the oligarchies of eclectic synectics, but perhaps the pugnacious audacities of emote to exude aimed imbue. Assay relay’s convey, foray delay purveys inveigh. Perhaps if we are all cogently fecund with our vituperatively vociferous the holocaustial cacophony of our obstreperously abstruse will be just what the grotto grouch gumption ordered. Infusing all with the capability of aspiring to higher powers and yet not forgetting the mystery of self and others. I know I know what an ingratiating sycophant on the introjection. Gambits of alluvium aloof impunity when we all know immunity is Epicurean absurdity, but I already covered that on the phrenic aimed holocaustial cacophony. Seriously of we all enunciate so on the diction of mesomerism's to punctual. Why can’t that be the essence of accidence ambience acoustics, the arbitrational attenuation of actuator's aorist. We are not ethereal, we are corporeally preternatural and the sooner we all learn to respect each other to that the sooner we can get down to the sublimely surreal in oneiromancy’s apotropaic panaceas.
Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 7:19 PM UTC
Exotic trollwood harlotry and mule kit blues
Tyrannical tyrannosaur traction padness
Cohort cavorts clastic and witch’s *** hues
Ontological ontogeny somatalogy fadness
Inductive endemic veracities and talus weather clues
Epistemological equilibrium’s homogeny badness
Timeless rhetorical ruminations and ephemeral exigency dues
Transcendent ascensional equivocal madness
Tactile acuity prescience capacity intrepid intrigues
Mystical symbiosis dharma sensorium sentiment proselyte
Torturous tractive prosthesis umbrage ultraism colleagues
Newfangled nocturnal nonchalant nether nestle neophyte
Top notch topography tortoise trauma fatigues
Faustian faux pas foist felicitous fealties socialite
Agnate nous ontological ontogeny euphenics in league
Mentalities evocative introjecting sycophant eulogizing apposite
Mystical terrestrial equestrian tellurian tableau
Panoramic imagery empiricist
Evocative exserted apomixies’ ethereal should show
Ontological somatalogy lyricist
Reflective refraction remissions opulence could know
Theosophy theophany epiphany equilibrist
Magniloquent inductive extrapolation quantum back ***
Transcendent nimbus nimiety exorcist
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 5:20 PM UTC
we've got to do a better job of getting lost in the relativity
**** your tooth fairy
...and suddenly i know things again
anthropologists taking notes
guttural longings
catharsis trailing down
but its delusion, soft swirls to the all
the source
we have now settled into the fortress
never seems like there was time
you are the clockwork
i am the pendulum
sycophant strange
the drywall notes
chanting
return to the what was that?
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 2:15 PM UTC
I like to think I'll find peace for me
resting beneath a sycamore tree.
I can't feel its roots burrow into my body,
sapping me of my strength.
No
No
No
No
No
Can't you see?
There is peace beneath this sycamore tree.
Look at how it shelters me
in the shade, so I can't see the sun.
No
No
No
No
No
What on earth are you telling me now?
This is just a simple sycamore tree
it is not acting sycophantically.
I'm not held down, it's protecting me.
No
No
No
No
No
*It wants your death to fertilize its growth.
You're rooted to the sycophantic tree.*
Just go, there is nothing here for you.
I'm corrupted, leave without me.
Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 9:32 PM UTC
Under a sullen, unloving sky,
Caught off guard by the searching rain,
She flees to shieldlike canopies.
A pilgrim on the path of shadow
Ever tethered to the flame.
Enslaved to the way of fire
Sycophant of the eternal blaze.
Condemned to spend the end of days
Wandering wastelands of the Sun,
Forever exiled from the shade.
In the darkness she would remain,
If only she would have her way.
Cocooned in shells of memory
Fogs of war,
Ill explained.
Though the forest chatter
Never quite sounds the same,
The pitter patter
Pauses,
Secrets encoded in the rain.
Her frail wings lay broken
Breath comes barely when spoken,
Offspring away upon the wind.
Though they took no time to notice
The darkness roars forth and shows us
We have our own fires to attend.
