Best Villainy Poems
Wonder not
if my thoughts are thrilled and twisted
daily and deeply by the albums of your ways,
I succumb severely to the impulse of imminent interplay
so dumb with joy, grateful for the fusion of our fevers,
I've never let you leave my mind,
you haven't finished eating your portion of my heart,
there is so much more for you, still in my chest, on my eyes,
I am your rare happiness,
that bare beast of a woman's best distress,
trigger your storm sirens with a single drop of Goodbye,
serve you with the most sensational sadness,
replenish your youth with an admiration that won't die,
knowing that I am not a makeshift man, nor a loyalty within a lie,
that I'll punish your pulse with peppered pleasure
because I can, because I must,
pull your hair just to hear those breaths beg for big flares,
treat the smooth and sweet lascerations of love's lament
butterfly cut into the surface of a girl's search for sincerity,
we get intoxicated on performance of personality,
buzzed beautifully from believing in the addiction of adoration's affliction,
We know we can handle one another's hurt
as warriors bleed hard because they sell themselves the sacrafice,
that we can process history with humor by breaking the shame of blame,
synthesize epiphany with sympathy to nourish symphonies of Divinity
we realize that intensity is the regal implement of our tournament,
I like it when you tell me the tough truths,
that you want to be loved for more than one reason,
that being respected in segments isn't enough,
that he will never be me,
that words can outlast the disappointment of distance,
that the world overwhelms you when you most expect,
that sometimes you'd rather be a heart attack
before being a pretty song or a favorite memory,
I understand your need for absolute affection, absolute attention,
lets allow our love to be confusing, dazzling, on the verge of villainy,
it isn't steady as a sleeping heart beat
or ready for celebration like a " gee wiz " graduation,
it is our Love, and its undefinably volatile and lovely,
Your cosmos gives a question that feeds one answer,
that love is ours, safe in the arms of Armageddon,
I remember the ember of our future
spazing on the hearth of fresh earth,
don't ever miss me Babe, just keep lovin me -
J.A.B.
While snowflakes continue to fall,
upon a night pale as ghostly winter
I falter from my own distraught pause--
the hazy moon watches my young girl
a serene angel laying in starshine, on a bed
frigid cold with her tiny body
wrapped in fine linen and pink bonnet:
I could still recall her pupils tightening,
while through glimpses silent, my own mouth
utters, ' fight, my dear one, fight!'
Yet, her last gasp escapes a frozen outline,
those eyes blinking restlessly up high
as my fallen gazes droop at her gaunt form --
How this heart cleaves till screams rack
my own body with convulsive, inconsolable
anguish: this route to a thievish doom
makes me seethe, slam, screech at life
for my child's unborn dreams ...never to fly, ever.
It rains and a mantle of tears drown
upon her skin, my face in endless whys--
as I howl with night birds for the villainy of time.
Verses of Metaphors 3- RHYME OR FREE VERSE ONLY
Sponsor: Lu Loo
04.26.2019
I have claimed to be apolitical but there are times
when the crop is ready for harvesting, so I put fuel
in the John Deere, ink in my pen and wrote...
He'll get millions of votes for that nicked ear
The vengeful narcissist people should fear
Picasso President
With malicious intent
He should be given the famous Bronx Cheer!
It looks like the graffiti on the wall
Four more years and America will fall
Trump will blow his own horn
Guilty of loving p.o.r.n.
And the rape of all the women he's mauled
There's another Trump, Junior's daughter, Kai
Brought a tear or two to dear grandpa's eye
It was her intention
During the convention
To convince people that he's a good guy
Melania was there but just for show
Since he paid off Stormy... well uh, you know
She has kept her distance
Abhors his existence
She can't be with him since he's had a ho
His Trumpeters may be humbled one day
Those who will vote for him and have their say
Those who are so headstrong
Thinking he's done no wrong
The beast who led America astray
He hasn't made the US great again
He's torn the nation apart... friend from friend
Time will tell the story
But there'll be no glory
Picasso President is no Godsend.
