Best Barons Poems
Feeling the desolation, of smothering air
Hemmed in by crowds; the obliqueness of fear
Throng of the city and no sight of the sun
Incessant noise and the desire to just run.
And I drive.
Arterial routes clogged by metal and wheels
Schizophrenic drivers living others ideals
Neon and lights sizzling the sides of the streets
Marketing signage, greed’s consumer receipts.
And I drive.
White picket fences, roses, and manicured lawns
Ridiculous box housing, erected for ludicrous pawns
Playgrounds, big supermarkets, cafes and parks
Sprawling suburbia with its pools built by sharks.
And I drive
Warehouses dispensing the needs of the hordes
Industrious factories like cash castles of lords.
Sawmills busily feeding more desecration of land
Refuse collection sites completely sterile and bland.
And I drive.
Ten-acre barons on frivolous bundles of dirt
Escaping urbanity in the unproductive outskirts.
Postage stamp fields supporting ponies and kids
While toffee nose parents sit in ultra posh digs.
And I drive
Paddocks of cattle dispersed through productive farmland
Shiny new tractors with men toughened and tanned
Marshmallow hay bales pimple the face of the ground
Irrigators urinate on earth until drowned.
And I drive.
Magnificent mountains covered in beckoning trees
Clear running streams and whispering breeze
Wild flowers gently waving as robins flit all around
Radiant true colours and smoothing calm sounds.
And yes I am home.
Categories:
barons, change, conflict, nonsense,
Form:
Rhyme
Dragon fell asleep at his nappy time, and his dreams were so sublime.
He’d just heard the song, ‘Snoopy Vs The Red Baron’, one more time.
That Plus ‘Snoopy’s Christmas’, both were… very old… favorites of mine!
And, I swear to you… this is how his dreams… Really… did align…
Snoopy’s Dog House was in for repair. His little mechanic bird friends…
Were working feverishly making repairs for Snoopys’ next battle to begin.
But as the time drew near… Snoopy couldn’t wait… He couldn’t be late.
A Duel of honor had been struck, and it was time for the Red Baron’s fate.
He’d AGAIN appear! Snoopy had to be there at dawn, to fight for our team.
To save our beloved Life, Liberty, Freedom, and the great American Dream.
The Red Baron was never late, or missed, this duel! He yearly repeated…
It was the anniversary of his greatest loss. This, he wanted! No! He needed!
This was, once again, his chance to Win! So Snoopy did the amazing thing!
He called on Dragon to see him thru! Yes, Dragon would supply the wings.
He’d be in a dog fight with Snoopy, against the Red Baron, to the bitter end.
What the Red Baron didn’t know was… he didn’t stand a chance, my friend.
Not with these two Super heroes, together, and they did start out, so true!
At least, until Snoopy’s machine gun jammed! Oh! What would they do??!!
Freedom Simply Couldn’t Be Lost, when it didn’t go, as they had planned!
But never fear, with Dragon here, at Snoopy’s inventive, brilliant command!
Snoopy called on Dragon’s most wonderous, Top Secret Strength, acquired!
Yep, you guessed! He had Dragon spit out, Really, Great, Big Balls of Fire!
Naturally that couldn’t be beat! Better yet, as The Red Baron leaned in…
Diving from above! Dragon did the greatest Loop de Loop EVER SEEN!
Yep, He ended up, right behind the Red Baron’s illustrious, flying machine!
Then Snoopy let his Dragon of War loose, to do his special thing, so keen!
And as you guessed, the tail of the Red Barons’ plane, caught fire, so sweet!
Sending him home… in a massive, humbling, complete and utter DEFEAT!
The moral of this story is: Never Mess with our… American Super Heroes!
Dedicated to the True Heroes of 9/11, the First Responders, and our Amazing
Soldiers… They’re the best the World will ever see!
