Bandied Poems

As We Metamorphose

As people, we have begun to change,
Incrementally, thoughts rearrange.
Are we still the person we once seemed?
Or, were our thoughts seduced as we dreamed?

Words bandied about of kindness, good,
thoughtfulness, we felt we understood,
We now discard them, trading for lies,
as dollar signs dance before our eyes.

Perhaps life imprints each memory,
as good or bad, however perceived.
Faintly, it's then passed into a gene,
to be reborn to a new lifestream.

Will humans evolve; will cyborgs advance?
Will warring end, will Earth get a chance?
Will we find the values we have lost?
Will we remember what loss has cost?

Jet Lag

I hear the term bandied about
azure seas, endless beach,
Thinking of the far off lands
That took days and days to reach. 

Longing for the tropics,
Baffled by the length of flight,
To finally land on distant shores, 
Unaware if day or night. 

Dark and light, time zones
Knowing relatives who sleep
Dwell in the antipodean 
As toward the sun we creep. 

Someone is always waking
While another rests their head,
One arrives at work
And a further breaks daily bread. 

Gaining hours, losing days,
Tired beyond all hope,
Modern travel is too fast
For the body-clock to cope.

Carnival of Carnivals

I watch carnival of carnivals quickly unfold
intense barkers are yelling as if their large bears are gold
seeing ultimate thin man and fat lady never gets old
fortune tellers are so unique, they’ve created their mold

tickets are being traded, fought over, bought and sold.
elaborate stories are being bandied about in the cold.
silver is crossing palms, upsells are extremely bold.
acrobats are doing tricks with agile bodies that fold.

from the tilt-a-whirl ride an old man just fell and rolled.
kewpie dolls nod from their shelves inside the fold.
merry-go-round horses are touched up with gold.
old women are wearing minks, flashing that they're stolled.

carnival of carnivals is a treat that never gets old.
cotton candy is pink and puffy, spun right out of gold.
tickets are being traded, fought over, bought and sold.
traveling from town to town, her tales quickly unfold.

The Scent of Summer's Day

Breezes on boardwalks
                 that carry its essence
Suntans are fragranced
                   by its very presence
Beach balls are bandied
                        within its cachet
Whitecaps that rush salted
                         flurries my way

Taffy that’s pulling my nose
                               to the door
Sugared delight
                   cotton candy galore
Coconut sandies that
                          flavor my eyes
One whiff of chocolate
             I’m hooked, no surprise

Perfume of lemons
                    on girls strolling by
Peanuts’ aroma
                       by gift of the sky
French Fries and burgers
                  and hot dogs for you
Make everybody
                 know just what to do



Oh, how I long for
          the scent of Summer’s day

The Words, I Can'T

The Words, “I Can’t”
Miracle Man
3/14/2022

“I can’t” is a phrase
frequently bandied about.
Words that originate
in a mind cloaked in doubt.
We could just as easily say
“I think I can”.
Then scramble to search
for a workable game plan.

Angel and Devil Play Chess

Who dares go to that chess game? The stars asked the sky, so red. 
The sun did not answer, she was not privy to enough information.
It is the game of the century. Devil against angel, a peacock said.
This meant nothing; he was braggadocio, and seldom made sense.

The next time I heard of this contest, it was bandied about by chicks.
They were throwing out chess terms like checkmate and rook.
I tried to act uninterested as they discussed this with subtle eye flicks.
They are kidding, some argued. They have read the prophecy book. 

What is happening? A nosy rooster demanded in a persnickety way. 
I was glad that there were plenty of seats, and entry was free. 
Sweet angel and nasty devil sat down and began to intensely play. 
I noticed that they are both women, which made perfect sense to me.

Things

What is it that we keep to ourselves
Those things not for others to delve
We keep hidden away from the crowd
Not to be taken paraded and bandied out loud

Do you think about them all the time
Telling yourself it will be just fine
Or do they fester and bubble away
Taunting you whilst you keep them at bay.

© Paul Warren Poetry

Victims of Government

I have waited my summons to the eternal silence
Bandied about from mouth to mouth
And barricaded the road to truth and lies
Beneath the cold glare of the desolate night.