Trump toadies must be in a state of bliss
When his venom spews like a snake, hiss, hiss
They praise the dictator
The alienator
His villainy too baleful to dismiss
I've never liked saying, "I told you so"
But D J Trump is a jerk and a schmo
He's a divisor of men
When he's elected again
His tyranny will reign like a deathblow
I've read a few posts about Trump and yet
Not one comment did I write to upset
Another poet's view
I expect that from you
Without hostility or epithet
THEIR GREATER SIN
They call one who speaks for Liberty a Fascist
They claim man made end of world as a proven tenet
And to them ‘free’ means imprimatur to ravish
Expressed with many a ‘You know’ ‘It’s like’ and ‘Ennit!’
They proclaim themselves as ‘liberal’ though they favour
The hard politics of socialism central
With a strong taste of Marx in its flavour
That just gives me an affliction in the ventral
Of dark villainy I now seek to accuse
And reserve a special torment to confer
Not for all the sins above from which I bruise
Nor self righteousness they constantly aver
It is the painful wounds for which there is no bandage
Their cruel destructive treatment of the English Language
Ah, Divine influence, it has come to many, so they say,
as to their nameless or named God’s they do pray.
The light came to Carroll, he said he could see,
for raised by a Vicar at Christ church was he.
Dodgson was his surname an apt moniker
for he veers of from his father, made math his liqueur
Lewis was Charles tongue in cheek, he wore hats
and from his birth place, he transformed Cheshire cats.
Lewis Carroll wrote “Alice” sure, he was also Charles Dodgson
but who wrote the marrow, now that’s where the God comes!
Now, many men wrote the Bible or so we surmise
and the pages they garnered came in random sizes.
Yes they picked, they plucked, these men were right scary
and what do you know, left out the Book of Mary!
Now you modern readers just might take a note
the resemblance twixt Alice and Mary's no anecdote.
Dogdson, yes Carroll, knew Mary so it seems
yet, Alice sweet Alice is who came in his dreams.
Carroll clothed Alice and it's no surprise
that in Chapter 3:21, her dress he seeks dried!
For Alice, dear Alice, did not wish to die!
“She would catch a bad cold if she could not get dry.”
Carroll being the kind creator, he would
had the mouse read to Alice the driest of books.
Again and again, his benevolence is shown
when he sends Alice a rabbit to soon lead her home.
So, we are lead on in most delightful detail
to Chapter 4:15 where her flight is curtailed.
As Cain slew Abel, so the Queen beheaded prates.
Yet, she’d no power at all, over bodiless cats!
Now, Chapter 12 is truly my favorite, as you may surmise
Lewis Carroll has dreamed much of caterpillar size..
He dreamed a whole world full of goodness and villainy.
As anyone can see, men will see what they see,
and the Looking Glass has as much meaning to me
as the Bible may have to the Christians, let be.
In God's own ink
with bloody hands,
he writes his life away.
Incarcerated.....
yet he's free
to have his final say.
Dark and dank,
his tiny cell
becomes a living tome,
to tell a tale of villainy,
of madness
and of home.
His maiden fair
returned his love
with evil and deceit.
She led him here into a trap
his enemy to meet.
At length
she saved him
from an end
a death both quick and sure.
She left him in this dungeon dark
forever to endure
the memory
of her false heart
and one who stole it all.
He tells it all right from the start
it flows upon the wall,
and when his bright red ink runs dry
the angels come to read.
He falls upon the stones to die
with no words left to bleed.
A picture appeared on my phone today,
on the proverbial page I perused.
A view of an evil most vile,
villainy veiled behind verve and vim.
Sadists from Auschwitz,
smiling in a storm.
Shoulders shrugging,
to shield from the sky.
No hint of the horrors,
the Holocaust they heralded.
Not haunted like the humans they harrow,
but hyenas, howling, in high humor after the hunt.
Their consciences clear, their cruelty concealed,
their cheer chills me to the core.
They caused such wicked calvary,
a calamity that echoes into the current century.
Yet they dare to delight,
while they deal in death and dread.
Their depravity so deep that they grin,
as they decry virtue and destroy millions.
But what mortifies me more is,
how mundane their mien.
Will we fear the next fiends fittingly,
or in time... if their faces feel like friends'?