Written 9-11-2015
Categories:
barons, appreciation, courage, dedication, devotion,
Form:
Light Verse
*I've been called a 'shrew,' told I am self centered, petty, and a few other rather insulting and invective names, so here is my rebuke.
Who plays the straight man for the one known as 'Schmoe?'
It's the Jester who juggles where ever Schmoe tells him to go.
Then there's Mr. DoGoody who seeks the spotlight of fame,
reproaching PS poets by pointing his finger at them in shame.
Three fatuous figures who lie in wait for Poetry Soup blogs
Croaking like three pompous bullfrogs in criticizing dialogues
Verbal abusers, slanderer of a nation, and he who prances
hoping to give Schmoe, his bro, the stage... the lackey dances.
It's a tragic case of fools rushing in where wiser men never go
A disease suffered by the egos of DoGoody, Jester, and Schmoe
A threesome pretending they're Red Barons in control of awacs
but they're just three old wacky muggins, Poetry Soup Quacks.
Ask a question and see what nonsense they will spew at you
Swearing their intent is righteous, and their cause is true blue,
but the more they protest, the deeper the holes they are digging.
A misguided clique always zagging when they should be zigging.
So if you bother to read what they write, just consider this...
the underlying meaning to their dribble shows what's amiss.
It's a game they play...one where they often make mistakes
Nuts have to be added to the batter while making a fruitcake
Now if you're thinking I'm just as guilty for some name calling,
I'm ready to be under attack with their whining and squalling.
I've already been accused by DoGoody of talking behind his back...
So here I am, you're all unblocked if you want to talk more smack.
Categories:
barons, parody,
Form:
Rhyme
Night falls, and she stood up quickly,
Brushed up swiftly, arranged her
Hair briefly yet attracted, for her
Beauty, and smooth face like the
Surface of her chest...
She walked to the door slowly,
Turned gently, and stirs at herself subtly
From head to toe, then to her mirror
Which she earlier disdained.
Her hand bag contained
Preservatives protecting her horror,
Midnight she is a terror,
Daylight, an innocent beauty,
If you see her you will want her
As your lady, to make you matrimonially busy,
And happy.
But, try her and see, you will
Have yourself to blame after burning you up like flame,
Guys in new york calls her BEACH,
After they tried, but her
Heart they never REACH.
Wall street barons see her and flee, for she stings like a bee,
And her deception, they never
Want to see.
Las Vegas Cassino is also her prey,
To most night lovers, her tentacles
She spray.
If she smile you will think she is shy,
If she talks, you hear a nightingale,
But when you look into her profile,
You will find out she is filthy and guilty,
She is the immoral beauty...
Categories:
barons, satire
Form:
Narrative
I don't mix with Barons , Princes or Earls
I don't desire diamonds, Rubies or pearls
I envy no one be they poor or rich
but tell me you love me and I am bewitched.
Those are not words that should be used to deceive
For when you are lonely, You want to believe
You long to hear someone utter those words
So casually uttered but so truthfully heard.
So often you told me, So often you lied
Bitter revelation and a part of me died
My heart was broken , Broken in two
My mind was tormented with memories of you.
So pleased I learned the hard lessons of youth
Protected myself by speaking the truth
Soon I grew stronger because I knew I must
I know there is someone out there in whom I can trust.
I regret nothing because my love was true
I have wonderful memories of things we would do
but one twisted thought just won't leave my head
So I delight in telling you , You were rubbish in bed.
Categories:
barons, heartbroken,
Form:
Verse
Poetry...the primary inevitable response to tyranny
- Daniel Berrigan
Clear water running in the spring creek, flows
from every newborn's heart. Around the bend
coruption pollutes our thoughts with consumerism,
paths of mutual destruction and madness
modeled on the nightly news.
Still, the pure well in our hearts runs deep, frustrating
the robber-barons of our souls.
Food we eat, politics we endorse, come under
increased scrutiny as truth refreshes.
Pinnacles of power topple as their pawns
resist in ever increasing numbers.
