Promote pacifism to manifest propped universal
Ladders lifting peace levelled brotherly love linking
Unified communities unfolding utopian identities that
Magnify differences as measurements of man’s sameness
thorns roam across my forehead
a thousand squirms prevaricate,
of the silhouetted sun dance
the ice cream man can only melt
hounds and the hustlers
rejoice under beam
the dead had quietly spoke
confession talks falsely
the hour is late
two adders are approaching
the wind began to howl
are we not the victims of the war
the steeple guard reigned
clearing the morning air
Corrupt farm, disdainful politics
Corrupt farm, unedifying ethics
The Lion gorges the subservient animals but not grass page
Or even does he gobble other feeds in the forest sage
The pronghorns fight it hard to progress
And they feed with apprehension and distress.
When they do require of the Lion—
To give a good reason why he devours them like any minion,
He reminds them of being "The King of the Jungle"
So he continues his diabolical project as a noble.
The grass and fowls of the air remain spared
'Cause no, not sufficient antelopes to make them seared.
The foreign vipers intrude awry
With an acclamation of being their profound territory
But they have come with the interest of politics
Dirty politics!
So they play it well, even more than the crown himself.
These adders bite the innocent beasts of their treasures to will of self.
With the injection of putridity and selfishness
Their anchor of theft and greediness.
Corruption drinks poverty!
All because of a bad conductor of no hearty.
The world has no idea
what it's been missing,
the Death Adders are hissing
and we are deaf to the warning.
Too late to stop the snakes
from spreading the venom,
too late to recognize the Phenom
is six hundred sixty six.
Some snakes are called adders
And I know that's true
Most adders are very good at sums
Others can't add up to two
This must be a worry
For adders who can't add
This could make this type of snake
Both miserable and sad
Cheer up little adder
There is no reason for shame
An adder is not an adder
It's only just his name
Do not weep do not mourn
Do not move like a pawn
Back into his tight grasp
For that mans like an asp
Cleopatra is gone thanks
To his venomous pranks
Oh the fatal bite
Delivered so trite
Vipera aspis, get lost
You too, Naja Haja, tossed
Like a common adder
Becoming cannon fodder
Vipera berus berus
All green eyed, jealous
Follows the woman around
Copulation one bound
To lose in mating season
The dance of the adders, reason
No rear up, push his head under
Else, white flag it, blunder
They don’t get it, bunch of fools
Don’t they see how the media drools
Over each and every tweet
Crafted not to be discreet.
Are they blind to my great skill
Of bending media to my will,
Time and again I pull that trick,
And they fall over like a brick.
My strategy’s sublime there’s no denial
Prepped as a lawyer does for trial,
I make a case and sell it strong,
Daring them to call me wrong.
And once they do they’re in my trap
For all their energy I sap,
Each falling over like ten pins
To call out loud my litany of sins.
Oh dear God isn’t that great
How so easily they bait,
Puffed like Adders full of bluster
Regaling me with countless hours of laughter.
But with their faces ever redder
I’m invariably the header,
For my words to sing out loud,
To my all adoring crowd.
So on I go merrily tweeting
On a veritable shoestring,
The investment now all theirs
Fully answering my prayers.
That first non-rhythmical matter,
Floated on the new dust of light,
To whet the eleventh spark clatter,
Such that its dividend split tight;
A web, a sea of ringed atmosphere,
Then a cob of meteoric compression,
Hurling towards a black collapse here,
To dent the shock supernovas intervention;
With planets duetting their sweeps in silence,
The night is not black and suffers a blow,
Identified deductively but with great nuance,
The waves glinting the bounce and the flow.
God became a man, human to the core,
Not an apple, lamp, priest or Ferrari,
Even though Genesis incepts with lore,
Given god as a construct, apple’s Atari;
Christianity grabs god indeed as a man,
Possibly to concede that a human coasts,
Crucially opening herbs and aromatics fan,
To the differential and to the weaker posts.
Life without a momentum blackadders,
Would not summate to conviviality,
Rejuvenation oscillations sprite the adders,
Ionotrophic energy comes up from banality.
Rhoda Monihan
Beneath the deep blue sea,
the broken hearts of mermaids bleed,
ululating for their love
happiness awaits above.
“Don't be afraid of the abyss
the turtle offers his advice
you cannot help but always miss
swim until your love is found
your legs will then become unbound
until your lover with one kiss,
will fill your life with so much bliss.”
The shark parades with gleeful eyes,
His plans and actions no disguise,
The mermaids swim among the twisted ladders
they are aware of sharks and adders.