Look at the floor of heaven
Laid with patterns of bright gold
For us, they are but little orbs
But in his motion
Like angels, they sing
So many songs of harmony
To the souls of immortals
And while this muddy vesture of decay
Does gross in them
We mortals cannot hear it.
Hold your fortune for your bliss
A gentle scroll
A diamond ring
All gone
Loss upon loss
Life upon life
Death upon death
Pain upon pain
A man of the people
The villainy the beasts taught him
That he executed
Until things fell apart
Judge him not
And mourn him as a legend
Chinualumogu!
For whose sake
The Arrow of the gods granted justice.
Christopher Okigbo called them beasts
David Diop called them vultures
For me
They were weeds on our soil
Colonial masters
Who awakened our sleeping lions
Achebe threw the bomb
And died before it exploded
This cooled his friends
And awakened his enemies
They laughed at his losses
And scorned all his gains
He sought no revenge
Yet his silence scrapped all nations
Thwarted their bargains
And with two heads of fools
He repaid them for one
And then There was a Country
He chose not what many men desired
And rejected the barbarous multitude;
Crystallized the inferiority complex
And fought back to back
For Africa.
No ill luck stirred at first
No tears but of our shedding
No sighs but our breathing
Various creditors sprang
Enemies arose
Yet he'd give up nothing for the wilderness of monkeys
Nor for the generation of wolves
An ambassador of love rarely seen
His pleas were for the taunted and corrupt
And with his graciously seasoned works
He obscured the shows of evil
What damned error!
But some superior would bless and approve it with a text
Hiding the grossness with faint ornaments.
Look on beauty
And you shall see
It is purchased on the weight
Often have you been told
That all that glitters is not gold
Farewell, the hope of Africa
For now, your suit is cold
We love and miss you
But our prayers with you shall be
Oh, Lord!
Arise and await
For his gentle spirit
Unto you dear God
Commits itself to be directed
The Beautyful ones are indeed not yet born
But the born indeed are most beautifully precious
Adieu Albert!
There was a time when tradesmen,
Like plumbers or mechanics, were all fulltime people.
But nowadays a tradesman has to do multiple tasks,
Mainly because their number is dwindling.
When they are not available,
Householders have to do the job themselves.
It stands to reason.
Similarly, occupations like thieving, robbery, villainy, etc.,
Used to be carried on on a fulltime-basis.
You could tell such characters apart
By their behavior, dress code and looks.
Fagin, Phoolan Devi, and Veerappan are eloquent examples.
Even a street dog could easily single them out
And start barking loudly.
But nowadays, in these postmodern times,
Or Kali Yuga (if you like),
Such marks of distinction seem to be lost.
Obviously, such ‘trades’ nowadays have gone part-time.
But the question is: Why so many part-time people
(seeing that their number is ever increasing),
And when, evidently, there is so much scope?
Why don't people go fulltime?
Could anyone explain why or why not?
We are the tintinnabulating trolls
To the rock rock bottom of our nonexistent souls.
Madder than the maddest hatter,
Hear us bellow, bray, and bleat;
And we prattle pitter-patter
In our jabberwocky chatter
To a bumbulating beat.
See us zim zam zoom
As we're going bim bam boom
In an onomatopoeia that so rhythmically rolls.
We're the trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls.
We're the truly tintinnabulating trolls.
We are the tintinnabulating trolls
With our xenophobic hearts lit like black burning coals.
Hate and anger are our teachers
So we squabble, squeal, and squirm.
We are misbegotten creatures—
With the ugliest of features—
Lower than the lowest worm.
In these premises
We're unrivaled nemeses;
And we burrow furrow mindless like some misanthropic moles.
We're the trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls.
We're the truly tintinnabulating trolls.
We are the tintinnabulating trolls
From compassion and goodness we're at opposite poles—
So devoid of any scruples.
On stupidity we feed.
As our villainy quadruples
We're the most attentive pupils
To insatiable greed.
See us bash bing bang.
Hear us clatter clash cling clang
As we crash upon the shallows of malevolented shoals.
We're the trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls.
We're the truly tintinnabulating trolls.
