Finger Licking Good
Bloated.
From head to toe.
Blinged for masquerades.
Adorning hollow vessels.
Behind disguising expensive Sun 'shades'.
Bloated from a self involvement,
That searches to be understood.
No sacrifices by them endured.
Everything is required to be...
Finger licking good.
Bloated and loaded with overindulgence.
And this bubble nears popping.
To dropp a whine from time to time.
As if folks have noticed,
A floating has stopped.
And...
Realities have been encountered.
But this was never prioritized...
By those not into bling cliques to cop,
False fluff to pump up stuff to gloat!
Another circus seems to be coming to an end.
Until another is marketed...
To those with no depth to show!
But prepared they will be to perform,
For those who are masters of design.
Needing their backs to trademark and brand!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Gloating Upon Floating Egos
Bloated from the excessive stroking,
Performed by those gloating upon floating egos.
And unknown are they impressed along the way,
They have been used as tokens, pawns and jokes.
A method used to sustain influence.
And a hopeful maintaining of those stolen gains.
Just to keep one's name buzzing amongst the mix.
And glistening to sparkle with a false integrity.
Kept as a top ten winner to deceive!
No matter the depth of the sleaze known,
By the ones considered to be common folks...
Who have grown accustomed to seeing plastic smiles.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Our Indignities....
Everyone of us here is
in one way or another, and by all means,
exploited. Look at these bloated masters
for whom we
serve so blindly,
they have become coated with
fat
and they all look rich and
sick and
filthy and they pat our backs
and tell us that
we are all doing good
technically, we are,
fools, modern academic fools,
idiots,
we have made monsters
who leave us nothing to ourselves
but our
being undignified
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Poverty At Santa Lucia
legs like pins
head like bloated balloon
eyes staring
at the future that never comes
poem by Sebastian Soberania
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Something Practical For Valentine
There sits, atop a cherry tree
a bird that badly needs to pee.
He's eaten cherries to his fill
and now is bloated, feeling ill.
Bird guts turn cherries into wine
for critics here, on Valentine.
And if the critics have the gout
the wine will drive the acid out.
I think that I shall never see
another fancy cherry tree.
Nor any bird, a cherry thief
who, bloated, aches for quick relief.
But the idea of cherry wine
gut-brewed just for my Valentine
is reminiscent of the gout
today is it, and I could shout!
I'm off now to the local shop
to get her present, a new mop.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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Giving Eye Contact
If I appeared here,
To fill your ears with fluff...
You wouldn't hear a word,
I had to say!
Since the fluff stuff you believe,
Protects you from experiencing...
A brusing done to your ego.
And I am clearly not in masquerade.
Already...
Without one word I utter,
You are prepared to be afraid.
Although you are the one that struts around.
And I am the one giving eye contact.
Without one dropp of sweat to be found.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Knives Out
I want you to know
Hes not coming back
Look into my eyes
Im not coming back
So knives out
Catch the mouse
Dont look down
Shove it in your mouth
If youd been a dog
They wouldve drowned you at birth
Look into my eyes
Its the only way youll know Im telling the truth
So knives out
Cook him up
Squash his head
Put him in the pot
I want you to know
Hes not coming back
Hes bloated and frozen
Still theres no point in letting it go to waste
So knives out
Catch the mouse
Squash his head
Put him in the pot
song performed by by Radiohead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What house, bloated with luxury, ever became prosperous without a woman's excellence?
Calamity
washing the shovels
on a murky river
nearby a bloated body
of a dog
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I definitely don't subscribe to the theory that more instruments, or more vocal tracks, harmony, or double tracking the voice, is a good thing. People do their early albums very stripped down, then each album becomes bloated.
quote by Joanna Newsom
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Time You Will Be Stopped
There was a time I felt at ease with you near.
Now I sit in a corner dark.
Suspicious and fearing...
You've come knock.
To attack my giving heart.
And I sit there prepared.
With a loaded pistol cocked.
Ready...
For false charms that come to alarm.
But this time you will be stopped.
To never again find me unprotected.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The photographer begins to feel big and bloated and so big he can't walk through one of these doors because he gets a good byline; he gets notices all over the world and so forth; but they're really - the important people are the people he photographs.
quote by Gordon Parks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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After we have calmly stood by and allowed monopolies to grow fat, we should not be asked to make them bloated.
quote by John Griffin Carlisle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Undernourished, intelligence becomes like the bloated belly of a starving child: swollen, filled with nothing the body can use.
quote by Andrea Dworkin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Brunch in Tampa
Let's let the waiters have their say. Let's let
The ones who took the bus to set the silver
As you drove, who crossed the desert
Overnight, describe their versions of
Privation as you stuff your bloated face.
Let's let them ask how much you need.
Your hair is perfect, and your teeth.
Your house is large. You make a lot
Of money from your leather chair,
But you complain they're not enough.
You want for nothing, but for this:
Some proof that you and yours are
Grand, and all these others, unlike
You, are wretched, and always will be.
You cast about for confirmation.
Let the waiters say.
poem by Lawrence Beck
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Oh, great reviews are the worst. They mislead you more than the bad ones, because they only fuel your ego. Then you only want another one, like potato chips or something, and the best thing you get is fat and bloated. I'd rather just refuse, thanks.
quote by Chazz Palminteri
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Do Not Read This Poem...
this poem is sad
it is the picture of a 12-year old boy with bruises on his head
blood oozes from his nose
his lips are swollen like a bloated fish poisoned on the river
his eyes look nowhere
like a light house turned off
do not read this poem when you are far away from your home
you may remember
one of your sons....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Call That Vanity
I remember once being told I was nothing but fluff.
With a life that would lead to nothing,
Because I was not made of the right stuff.
And purposely I see these folks.
And keep my mouth close shut.
Since most of them are limping with canes,
If not laying flat on their butts!
And I am happy and glad my stuff is fluff.
With a still muscled butt that allows my strut!
And please by all means,
Call that vanity!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Nappy Headed Ho’s
Three words that circled Earth
Spoken by a racist/sexist bigot
A man with bloated self worth
Paycheck reduced to zero digit
(ROTMS)
poem by Ray Lucero
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To add to our misery and despair, a bloated aristocracy has sent to China - the greatest and oldest despotism in the world - for a cheap working slave.
quote by Denis Kearney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So You Don't Like The Sour Man?
so, here you are again, feeling sorry for the sour man
the one who does not know how to stretch his face
to make a smile
the one consumed by the ghosts of his own worries
that never came
the one who stays in the nook
afraid,
you do not like this sour man
scared, not easy to handle, expensive
to the pocket
you do not find him
a good company to your sports
laughter
and happy-go-lucky
merry, merry, merry,
round and round
telling people hey life is short why not just enjoy every minute of it
savor the moments
lick every sweet dropp of life like honey to your finger
finger licking good
till the last dropp till the supply lasts
take today, today, today, why worry about tomorrow
oh, you do not like the sour man
and you are angry at him
well, it is sad, the sour man has conquered you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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