The friendly dolphins come to play,
to keep them company they stay,
the mermaids splash and giggle
with happiness, their tails wiggle.
nostalgic silence drowns the night
how dreadful is their lonely plight
the opposite of love is fear
their echoes whisper they are near.
T' was a shallow creeping envy,
Of a deviant design;
It slithered In quietly undetected,
To prey upon unsuspecting minds.
It built up false images and verses,
A phoney talent in every way;
Taking slander to its highest levels,
And breeding hate his favorite play.
He blinded his band of followers,
To carry out his dirty deeds;
They became his demonic harem,
Planting his evil silent seeds.
But he couldnt break the true believers,
Those called to be sages of pen and page;
They stood together to expose his lies,
Using truth in this war they waged.
There is a higher calling of this gift,
Only those who are called know to play;
The haters and phoney's may do their worst,
But in time will truly pass away.
Across the shadowed byte desert, a lone warrior limped.
Impelled by a spirited misanthropy, he plied the
idle partitions of mind and thirst.
An orphaned amorist, passionate, but alone.
And as he stumbled, the adders whispered hoarsely, and
the diodes siphoned the darkness, revealing the
atrophy, the phantom.
The showering bits, hardwired through his dreams,
despised his trophy; reality.
It was stormy with the pathos of insanity...
---===|||===---
And still, he wandered vainly through this parched land,
searching; His reward glimmering quietly across the code,
which danced between his groping fingers.
Aphorisms roamed in the chaos, and margins shifted
as he compiled the disorder which roared within his mind.
Slowly, his child emerged. At last, execution!
---===|||===---
But the young one, so perfect, so delicate, required more
than he could give. The decision was made...
| end parent process |
Snake has been created to deter,
A symbol of power, sex and fear,
Equated with Satan Lucifer and demons in rear,
History where, millions of species,
To speak about listen and hear,
They are Pythons longer enough to devour,
An entire human and swallow him and more,
Anacondas that make your body shiver,
And plenty of fairy and fact stories and lore,
To inform your kind and enrich your folklore,
Adders, vipers and spitting cobras,
That all leave you awake,
Able to cause you death and blindness fainting and ache,
The secret of creation which the Lord could make,
And other species that camouflage themselves and fake,
You in deep jungles, rivers and forests and the alike!
PHOTOPHOBIANS RECOIL...
the deal is sealed
and the season
ceases to be
too far from fair
for the foul lair
of Master Bull-
frog frowns open
to reveal rats
who race to ruin
like muddled moles
who prance on polls
they dread to dote
on for fear of
Scale they scorn to
mount because of
loss of weight in
the people's call
caught in its Flame
which clings like curse
to People's Cause
that now is fought
in new vision
of born-again
state or nation
to prick puppet
to strip stooges
who seek to see
our local apes
or country crooks
like puff-adders
kill kith and kin
before 10/11
clads in garb of
9/11
Uncle Sam dreads
to hear just like
frogs and state-toads
with drear delight
cringe when they hear
"LET THERE BE LIGHT!"
which will expose
photophobians
caught in cruel caves
whence they recoil....
She wandered slowly through the woods,
Admiring bluebells, ferns and trees;
The sound of birdsong in her ears,
Accompanied by buzzing bees.
She sat beside a little stream
And watched the fishes swimming by,
The water tasted fresh and cool -
Such beauty made her want to cry.
But pungent garlic plants around
And insects crawling, biting now,
The adders hissing in the grass,
All made her feel on edge somehow.
She wondered where the stream would lead
And wasn’t sure which trail to take;
The sun was fading, she was lost -
She thought she even saw a snake.
She heard the sound of snapping twigs
And then a hulking shadow loomed,
She turned around and stared in fear:
Struck dumb, she knew that she was doomed…
Jack Horne for Francine’s Nature Tale contest
8th October
Hopkins snakes
Old Hopkins had a rope ladder,
To keep snakes out of the house,
Snake killing sticks under the rain water tank,
In the shower, where a snake ate the mouse,
The fowls all lived up in the trees,
Brownies were sucking eggs down, (deadly mulga snakes, dozens)
The bantams were sitting on eggs in bird nests,
Till the chickens were walking around,
Half wacked Jack, demented, said some,
Went to see a drover come through,
On a grey brumby horse, naked of course,
An was strip bollicky too, (horse riding naked)
Hopkins he said “me two best friends,
Are me shovel an hurricane light,”
He’d be punching holes ,
With crowbar alone ,
And fencing on into the night,
So if ya go near StGeorge ,
where the snakeys do gorge,
dodge death, climb up the rope ladder,
if the brownies don’t get ya,
death adders aint better,
just go to the pub it’s your shout!
Don Johnson 10-sep-11
I like this one because it is true story
Destroyer A Poet ~
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