We're the trolls trolls trolls,
The incorrigible trolls.
We're the trolls trolls trolls.
We're the horrigible trolls.
We're the irritating, aggravating, fascinating trolls.
We're the wrangulating, jangulating, strangulating trolls.
We're the trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls trolls.
We're the truly tintinnabulating trolls.
– Harley White
[From my version of “East of the Sun and West of the Moon”]
Henry Morgan
Pirate of the Caribbean
Henry Morgan is my name
Pirating is my fame
My story has been told
There’s only one I claim
1635 was the year of my birth
The eldest son of a gentleman farmer
In Llanrhymny, Wales. I had
no desire in filling the shoes of my father
With hopes of adventure and fun
I left to seek my fame and fortune
Shanghaied and shipped off to the West Indies
and sold in Barbados was my misfortune
I survived and regain my freedom
and was recruited by a pirate crew
Prospering in my new profession we
bought our own ship and sailed the ocean blue
Raiding the Caribbean Spanish settlements
earning us a reputation as ruthless
fearsome, villainy buccaneer pirates
under old Dutch pirate Capt. Edward Mansveltz
In 1672 I was brought up on charges.
Attacking Panama violated a treaty
between England and Spain. Found not guilty
Instead Knighted by King Charles II and set free
Knighted pirate of the Caribbean
12/29/2015
Poetry Contest: A storm on the Spanish Main
Sponsored by: Joe Maverick
The Extinction of the Sea Turtles
By Elton Camp
Human villainy is a cause for alarm
It causes much environmental harm
If the sea turtle should become extinct
To deliberate human acts it is linked
Sea turtles take decades to sexually mature
Then their offspring are far from secure
Males and females mate out in the sea
But on the sandy beach its nests must be
To the beach where hatched many return
Only to be met by the selfish and stern
She hauls herself up onto the home beach
Digs a hole to put her eggs out of reach
Then she covers and hides them well
Just where they are it’s hard to tell
But people have been there on alert
And immediately dig into the dirt
Huge sacks of eggs they carry away
So there will be no babies another day
It is largely because of this disgrace
That extinction the sea turtle does face
She has the promise to excite a man's imagination
and the expectation she's too giddy to foil.
Similar to a gargoyle, but something makes me question
how statuesque - with the way she's entangled in herself
like a pair of headphones left abandoned in a jean's pocket.
Her complex nature tiptoes between beauty and villainy:
a damsel in distress that I'd have doubts about saving.
Should I hold her hand with affection?
Kiss her lips with seductive glee?
Or slip away into the blanket of the night
with my life and dignity still intact.
Written February 29th, 2016
For the Visualize, Scrutinize, and Remark Contested hosted by Forever Malta
Itz,
cigar litany,
sun-glass villainy,
functional function-ability-
operating a pertinence undue to the mean-streak-
my man was a real porter but not so Greek-
hella' greedy like the weak,
hairy in ecstasy,
sternly speeding within his hoarse feet,
he'd leverage the wage against a narrowing bridge,
fitting neatly into scenes,
he'd soccer around his thing to bring out the majority of me.
I am baffled, stunned, dumbfounded
Completely nonplussed by the persistence
Of the international criminal court
In harassing the popularly elected Kenyan
President and his popularly elected deputy
As rogue entities terrorize Eastern Europe
The Arab World and my beloved Africa
All around us people are being beheaded
Or otherwise massacred on a whim
Innocent people who would, if free,
Choose to live and let live in peace
Rather than engage in perpetual
Callous, wanton and unprovoked
Slaughter of those they despise.
Aljazeera, BBC and CNN daily broadcast
The atrocities committed by the Islamic state
The beheadings are posted on the internet
And broadcast on radio, tv and newspapers
And while the moguls make their millions
In the dissemination of the villainy
The United Nations looks on puzzled
Or perplexed, mystified or even dazed
By the enormity or complexity of it all
Leaving me to wonder whether
This world body is not being manipulated
For the ends of a few powerful members
Who believe their fortunes would flourish
With the weakening of these regions!
If you can hear me, Ban Ki Moon
Hearken, the downtrodden moan!