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Armed with Wine

I swing into action Armed with wine The spirit willing, really for anything Watch the Drama Fire in my eye, dry throat, cracking lip I stammer a little, with Socratic confidence I am stinking of words, ammunition from hell Most haunting jargon, charging and burning Listen, you mortals The making of a warrior, Galloping commando I tremble with tenor, who shall call the media? Write the headline, Front page fury A tribute to the King, the King of my Party He insulted you, hiccup When I reached the spot, he was missing I waited, but I kept stoking my anger Rehearsal now How dare you, calling my party King a thing? A thing, I hear myself roar... I held the image of him in the air, like a thing Who do think you are? Facial expression Oh, Master-steps of Black Belt heroes I do an upper cut to the air, hiccup A Shotokan swarm of tornados, Samurai Confucius lecture of blows, “i-Ichi” for One, “n-Ni” for two, “s-San” for three, “s-Shi” and more till “ju” for ten I fling stuff to the air, I tear space With a spell of my claws, Summon Armageddon Shred him and scatter his pieces On the floor, Breathing out A one man army, Full fanged brigade - the power of imagination I fell to the left and let an orgiastic yell Blackout You broke the collar bone, says the doc You breached the rule, says the cop You lost the code, says the boss You are a sheep, says the Bishop My crest has fallen like Ozymandias My wine is gone, my bone is gone My white collar too, and the spirit evaporated I hear the echoes of my fiancée’s heels She carries the empty bottle, I left behind The charmeuse wedding gown on the right Sore eyes and washed hands She stares at me like a crossword puzzle On bended knee, next to my breath Her lip only speaks I told you, did I not? Our boho vibe wedding is tomorrow They blessed your dickey-bow and my tiara The cathedral is busy I am Sorry, I say, this time for real... What shall the Bishop say, when you wail in jail Your workmates know, you lost the Job They too, returned the cards The Bishop lost hope, returned the cross Now You expect me to wait, for you, for life? You may now kiss the bribe What you have spewed together Nun shall put asunder! Her footsteps fade to the convent Forbidding our Covenant What remains, I want to bargain again But the writing is plain, the train has left With the bestman too Tell me Does the King know this? The King of My Party!

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020




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Date: 2/2/2020 7:05:00 PM
You really 'let 'er rip,' here! Hope the collarbone's getting better. (Ouch!) Health and Happiness, Gershon
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peter Onyancha
Date: 2/3/2020 2:00:00 AM
Gershon, thanks a lot. Been following the strands of your music on the other side. Great poetry, especially "Plan B"
Date: 1/27/2020 2:55:00 PM
Congrats on your honorable mention!;)
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peter Onyancha
Date: 1/28/2020 12:25:00 AM
Many thanks Brenda Chiri...I appreciate
Date: 1/27/2020 7:02:00 AM
Wow! What a write! And a warning.
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peter Onyancha
Date: 1/27/2020 11:56:00 AM
Many thanks Kim Rodrigues... This is so close to a true story I tried to reclaim.