Manufactured enemies (self-sourced) created
to control history by providing security
from fear are now seen in the light of day
as what they truly are, enslavement.
Arm-in-arm, hand-in-hand
people are waking up to to their inalienable
rights to freedom and liberty for all.
The time is now to stay vigilant, neo-cons
increasingly will create rolling disasters, meant
to ignite fear only they
(by our abjudication of freedom and liberty)
can resolve.
Never waver, never relent, peacefully
resist.
04/04/15
4 am
© All Rights Reserved
Categories:
barons, truth,
Form:
Free verse
The Baron de Pontalba
I have many times tried to imagine the Baron de Pontalba first strolling through the New Orleans alleyways attempting to focus on his under construction French Quarter Decatur Street buildings. The year was 1834 and never could I have imagined that some 184 years later I would be the owner of his last construction before he returned to France but then I couldn't imagine him shooting his daughter in law four times and her surviving to build the Pontalba apartments. Special thanks to the Baron de Pontalba for I
Could not imagine
selling the barons building
leaving me wealthy
Categories:
barons, mentor,
Form:
Haibun
More than twelve hundred souls
Meet their watery grave.
German U-boat patrols
Spark a fatal shockwave.
This echo of the past
Resounds throughout history.
Rousing war unsurpassed,
Deadly shroud of mystery.
The empire aids Cunard,
Loaning millions in pounds.
Lord Inverclyde toils hard
On deceptions unsound.
They hide admiralty
Within their merchant fleet,
And in reality
War barons plot deceit.
Famed cruiser so agile
Brings home the Blue Riband.
Propellers prove fragile,
New designs would respond.
While retooling the craft,
Gun mountings are installed.
Hidden away most daft
Down where the ropes are hauled.
However they decide
To switch their new design.
Large cargo holds shall hide
Munitions in her spine.
War with Germany starts
With land mines and blockades.
America builds parts
While Britain launches raids.
The Isles become war zones
With no sure passage back.
Submarines would throw stones
To sink the Union Jack.
So Daniel Dow protests
This British smuggling ring.
The prior chief suggests
Attacks these loads will bring.
A German message warns:
"Huge risk at British sea!
If allied flags adorn,
They'll be hacked to debris!"
Captain Turner is picked
To lead the merchant ship.
"Speed shall avoid conflict
On this momentous trip."
Voyage two hundred-one
Departs Pier 54
Under a watchful sun,
Fresh ammo in her store.
Steaming toward Fastnet Rock,
Bowler Bill seeks advice.
Three ships are sunk in shock,
Warnings are confirmed twice.
Posting double look-outs,
They ready the lifeboats.
Bill secures a black out
While taking careful notes.
Thirty miles from Cape Clear,
The vessel enters fog.
Weather thwarts so severe
The captain slows their slog.
The periscope spots them
As orders are passed down.
One button shall condemn,
Destruction all around.
The Old Head of Kinsale
Watches the missile glide.
The bomb shreds to assail
Those weapons stowed inside.
Categories:
barons, history, warwar, war,
Form:
Ballad
Come back with me to twelve fifteen,
To Runnymede, a royal scene.
A water meadow by the Thames,
A site of world significance.
The royal assent to set men free
Enacted here for all to see.
King John had taxed his barons hard
To finance wars he couldn't win.
A reckoning was on the cards –
His barons now had snared their king,
To limit his powers was their aim
And free their lands; the church, the same.
Here was the Magna Carta, and although
Signed and sealed eight hundred years ago,
This famous charter is our legacy,
The fledgling roots of our democracy.