Many people have died on this ground
Exquisitely stung by the thought
I sighed deeply, from a kind of mental depletion
Because I know not why my death was delayed.

The bullet and stabbed wounds on me were deep
My buried hopes have long rotten
The bleak future remained darkened
And I fell into the blackest melancholies.

No job, no shelter, no food, no voice 
And no respect for our fundamental human rights
We have been the victims of bad government
And utterly detached from life and the dividends of democracy.

Ecclesia De Veritate

Do we worship a concept
we cannot define

Do we dig for a treasure
that we’ll never find

Is the belief that it’s there,
enough to forge on

In perpetual failure,
no words to our song

Do we feel we’re the closest
when the bottom falls out

To be left further back,
and then bandied about

Does it even exist,
is it worth all the pain

The searching and fighting,
and what’s there to gain

Enduring the hardship
its pilgrimage holds

Because life without truth,
all body—no soul

To die unenlightened
and scarred from the search

Still a legacy worthy
—in veracity’s church

(Augustinian Cemetery: September, 2020)

Lilitu's Lament

Tussel for power trained her tongue to sharpen
Tact resistant throat bellowed careless scorn
Potential friends' impressions began to darken

Sharpness of wasabi, harsh memories injected
Frontal lobe numbed, chased non existant dawn 
Self image slashed, frayed fragments protected

Overpowering was triumph, in her odd summation
Trampling perspective romance, before it was born
Aggression shrugged on, hard armor of domination

Swooping on prey with strident screech, hook talons 
Flashing vengeance at every turn, a bandied sword
Combating stance slices hearts in half, no challenge 

Her hurtful words were weapons, feelings' neglect
Evil clenched a crusted clump, grew gross, ignored
Repugnant bulge, cancerous cruel crept unchecked 

Charm which lured folks religiously, flung them ruthless
Ice in vicious veins fed malicious mouth, a habit abhorred 
Path obscured by pain unresolved, killed kind maneuvers 




15th September 
... For Ace.....

Children Learn From Others

sage slivers of truth 
bandied about by children
who learn from parents

absolutism
learned at daddy’s knees
reinforced by mom

school shakes them up
new ideas from others
often changing them

not from the teachers
from their knowledgeable peers
who know everything

Moral Decay

Moral Decay
(A Tom Wright opinion)
1-3-2020

Our country is now mired in moral decay,
By the actions of many, being coddled today.
Attitudes are bad and our skins are too thin,
And its all come about because of mankind’s sin.
Two words I hear bandied are racist and bully,
I wonder if many grasp their meaning fully.
Or do they just fit the narrative which they allege,
Some spend each day attempting to drive this wedge.
Social media allows speech not said face to face,
This cowardly behavior is an outright disgrace.
Some nitpick and whine over words in a speech,
Indoctrinating minds with things we can’t unteach.


“what is morally wrong cannot be politically right”
William Gladstone

Extinction

I,

at risk

Hawaiian.

Soon on list as

gone.




***In the 60's, 'twas bandied about, that we numbered less than 2,000 full-blood Hawaiians that are left. Dread the thought, how many of me are left. Aloha, William Kekaula

Cursed

Cursed is a word that's sometimes bandied about
But in this case, it's bang on, there's absolutely no doubt
A car so possessed
Causing continued distress
Giving it away finally ended the enormous big ouch

Onward Christian Soldier

a cavalcade wept ashore with frenzy like a beastly bus
oblivious of tribes who blissfully dealt without a fuss
triangulated within an ever narrowing pen
contaminated, decimated, eradicated “red” men
once a collection of indigenous separate “nations” 
plucked by invaders who usurped america as their den
releasing poison couched as religion into the air
which indignities true colors became readily clear
when europeans “discoverers” fomented war-fare
to those who found themselves in deadly cross hair
every inch of “new world” grimly rustled in every lair
with deadly piping hot metallic bullets with near
with unfamiliar customs on par with a satyr
without means to escape any direction they did veer
cohesion of unity did annihilate without a trace 
that belonged to those who stood apart as separate race
paraded as “exotic specimens” in some faraway place
bandied about as if some rare refined silken lace
of their rightful home by chicanery tactics base
to banality, effrontery, hostility though dined
with travesty from Europeans whose dreams lined
against so called original occupants who got maligned.

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