Best Bloc Poems
There once reigned a great king on our Rock
Who dared the West and defied their bloc
Dark shades, face of a frown
Short brute so wanted down
Down, oriental appples on our Rock.
ignoring ignorance annoys the ignorant ~ indulge them? I can't
same old redundant story ~ on a soap box for an ounce of glory
too much of the same old chatter ~ spewed from the mouth of a Mad Hatter
Alice will gladly pet the Cheshire Cat ~ if it'd make him chase a rat
to all en bloc, don't swallow that drink ~ write your own poetry with ink
“Put on the dauntless spirit of resolution”. ~ By William Shakespeare
Meet this dweller of the icy continent
Among the few, he is the chief occupant
Out in that territory, it is freezing cold
With nothing but a sea of whiteness to behold
In this far stretching desert of ice
Live the emperor penguins wise
They are birds erect, not designed for flight
Neatly dressed in suits of black and white
They remind us of nuns dressed in white
With hoods in black and souls contrite
The penguins thrive in snow and sleet
That to them is never an easy feat
Over the ice they smoothly waddle
And in water with flippers, they paddle
Strangely, it is in the peak of winter they breed
When nature goes scarce with food to feed
After a period of intimate courtship
Into responsible parenthood they slip
The female lays a single egg
Never one more, even if we beg
Right away she goes on a feeding spree
Appointing her husband as designee
To guard over the egg and keep close watch
Until the young one is ripe to hatch
Do you know how it incubates the egg?
He balances it on the feet of his leg
Till the young one is out, he refuses to eat or drink
A rare sacrifice of which we can hardly think
In this period, he thrives solely on body fat
And in course, he loses half his weight
At last, from the egg, when the chick is out
It is not allowed to go to the ice direct
But is locked inside the parent’s brood pouch
Where the little one feels comfy as on a couch
If it ever dares to venture out
It will freeze to death, no doubt
The emperors thus live on the razor edge of life
And their lives with challenges are rife
Yet with dauntless resolution, they face their fate
And against all adversities, their life they celebrate
With their densely packed layers of plumage
They keep their bodies from serious damage
When comes the blasting breath of the blizzards
As a precaution to skim over the hazards,
From their territories, they rally en bloc together
Huddling tight for warmth in the biting weather
Don’t you think the penguin is an emperor
Who subdues his hostile territory with prudent care?
A longer version of the bird’s dauntless endeavor is our life
An arduous climb through perils, pain and strife!
now that Chavez is dead,
the american oil companies
chomping at the bit
begin to salivate & lick their lips,
seething
with the foam
of potent country-gutting
rabies---
for while he was alive,
Venezuela was one of the only
countries left,
who resisted the empire’s attempts to
penetrate it & whore it out to the
highest capitalist bidder---
with Chavez dead,
not only will the oil soon be drained from
within the borders of beautiful
Venezuela,
but so will die the social programs that Chavez
instilled,
those that had been used to combat the
extreme poverty which exists in the country,
those that the governments before Chavez did nothing to
prevent.
so goes Chavez,
so goes a bastion of anti-empire,
so goes a man who pushed Chomsky’s work at the
United Nations,
so goes a man who championed the bloc that
would resist the swallowing up of
Latin America by the
empire.
yes,
the vultures are hungry,
they are perched & ready---
rather than create green alternatives to the
reliance on oil,
they will suck every last drop &
make the world do their bidding,
creating a negative media firestorm
to shed hate upon a man who can no longer
defend himself,
just as they will the next who steps up to resist.
False promises and bold faced lies
From leaders we call men,
Too foolish, vain and unwise
It’s the election blues again.
Feign to believe the web they weave
With patient ears we listen,
Future balanced if they achieve
From deceitful eyes teeth glisten.
In principle, fate is our blame
Yet in our selfish pride,
Our judgment shadows woeful shame
Behind scapegoats fail to hide.
Ballot fiends they all may be
Watching poll numbers, plus or minus three,
What will their victory bring to me
After January twenty-three.
Subsidized youth sports, gun control
Child care dollars galore,
A policy a day, and truth be told
Campaign gifts are a chore.
What matters East-West-South ‘n North
Is that we get it right,
While opponents bicker back and forth
By cable, bus or flight.
Success depends on unity
Without it we’re a wreck,
While one side suffers mutiny
The Grits give Tories heck.
The separatist Bloc` says “Let us go”
Demanding sovereign freedom,
White margarine and one-tongued-signs
Does Canada really need them.
The answer is, quite simply, oui`
We cannot tear apart,
Instead, honor all with dignity
And make a brand new start.
While men debate with pointed fingers
On issues big or small,
Our neighbor’s fear of terror lingers
With plans to build a wall.
Five billion they shall not relinquish
While bring East to peace,
Infernal war fires ne’r extinguish
Diplomacy for lease.
Denying partnership in war
To Iraq we didn’t go,
And up in space where eagles soar
Again we said “Oh no”.
Canada is not the States
Their future is not ours,
While Bush comments on us, berates
His future quickly sours.
When we look back upon these days
In golden years of life,
Will mirrored lakes obscure with haze
Too thick for sharpened knife.
Or does the future hold great treasure
For Canadians, one and all,
With strength and courage beyond measure
Winter, Spring, Summer and Fall.
Like years before, each voter chooses
With hopes and dreams of change and glory,
But in the end there’s winners and losers
Different writer, same old story.
Scott Goldsberry
December 30, 2005
I am sick of eating those huge orange gourds cooked in pies -
And my little garden is choc-a-bloc with pumpkins this year;
But when carved out, they are the talk of the whole neighbourhood.
