~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
O crooked architect of thrones,
who stacked your realm on children’s bones~
How shall I curse thee?
Not with fire, nor with plague’s black breath,
nor with the slow unspooling of your death
(though history grants you that).
No. Let the curse be this:
that every mirror cracks before your face,
that every hound you feed still wears York’s scent,
that every victory tastes of Hastings’ blood
that your crown grows thorns.
that your prayers be answered,
that the ghosts arrive punctually~
no missed entrances, no skipped lines
and let them stand just so,
in perfect blocking,
downstage of your guilt.
And when at last the horses fail,
and the crown is traded for a nail,
may you hear,
beneath the drumbeat’s battle royal,
the same question, endlessly rehearsed:
Was it worth the play?
So many beauties to choose from,
None could be referred to as scum.
They becloud my sense of duties ~
To choose from, so many beauties
Many of them wear their smiles proud,
My sense of duties they becloud.
Their hearts beg for true love and care.
Their smiles proud, many of them wear.
The love I will give, none can peg,
For true love and care, their hearts beg.
My sin of lust, they will forgive.
None can peg the love I will give.
I have to earn their love and trust,
They will forgive my sin of lust.
To be loyal, my heart will learn ~
Their love and trust, I have to earn.
To win in this battle royal,
My heart will learn to be loyal.
I will discard lust as a sin,
In this battle royal, to win.
I have no regard
for other poets
how could it be other
As they conscript
the words away
of which I’ve not discovered
A battle royal
zero sum
as phrases block and parry
The winner left
his voice reclaimed
— the loser most disparaged
(The New Room: February, 2024)
Satan hides
within the shadows
Among your thoughts
his evil trolls
His masquerade
beyond the body
Feigning silence
inside your soul
He takes up space
at God’s indulgence
The part he plays
unscripted low
In brimstone’s fire
he finds acceptance
From prodigals
his demon’s flow
The battle royal
lasts forever
Cast in darkness
waits his throne
To live in shame
while unrepentant
A trillion souls
—one more to go
(Dreamsleep: January, 2024)
Dredged from the depths of my brain
The rich treasure of love with its heartfelt pain
Sinking back into the clouded mire
Yet my thoughts yearn to rise higher
But dragged down by carnal lust
From that weight escape I must
Bubbles of laughter and mirth to the surface break
But then that overpowering passion my heart does take
Between head and heart the battle royal
Your siren shape does me fully embroil
Why ,oh why is my flesh so weak
That your burning kisses I cannot but seek
Now I sink deep beneath the waves
To drink of the moist passions my body so craves.
Daylight fades
As the pond jumps to life
Under the full moon
The call of the loon
Frogs croaking
Crickets chirping
Busy buzz of the dragonfly
Snake on the hunt
Slithering
Stalking
Flick of the tongue
Under the full moon
The yipping of the coyotes
Raccoon washes
The crayfish he snags
Bass jump
Catfish roll
Blue Heron fishes
In the lily pads
Under the full moon
Up for a fresh look
Turtle takes a breath
All are hungry
Battle royal
Hunt
Hide
Run
All night long
Until when
The sun returns again
God is waiting to meet us in a garden called Gethsemane
Essential to our relationship with God is spending time with Him
There will always be a 'battle royal of temptations' to avoid this place
Human-defined happiness and personal fulfillment cannot be found here
Serenity to God's will is the highest achievement to be found in Gethsemane
Emptying of our fleshly goals and selfish ambitions take place in Gethsemane
More of God is the golden discovery, and less of us is the greatest victory
Ascension of God's Glory and the descension of our will are what happens here
Newness, restoration, repentance, resurrection, and revival are conceived here
Every part of our being and the deepest areas of our hearts are dealt with here
04202019FBPoSoup
Popeye and Pluto
Fought a battle royal
Over a thin vial
Of virgin Olive Oil
We shared the good things…
We made the best clings!
We rock everything!
We rule anything.
These just define us.
Started to mess…
Stained your white dress.
All out of war
Is what you want
Prepare for
A battle
Of royals.
Let’s get…
Things on!
Match!
There was a bated hush over the arena
people watched the warriors fight the lion
it was a battle royal, much needed was stamina
they could not complete their task without it
Fearful of his power and strength
they fought mightily to overcome him
knowing if he got loose he would attack
ripping them from limb to bloody limb
The crowd gasped in hot excitement
secretly they wanted the lion to break free
they were there for blood, the more the better
just so long as it was not their own
The fight carried on some men mauled
as the lion tugged them close
bleeding they were carried off
more warriors took their place
Cheers go up as the mighty lion is overpowered
legs bound up he roars in frustration
the warriors stand round jeering
one grasps his spear and strikes deep
The lion gives a final defiant roar
as he lies blood pouring out
he starts to shake with shock
as his heart pumps to a stop
The smell of battle sweat and blood
hang heavily in the air intoxicating
the cheers fade to a silent respect
the honor that is paid to a worthy foe
written 12/01/2013
contest Ancient Egypt
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