Categories:
barons, anniversary, history,
Form:
Couplet
You hear voices in the bar room, making merry, making a toast
They have offices and homes, but here is where they laugh most
Men from all walks of life, united under the banner of strong drinks
Here you can be yourself without caring what the world thinks
When God made the world and everything in it
He knew without alcohol it would not be complete
He gave birds wings, and waved them as they flew
Then he gave men, the knowledge to brew
Men have conquered the world drunk on spirits and wines
Drinking men have grabbed pens and drawn crooked lines
Dividing the world into nations, printing it on fancy maps
The borders are crooked because warlords were drunk, perhaps!
Poor men and beggars have known what it feels to be kings
When they drink, they get drunk, and poverty no longer stings
Unmarried women and maids know what it feels to be a lady
When they drink, they are beautiful, for they can’t hold the mirror steady
If God had made man out of clay and wine instead of blood
He would never have had to send mankind the great flood
Men would have obeyed his word and Noah would not have built the ark
Wine is good for the heart; no one would ever die of a heart attack
Or if God had filled the oceans with wine instead of water
The world would be a place of great and endless laughter
Men walking around with jars full of wine and hearts full of love
Singing songs on sailing boats, no landlords and oil barons to serve.
Now here we live, a world where they trade the wines and spirits
Chemically induced, cleverly marketed, to bring in more digits
Still we flock to bars and liquor shops, if our time and money can afford
To partake this strong drink, in pursue of happiness that is fraud.
Has it caused more harm than good, the alcoholic beverage?
Are there more accidents, than men with forgotten rage?
When they drink, they may not be socially coherent
But they are happy, so alcohol must be God sent
Categories:
barons, drink,
Form:
Rhyme
To Brexit or not to Brexit
by Bob Moore
One thousand years, it’s almost been
since William came to this island green
defeated Harold on Hastings Hill
to the English it was a bitter pill
He was the last the world would see
to invade this land successfully
and started Britain on its way
to being the country it is today
His descendants ruled throughout the land
the Barons made John sign the Charter Grand
and started Britain on a path you’d see
where all the people could be free
That freedom grew across the years
through war, and strife, through joy and tears
then politicians had their dreams
a Common Market, their future schemes
Many countries share their toil
to grow the food, and till the soil
to work together, as partners should
as equals, for the common good
But then it started to go wrong
it was not equal, and so the strong
began to wield the power now
unelected bureaucrats to tell us how
Our borders now are not our own
others decide who calls Britain home
those other people make the rules
and treat us like an Isle of Fools
The French, the Germans , the Spanish too
have tried to tell Britain what to do
but a Thousand Years we’ve kept them at bay
that is , we have, until today
From Agincourt, and Flanders Field
we’ve paid our dues not ones to yield
Trafalgar, Dunkirk, Normandy
Our Fathers fought so we’d be free
now we may vote it all away
and this is our last chance to say
to the faceless ones across the sea
we are still Britain, we are still free
Categories:
barons, england, patriotic, political,
Form:
Rhyme
Everything was property of the state
life of a serf didn't even rate
tyranny from Lords,Dukes and Barons
production of goods,they weren't sharin'....
Coxcomb magistrate castle seneschal
internal scheming took alot of gall
court intrigue was their special interest
todays politics aren't that different....
A new portal behind every door
a gambit of play being explored
every encounter a game of chance,but,
what do you bear,the cross or the lance?
Crucified was understanding and peace
self improvement were messages laced
drawing together opposing views
in hope that the scattered may be imbued...
But,the North didn't like that ideo
divide and conquer their modeled credo
superior force their specialty
as divided bands are managed easily...
Plantation,indian reservation...
one produces,the other reduces,
civilization,or planned domestication,
one infuses the other defuses,
West Bank,the Gaza Strip
others kept in seperation
docile,servile,beware becoming sterile,
the active mind to waste away
the fallen... entropy to atrophy,
human spirit refuses degradation
treading deliberate indoctrination...
The taming of the animal nature
still engrossed in pain and pleasure,
law required to maintain civility
until we can achieve a true humanity...
Peace is still the want of many
when will humanity be truly ready
we make the choice of what we covet
true soul'diers serve minute by minute...
