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Jaws jutting, postures strutting

While one cheats in golf putting
other flinged racket in tennis
indicative, off-putting
of their deadly menace:

Benito Mussolini
full blown fascist, brazen
‘Donito Trumpolini’
proto-fascist, phase-in

Their egos dysplastic
spur their speeches bombastic

Their jaws jutting
language crude
postures strutting
manners rude

Died in ’45, Benito
while Donald lacking circumspection
not even close to finito
so runs again for reelection

Because both such slickers
brash, ignorant & tacky
they attract boot lickers
minions in millions, wacky

+)
-dysplastic = growth larger than normal
-golf, tennis = here: Don’s & Ben’s respective favorite sports

 

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No rest until she scores the best

Again and again she looks
for what’s urgently ‘essential’
zero objections she brooks
then pours on efforts torrential

These things she’d ‘wanted forever’
and won’t fumble on follow through:
She pursues in all out endeavor
as been her custom hitherto

No hurdle shall stand in her way
allowing herself no rest
against peace of mind she’ll inveigh
until having scored the best

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Wiggling toes spares me all woes

Watching my feet
flat on back in bed
in Summer’s heat
how toes wiggle, spread

Watching my feet contoured
against the open windows
most pleasantly endured
as a warm, gentle wind blows:

rushing between toes
as I lusciously doze
timed out from Life’s throes
in refreshing repose

In the very moment spared all woes
from my balding top to wiggling toes

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Would anyone bright think I’m right?

Ought not feel a blush
if some clueless minions
carry on & gush
sharing my opinion

Would not regard as auspicious
or melt down all affective
but would rather feel suspicious
in attitude deflective:

As I’m so rarely acknowledged to be right
suspect someone who agrees can’t be too bright

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My life – were I a train, ship or car

My life, were I a train, ship or car

I’d keep on spouting rickety yack
my train wheels going clickety-clack:

Seldom were I a locomotive
usually a mere caboose
Rarely dug deep down to emotive
just spouting cursory excuse

*

I’d be like a storm tossed ship
on vast ocean a mere blip:

Bow setting in waves slake
as memories fade remote
astern in churning wake
but briefly they stay afloat

*

If a car the whimsical Deux Chevaux
that purely minimalist, wheeled gizmo:

Watch it doggedly ‘dash’ uphill
engine whining wheezily
at speeds barely besting standstill
While downhill rolls easily

+)
-Deux Chevaux = the simple, lightweight & low-powered Citroën 2CV car
https://www.motortrend.com/vehicle-genres/citroen-2cv-history-photos/

 

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I’m just someone who writes rhyming (terse or worse) verse

I’m no ‘poet’ hifalutin
mere ‘versifier’ callow
who does his own in foot shooting
writing rhyming verse shallow

A superficial spin drier
of phrases oddly acquired
Just dressed up in pretend attire
for yet a show uninspired

Proclaim prim ‘poetry fellows’:
“Let’s send that versifier
off to illiterate gallows
that foul, faux falsifier!”

But while ‘poets’ opine with such gumption
what if they’re just sloshing in presumption?

 

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Best wait and see if anyone asks?

Doesn’t make an intellectual
just ’cause on mundane life’s path
he’s clumsy, ineffectual
or does not do well at math

No oratorical giant
when merely didactical
only impressing those pliant
dreamers most impractical

So before in verbiage he basks
best wait and see if anyone asks?

 

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The intensity of her propensity

Her pure propensity

jams speedometer needle
in floored intensity
unaware of own wheedle

To-do list incompressible
flashes iridescently
in manner irrepressible
complies acquiescently

Locked-on she performs
brainstormingly
stirring up dust storms
barnstormingly

Her comportment audacious
at peak pursuit tenacious

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Frantically we fiddle by the griddle

How we whip up the batter
amidst spills & splatter
with clanks & clinks & clatter
shall tastily matter

May frantically fiddle
watching out for mistakes
by the sizzling hot griddle
shaping up the hotcakes

Can the essence be found, sweet or awful
solely in the eating of the waffle?