Jun 22, 2023
Jun 22, 2023 at 3:15 PM UTC
Through cold New England January's air
I saw him (Frost) squint,
iconic
from across the East Portico,
culturally symbolic
on a platform above me (I was twenty-eight).
Years later I knew the paper
he held hard to read,
his hotel's old typewriter
running low on ink
the night before.
The illegible poem a preface
to the one Kennedy requested -
the one he'd read years before (ca. 1942)
in the Virginia Quarterly Review,
eyes watering.
Frost stood there, faltering
in the new-fallen snow's reflective light,
half-blinded,
and I was twenty-eight as I thought,
"Kennedy:
cultured man,
sycophant, or...?"
Jul 21, 2013
Jul 21, 2013 at 3:49 AM UTC
One Eye blind
He searches earth
With just one purpose
Strangle birth
He laughs at us
With evil mirth
He hates us all
For what that's worth
Human beings
Just a toy
He'll come a girl
Or a boy
Sycophant
He will be coy
His motivation
To destroy
From below
From above
The devil's push
An "angel's" shove
He'll take hate
And call it "love"
You have two eyes
Within your heart
Blessings - curses
To impart
Find true love
Make a start
You will sing
"How Great Thou Art"
Before creating
Ties that bind
Briars - roses
That may wind
May be wicked
May be kind
Search the hearts
And you will find
The guise of devils
One eye blind
SoulSurvivor
(C) 4/23/2016
Apr 23, 2016
Apr 23, 2016 at 1:52 PM UTC
Maieutic dreamer, the ecstatic euphoria of cerebral cortex’s ****** matrix is pandemic. Extravagant exorbitances of flirtatious flamboyance and flippantly flighty flit-ness. But what of stint-ness snities? Excruciating exacerbations of laboriously beleaguering hypercritically meticulous tediums. Synaptic syntax is fervently intense like a feral phrenic frenzied **** Ruminating humanity’s collective consciousness gives me hysterical deliriums. We’re frenetically febrile, atrociously impetuous impudents who don’t know our id conclusion from our impromptu innuendo juncture. And what of the organizational principles of our subconscious continuums? Do we only dream about dexterous articulation? Can we become the agile acuity we envision or do we wallow in the drifty drivel of dour droll’s dreary? What’s to phatic say about futurity fatidic’s forlorn wanton? We need chutzpah, moxie savvy’s panache. Is there no such thing as a universally acceptable ontological deontology? Probity is as obvious as due yesterday, ethology’s entelechy the omnipresent reward. Elan vital is not subjective, it’s objective. Explicating epiphanies of social contiguity’s prospectus so innate as to be irrefragable. Not perhaps the oligarchies of eclectic synectics, but perhaps the pugnacious audacities of emote to exude aimed imbue. Assay relay’s convey, foray delay purveys inveigh. Perhaps if we are all cogently fecund with our vituperatively vociferous the holocaustial cacophony of our obstreperously abstruse will be just what the grotto grouch gumption ordered. Infusing all with the capability of aspiring to higher powers and yet not forgetting the mystery of self and others. I know I know what an ingratiating sycophant on the introjection. Gambits of alluvium aloof impunity when we all know immunity is Epicurean absurdity, but I already covered that on the phrenic aimed holocaustial cacophony. Seriously of we all enunciate so on the diction of mesomerism's to punctual. Why can’t that be the essence of accidence ambience acoustics, the arbitrational attenuation of actuator's aorist. We are not ethereal, we are corporeally preternatural and the sooner we all learn to respect each other to that the sooner we can get down to the sublimely surreal in oneiromancy’s apotropaic panaceas.
May 11, 2017
May 11, 2017 at 3:04 PM UTC
Velvet violence,
Sanguine silence.
Dripping in animosity,
Perfumed and elegant.
Divulging in toxicity,
Searching for your sycophant.
Worshiped and adored,
Never doing wrong—
But oh, the suffering caused when you're bored,
Oh, son of the siren's song.
Feb 11, 2025
Feb 11, 2025 at 8:34 AM UTC
Shame.
Self-loathing.
Slovenly, slobbering sycophant.
Stupid.
Scrofulous.
