"tarnation" poems
The circumambient wings of a seraph
Obstrepously monastic within
Dereliction contemning the
Mendaciously obsequious;
The bathos of ablution grittily
Jejune fulgerating the engrossed.
The chaldean lachrymatory
The ligature of the darklings rheum,
Volently acclaimed
The paladin necromancers
Circumfluous wintry orbs
Ardently accosting the chasm
Lasping tarnation fructifying
Acedias roborant,
Heavens ignoble lassitude
The boreal scope of causality-
Hells predacious moil.
ELEETE J MUIR..
Apr 9, 2012
Apr 9, 2012 at 2:24 PM UTC
~
*So where did you go?
Where in daydream tarnation are we?
If only you could see my exodus
and relent
Where are you now?
Matters of blood and connection
forming at the mouth
we are the fabrication
--an image apart from ourselves
To break is something sacred
in the Morse code of brake lights
through time stained windows
through a thousand contractions
the dead are getting younger
If only you could see me
walk into the blackness
not to build a fire
but melt, wander, disappear
and relent
relent
relent*
~
Mar 23, 2024
Mar 23, 2024 at 5:20 PM UTC
I just wanted to say thank you.
I wanted to thank you for helping make me who I am.
I wanted to thank you for pushing me forward when I was satisfied.
I wanted to thank you for being upset when I let you down.
and for lifting me up when I wanted to frown.
I wanted to tell you--How grateful I am.
Not only for writing me a letter of rec.
but for writing to me when I felt wrecked,
and for keeping your room open after work was “done”
Because I know, secretly, that room was your heart
even though your sarcasm made that fact hard to tease apart.
I wanted to let you know I am happy.
Not terribly happy, not without problems.
But happy enough where I can get up every morning
and complain about growing into a better person.
I wanted to let you know I totally identified with
what I imagined your fears where when you first left for college.
And that I hope my fears will also help others when they leave as well.
I wanted to tell you I liked watching you cry.
Which probably makes you roll your eyes,
but it let me know, I could maybe, one day, be as strong as you.
I wanted to wish you prosperity, and hope, and love.
Because my aunt just had a baby too,
Whom I met this past winter
And I swear,
when I looked in her little her eyes
I saw the Universe.
It kinda funny that they named her Jasmine.
I wanted to tell you, that sometimes I re-read the letter you wrote me for graduation.
Especially when I feel the world is only filled with desperation,
When I need motivation,
When I wonder what in tarnation I’m doing with my life.
Sometimes, It's hard to miss home--even to miss friends.
I know we all are probably too busy to miss each other all the time.
But I wanted to say,
Thank you.
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 12:09 AM UTC
sam i yam not,
nor will this 'lo bot go away
cuz, every coordinate in cyber space allows,
enables and provides
an opportunity to bray,
and thence get access
to each excel lent power full point
one among the beguiling bajillion,
thus this ming boggling concept proffers
(even the generic mom and pop hacker
tubby in her/his element field gloating
as if they won
the Irish Sweepstakes that day
despite neither could claim
direct lineage, sans Emerald Eire
analogous to Celtic temptress,
whose grand geography
beckons toward entranceway,
where sensory, levity,
and ecstasy punctuate foray
boot that diverges one hundred
and eighty degrees asper gateway
onrush of spam enters electronic hatchway
spilling forth like
offal horrific bilge interlay
sloshing violently, revoltingly,
and nauseatingly, witnessing a jay
bird donning mask (yule hating)
beak coming contrivance fashioned keyway.
force full brainstorm to firewall
to place on indefinite layaway
inundation of spam midway
between now and eternity,
essentially noway
no more, and if necessary
hermetically seal myself
stationing a pal in drone willingly overpay!
Mar 24, 2018
Mar 24, 2018 at 1:22 AM UTC
The milk
dribbled down Steven's right arm.
what in tarnation am i doing?
he thought to himself
his mom's tiny shoes
tiptoed up to his room
****
he started to ****
and turned on the flourescent light
what's going on in there?
he heard her whisper
through her moldy teeth
Jun 7, 2010
Jun 7, 2010 at 10:29 AM UTC
Who is to blame?
who are the giants who manipulate the game?
corporations ******* our lives dry and desperation, plastic bags,
deforestation
it's given me an inflammation
what in tarnation are we going to do?
You and the Who may be one and the same,
we all have some part in the terrible game
and I'm in the frame for it,
done for a little bit, sat and
watched people ****
all over nature.
The visionary drones on like he sees it with headphones on reading a script while the planet's being ripped out from under our feet,
a bit like, 'meet the Flintstones' and it's in bedrock we'll build our next homes and another generation will fill the forests, harvest vegetation, and the corporation will rise again, tell of its corporate lies again and we'll all believe that they're all sane men.
Who is to blame?
the blind men who read the bible and curse which the deaf man can't hear, but which is the worse.
Rant for a bit
and cogitate,
wait for a bit
and rant a bit more,
bits and bobs and the 'nobs hold the aces
the deck was rigged
just look at their faces.
Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 6:46 AM UTC
Ah them little flags, who is hoisting
those flags, is it you? And please do tell,
what in tarnation do those annoying
little flags do? Perhaps it is well
to use them to flag a ***** poem
that is inappropriate and that
offends. However, I wrote a poem
about cold snowy Oslo, and drat
if it didn't recieve nineteen of
them little flags. If I can't write on
the subject of snow so pure, what Bruv
is a girl to write about, c'mon?!
Please use them flags for offensive poems
and f*ing leave the rest of us alone!