A new portal behind every door
a gambit of play being explored
every encounter a game of chance,but,
what do you bear...the Cross or the Lance?
( the cross and the lance are symbols
of the old kingdom beliefs of ruling,
with either mildness and severity or
the olive branch and the sword )
Categories:
barons, history, political
Form:
Free verse
When shadows fall across embattled land
Dusk creeps slowly westward over the plains
Comes a wailing, howling of the coyotes
Searching for prey among the dry creek runs.
Thirsty animals, like humans, take risks
Seek out the sweet nectar of the rainclouds
Potable water, life’s necessity
This cracked earth, barren of tillable soil.
Given for our homeland--great Sioux nation
And Lakota--once land of thunderbeasts!
Our land carved from brokenness and hardship
For generations we courageous fought.
We will never surrender one acre
To greedy Eastern oil-hungry barons
Not one dried-up ditch for a leaden pipe
Winding across our sacred tear-stained soil.
Categories:
barons, america, home, life, people,
Form:
Blank verse
I’m So Much Better for the Magna Carta
I feel so much better for the Magna Carta,
Can trace atheism and humanism’s roots,
Can define that moment of clarity,
When individualism and free-thinking were to rule and roost;
I know the time philosophy changed,
From people as state/monarchy property,
To making their liberty into the king’s concern,
When the law became a place of security.
I can comprehend the specifics of the document,
To state common folks rights and chattels,
Can accept it needed barons, church and king,
To agree to certain terms and conditions;
Can reason why god was upheld as lawful,
Being the people’s recreation and heart at the time,
Can feel the rush of glad tidings that swept throughout the land,
When all citizens received an existential, fair and equal stand.
Although politicians and companies stand on their own,
It's the law that pumps their blood, fuels their fire,
Makes us feel safe in our much loved homes,
Cases the achievement of the success story and graduate in gold;
It lavishes love on the inconsolable victim, cold with hurt,
Pours restraint on the unstable, intending criminal mind,
It encourages all to engage in life with reason and rationality.
And loves with quietness radicals, jostlers and free-thinkers bold.
Categories:
barons, appreciation, passion, patriotic, people,
Form:
Rhyme
The Magna Carta changed the rule of law,
That is, what the law was and who it was for,
From being a simple, dashing validation of the king,
To being about truth, reason and justice free-standing.
The Charter came into existence in 1215 with a rebellion,
Against King John and how he forced his will:
He could seize anyone’s cart, steal anyone’s livelihood,
Take their corn to dismiss whatever self-worth they’d tilled.
The barons and churches were given power:
Rights from illegal imprisonment and theft of money;
The church was allowed to worship and theologise,
Until John was not a legitimate monopolising authority.
However, church rights were only important,
Because in those days God was the small talk;
The conversation point and heartfelt social cause,
Such that religion became the concern of the first clause.
The Charter let ordinary people become,
Individual citizens, equal human beings to the king;
Saved them from their position as submissive servants,
Made them represented, and eventually self-ruling.
It allowed for the charging of taxes,
To raise an army of representative citizens,
Fit for the job of fighting and controlling,
Rather than simply enlisting those who were just willing.
Individualism as a pejorative term,
First appeared in the 1830s from the Owenites;
John Stuart Mill fostered and influenced it greatly,
Such that it's now a non-negotiable fundamentality.
Political governance needs individualism,
Albeit not as much as the tories would say;
Existentialism succeeded it and is implied by it,
Because meaning is your call and not the monarchy’s play.
There were many more Charters after that,
And they all specified the ordinary persons right,
To a fair trial and to state justice yourself,
With your imprisonment being your prison officer’s fight.
Rights and liberties pre-exist their enforcement,
And the original Magna Carta admitted that stout;
Gave people their intrinsic worth as human beings,
Created a people-centred land of devolved clout.
Categories:
barons, community, corruption, god, history,
Form:
Rhyme