Should've stopped, sedated.
Staggering self-esteem? Sometimes.
Struggling, someday successful?
Supposedly.
Short-lived, surely.
Jul 14, 2010
Jul 14, 2010 at 6:37 AM UTC
Shan’t one discern
Between a reverie yet to conclude?
And unprecedented retribution?
Society may think it dexterous
To berate the triumph of others
And reprimand them
in exclusive and dire scrutiny
Though such a sycophant
Becomes aroused by
The fashioning of controversy
An indictment is questionable
Oct 4, 2012
Oct 4, 2012 at 8:49 PM UTC
In the dimming light
those shadows start to fall
disintegrating as the sun sets
The scene begins to shift.
There's a guy in a trench coat
he has no pants
There's a woman in a wolf mask
she recently went into a trance
she started writing poetry
she started thinking she could dance
putting on the mask
put her into that trance.
Her husband's in the back
watching ***** movies
thinking he must be the one
but she knows he
doesn't have a chance.
It's why she wears the mask
she'll wake up too late from her trance.
There is a singer on the stage
naked as before
battling that stage fright
he's seeing you in your drawers
every time he starts to sing
a coyote is running around the room
he's always laughing at you
every time you think you're doing fine.
The librarian dressed in scarlet
has a **** story to tell
and you are the star
on
the walk of fame
everybody you say knows your name
while in neon on the avenue
their all laughing
and claiming your shame.
There's a smirking sycophant
begging for a war
no humility
usually means
a shadowed soul
and a tiny ***** to go along.
If you wake up screaming
from a dream
a shadow figure is hidden in your brain
their all screaming your name
go ahead and scream
you'd better
while the old crone
laughs and laughs and laughs.
Better zip it up
put it away
Halloween only comes but once a year
it's then shadows are free to appear
better put away the gear
take off those flowered knickers
all those shadows
they hold all your fears
one of these days
will they commandeer your soul
who knows?
Well you know.
There's no escape
turn on the lights
open the door
open the window
close your eyes
the dawn has come
all shadows will disappear
put on your pants
Walk out the door
pause for a moment
look around
it's all as it was before
that's a big sigh of relief
I've heard it before
I know that sound
it's the sound before
those shadows started to fall. . .
Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 10:24 AM UTC
stringy hair and mixed up feelings
too much makeup and healing scars
no time to worry about capital letters
when im concerned for my health
financial aid and stress management
my dad likes the army a lot
my mom wants me to go to savannah
so she can visit the beach
My brother thinks im a ******
who cant roll out of bed
and maybe I could stand
to work out some
im a bit of a narcissist
**** how do you spell narcissist
anyway, im an attention *****
and ill tell you your pretty to hear you tell me I am too
but don't tell anyone
theyd say "no! youre nice."
im a *****
stop being a sycophant
Don't tell me im pretty
someone should slap me
I abuse everyone who loves me
because I like that I can
stop letting me
tell me off
or don't
because I like this power
but that's beside the point
im rambling about myself again
narcissism
its a problem
Daddy says don't swear
then tells me im not worth ****
but not in those exact words
irony all the same
and wouldn't they like to know
im not so innocent
11 years old in the mouth
but I know my way around a man
My friends don't suit me
I hate all of their jokes
I hate myself when im with them
and I hate them even more
they may read this
less bridges to burn I suppose
extra matches to light on your sandpaper hands baby
god I love those hands
the only person I never hate
and the only person I always love
I don't know how you did it
but I love you and all your fantastical clichés
this poem is long now
no one will bother to read
a long poem about
a boring girl and how shes a two faced *****
I hope this message
gets across
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 10:55 PM UTC
No destinations—
Weird sycophant's pantheon,
Gertrude Stein's Oakland.