Nov 20, 2019
Nov 20, 2019 at 2:12 PM UTC
Death is something to become accustomed to,
Something not to fear,
Not to construe,
When examining its leer.
The cycle of life delivers
Exhilaration and then mortification,
Sometimes not filling in any answers,
Neither promising or denying tarnation.
But we need not delve into
The concept of death being morbid,
Or something a god will malignantly do,
At the same time, these thoughts we can't forbid.
Find peace with existing to exist;
Look out for yourself;
Do not unwittingly miss
Those who made you cut your wrist.
Dec 26, 2015
Dec 26, 2015 at 6:43 PM UTC
6.4.14's offering for US National Poetry Month
Another poem to hack out,
A flood instead of the usual drought,
This month I dare not slack,
Even if inspiration I lack,
The daily schedule to survive?
Shall I knock out a three line haiku?
Would you, catch a fleeting quatrain,
Or take five, to ameliorate the strain?
I'm now at six, next hardly seventh heaven
Lord knows how I'll make eleven
Twelve, thirteen, tarnation on it
Fourteen suggests a sonnet?
Fifteen? Oh "dead man's chest"
and that many pirates upon it
Already losing reason stroke rhyme
What may poetry month evoke in time?
I own this day's diatribe seems shirty
TGIA which hath only thirty.
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 11:56 PM UTC
I would of stood still,
and waited around for you
for hours and minutes.
As the clock would tick
through the day,
not knowing what was in it for me.
How I stopped you from bleeding to death.
Though it is embarrassing how she
took the knife away
like a child.
It is what she had to do.
The scars would say it,
and we had no knowledge
of how to handle this agony
and childishness.
As he complained again and again,
as you made him drive around
in all of tarnation
to get you back on your feet.
I waited no longer to say it,
I did.
It was hard,
But I only did
what I had to do.
They can all be mad,
they will all wonder why,
I let you go,
there were no more chances,
times, and tries.
Another chance is given,
but I am no fit.
Today I take my absence.
It is shock,
but relief.
I had to do it for me,
know when enough is enough.
Know when to say
STOP.
Know,
the limits.
Know,
the boundaries.
Know,
when you have to do it.
Jul 13, 2014
Jul 13, 2014 at 3:53 PM UTC
inalienable, inimitable,
and inviolable sacrosanct
contentiously debated enshrined Constitution
ratified June 21, 1788
preceding hallmark Bill of Rights
(adopted effective December 15, 1791) rank
despite British Monarchy exerting, sans lanced
strong arm tactics in response to "FAKE prank
asserting original fledgling NON GMO,
gluten and msg free
thirteen American colonies
(with a great hee ***
severely itching for
(and declared) autonomy
from Britain with mojo
memorialized On July 2, 1776,
when Second Continental Congress,
(with more yes votes then no)
met in Philadelphia voting
unanimously, where this poe
whit notates historical
declaration of independence,
yet since Information Technology Revolution
trumps Founding Fathers (well nigh
almost two hundred
and fifty (CCL) year status quo
as into uncharted figurative waters
American Democracy doth row,
especially problematic to adapt
couched freedoms show
cased within storied
novel innovative though
now confounding, frustrating,
and immobilizing supposed call
ling on learned scholars
adept doctors at law,
resistant to brickbats
heaved by protesters with gall
or perhaps consulting
entertainers at Faneuil Hall,
how in tarnation can the tenets, rubric,
and precepts, sans seven score
and four plus orbitz ago
before advent of tele
communications companies
exhibited fiercely greedily
hungry indomitable up pall
ling monopolistic control,
via erecting a unscalable fire wall
authorized with an A okay by the FCC
Federal Communications Committee to glee
fully relinquish control
(blood) letting "Big Cable", thus
allowing, enabling, and promoting key
purrs of the Internet remain
under jurisdiction me
ning all content and applications
can ***** nilly nee
i.e. be deliberately blocked as well
particular products or websites pre
venting unfettered access to thus re
choir ring every man, woman and child even three
yar olds to voice objection,
and take prescient action NOW!
May 10, 2018
May 10, 2018 at 12:13 AM UTC
on our tippy toes
and trippy kush
where in tarnation
are you, my dear?
it's lit as blue blazes
over here
don't let the power
burn you up
don't you think
down and out
should be enough
Apr 24, 2018
Apr 24, 2018 at 11:47 PM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
Where the hell
Should I begin
She’s ugly
As homemade sin
Though she used to be
A man among men
But that was
Way back when
What in tarnation
Can I say
She threw her wife
And kids away
Cos she felt like
A woman okay
But that was
Yesterday
Now I’m not tryin’
To be cruel
But to confuse her for a woman
I’d have to be a fool
Though what I’m saying
Might not be cool
It’s high time that she
Be taken to school
She’s six feet
Two inches then some
Even with makeup
She looks dumb
Though she might be attractive
To some
She’s confused for a woman
By none
Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2022. All rights reserved.
Jan 27, 2022
Jan 27, 2022 at 9:07 PM UTC
"what in tarnation!"
said the rabbi at the station
discovering that even kosher cheese can cause great inflammation
Jul 7, 2021
Jul 7, 2021 at 10:51 PM UTC
I woke up this morning feeling a little queasy
I thought to myself "it's fine, take it easy"
I went downstairs to find my mom in the kitchen
And then I realized "oh no I can't keep it in"
I ran to the bathroom to quickly throw up
I got to stay home but not when I grow up
Because you have to work, it's your obligation
I know it's ridiculous, like what in tarnation
Mar 29, 2018
Mar 29, 2018 at 7:52 AM UTC