Feb 5, 2014
Feb 5, 2014 at 10:16 PM UTC
Exotic trollwood harlotry and mule kit blues
Tyrannical tyrannosaur traction padness
Cohort cavorts clastic and witch’s *** hues
Ontological ontogeny somatalogy fadness
Inductive endemic veracities and talus weather clues
Epistemological equilibrium’s homogeny badness
Timeless rhetorical ruminations and ephemeral exigency dues
Transcendent ascensional equivocal madness
Tactile acuity prescience capacity intrepid intrigues
Mystical symbiosis dharma sensorium sentiment proselyte
Torturous tractive prosthesis umbrage ultraism colleagues
Newfangled nocturnal nonchalant nether nestle neophyte
Top notch topography tortoise trauma fatigues
Faustian faux pas foist felicitous fealties socialite
Agnate nous ontological ontogeny euphenics in league
Mentalities evocative introjecting sycophant eulogizing apposite
Mystical terrestrial equestrian tellurian tableau
Panoramic imagery empiricist
Evocative exserted apomixies’ ethereal should show
Ontological somatology lyricist
Reflective refraction remissions opulence could know
Theosophy theophany epiphany equilibrist
Magniloquent inductive extrapolation quantum back ***
Transcendent nimbus nimiety exorcist
Jul 12, 2019
Jul 12, 2019 at 1:05 AM UTC
BD
we make death
we eat breadths
lay in beds
bray and fret
we make death
sticks which twitch up the legs
passing through like a wish
it’s an inside your one-two tease
i stare at your shell
i want to ring your bell
just plant your hell on me
give yourself what you need
please baby please
give yourself what you need
we make death
we acquiesce
apodyopsis
feint of logic
till quite obnoxious
eat flesh in keys quixotic
lubricious sycophant rhapsodic
Jan 15, 2018
Jan 15, 2018 at 6:14 AM UTC
Sporting the battledress of the warrior queen.
Her eyes wide open.
She's unfurling black banners,
while spewing venom, at the blackened retching sky.
Midnight crisp approaches,
as she grabs the sullen one,
Smashes through his barriers,
She is the chosen one,
And she sings to him, provocatively, luring him in,
dashed onto gilded rocks,
For he too is the chosen one,
the son of sighs,
deliver me from death,
I beg,
oh so unholy one,
Once again, he smiles at her,
deliverance curtly,
through teeth ,
blackened by his spite,
As morning light breaks through the sky,
he stops and stoops and wonders why.
On hell and Earth, in spite of heaven,
Why did he bid goodbye to his wild warrior queen,
the royal one,
So regally attired in ebony black.
For you woman,
you seek only the sycophant,
Believe him not,
It's all a fake, a disguise behind which he hides,
Forget her not, she still wants you,
Wants to rip your **** in two,
no chance at forgiveness,
for making the lady blue,
You,
with the faces of loyal Gemini,
you state,
categorically state,
the woman, the one,
that woman,
And f**k, as inside you walk, right in again,
As inside you go again,
Here you go again, letting your passion, cause more pain.
(c) Livvi
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 5:15 PM UTC
Salut—welcome to Madam’s little fortune shop
Where you can see your own fate within an incense drop
My horns shimmer with necklaces that defeats all hexes
And my weapon is a skull of luck for both of the sexes
Now come and rest your left palm on this pentagram
I assure you that this is not a satanic scam
Cards shall give out a tale born from your consequences
As well as the horoscope that’ll mess with all five senses
I can pin a previous life and death within a single scar
I can name all your relatives as far as ones in alcazar
Withdraws are The Sun, The Moon, The Lovers, The Fool,
Listen to the revelations of storylines on your stool
With the Debut of Temperance, The Devil, the Hierophant,
Listen to the ways to avoid a man who is a sycophant
Pick a number from any of my twelve golden coins
To reveal a former lover that one day you shall rejoin
Now kindly look past the glimmers of my crystal ball
And you’ll see just how much your fortune can rise or fall
Apr 26, 2019
Apr 26, 2019 at 8:49 PM UTC
I walk by the moon
Writing a threnody
Of the ubiquitous sublimed anger
Of the unkempt souls
My words are passing on
From one line to another
These phases are scattered
Like dandelion seeds
The zephyr diverting my attention
A pleasantly small plethora of emotions
Over flowing
With the tide
My mind ebbing to drown away
Like a sycophant
Unconsciously corrupted.
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 1:20 PM UTC