For Andrea’s contest
Nurturing poets to produce.
My motivational, poetical writing, spoken wordress muse.
In leading me to the speak easy cafe site.
To cause me initiating rites to write.
I am tattooing you.
These lines of poetry view.
Her medicine- just write- she administers like a poetic prescription
A writers treatment for bloc- no pre, nor post, just non existing that's her description
For tempting and hooking me back to my addiction.
Surprise! tattooeterized your name in this rendition.
U indelible watch within the ink.
A grateful gratitude laid you in this piece.
Cocked a pen - sprayed you like i shot a glock.
Your names bleeding- piercing lines-so i unlock this puzzling poetic tattoo thanking you.
COPLA 92 INVOCATION : This Bad Guy World
Is authority an entity
On its own or individual
Spiritual
Or is it en bloc bound by duty
A super individual
With no equal
Or composed of individuals
With their own fates and destinies
Tearing apart
All fed by powered victuals
Serving no higher Almighties :
Ships without port
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
Sweet Just the Way I Like It
you're a genius she moaned
there can only be so much money in circulation
he replied halfheartedly fingering her abacus
the moon arose sharp as a razor
and they set about creating a dynasty
a master race of thumb sucking idiots
that arose from the dead at midnight
with pretensions of divine right
she was a plump desert highway waitress
with a mile of sunny cleavage
a beckoning oasis of hope
to every butt sore trucker
he was a cadre from the Cro Magnon bloc
raised by the Sisters of Inchoate Ire
in a constant din of prayer
a model of pedagogical endurance
a time of war ravaged the land
the grip of the Dept. of Antiquities was strong
wizards made the oceans boil
mystics buskered the street corners
will work for the contemplation of food
a few actually knew something
but in practice were a bit too bent
by the wind blinded by repetition
to be true in the rigorous mortis sense
nothing to be done except perhaps
another detached from reality ******
now that the past was in hot pursuit
but the leibensborn are clever
and they were smuggled to safety
in boxes of radio parts
he picked up the Bardic Hour
on the Welsh Luftwaffe Network
she was wired to the 220 dryer circuit
and clicked through the channels
Gamble for Your Soul followed by
Ladies of Leisure followed by
Nearly Inaudible the game show
which asked the same question
if the picture is perfect is it changeable
this is how they ineluctably became
the enemy of both sides
the rim shots were deafening
but histrionics had worked in the past
you'd think we were defending against death
rather than a better data set
so it is with surface addiction
a searching modern art piece
From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/
Remember, centuries ago we met
I'th' glorious garden of a hillock.
Then the morose sun was about to set,
And euphoric birds were flying en bloc.
Yonder the crimson streaks reddened the clime
And thy visage adorned with unfurled love—
Strange and secluded beauty hard to mime
E'en by the variegated sky above.
The red river paled into a black brook
As our silhouettes made love to small stars—
A nonpareil nocturne from warblers’ nook
Let in it our conflux of hearts immerse.
The quaint queen of night made thy meek hair shine,
Till my famished lips coalesced with thine.
13th September, 2016
Regal in me
As a puppet strung in a rope
I remained tying with my bloc
Ever since I opened eyes and
Knew something with laugh
Regality soaked me as a morning loaf
As other I was said to follow with hard
To be gentle boy bearing 5 kilo load
Wept tightly aborting their alert
I remained failed in my regal
Sincere morality duties and obligations
I cultured lot of bore as herbs in horticulture
Still I bore a lot of pain in my reign
Remembering how to overcome modern regal
Those heavy awful teachings of others
Always perform to the effect of jet culture
Fly over the sky at tight right
Otherwise fall and sink in sea deep to die
Regal in me awakened more or less in life
Vertical horizontal diagonal fly
A kiss in the dream some time only freed me
I am the monarch in my blew regal
Classical test modernized facial
Removed hairs from thighs and hide
Very critical to accept with fair darling
In reality I am failure to digest in my regal
Matter of cosmos and let fly thought their
Sometime geared up high high in the bright sky
Ultimately downfall from there with great havoc to die
I never boarded in super jet fly
I invented a master plan for me to reign
Let standing myself in the monarch dream
A treat of tasteful opportunity,
If I stood first in the competition to win.
I remember redden face of lass
If she happened to raise rim of frock calf high
These days in my realm I need to bear
Two parallel mounds attract the eyes.
(alternately known as the Doubting Thomas Crown
Taj Mahal Cupid Affair)
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Fortunate (for me) thee bona fide "FAKE" Cupid
(aka Decoy Donald Duck
and side kickstarter Jay Rad,
colluded donning one alias,
which (former and latter)
amounted tube bing disguised incognito
as the cingular "Ivan Ha Bea Robber Baron),"
while same above placed
their System Of A Down on high alert
whereby, they unwittingly, fortunately,
and accidentally discerned disquieting "noise"
i.e. static electronic crackling
purportedly from nemesis, asper sans above
whereby broadcasters colluded
confusingly, congruously, and convincingly
as thee infamous digital (duplicity)
faux "Big Mac" Trump.
The chalkboard scratching, hair sprayed bouffant,
and knuckle crackling
appeared tubby the handiwork cleverly disguised
(as tinpot dictator antics of Moscow's version,
sans Putin on the ritz),
which decrypted garble (a fluke) as iterated above
strongly emanating via polygamous,
prestigious, and pseudonymous
pull no punches ploy
innocently convincing feigned
duo code named "Ashley Madison and Bert"
disclosing (when uncovered),
a heartless conspiracy in concert
with Sesame Street studded lesser known Muppets
pretending tubby oil tycoon Bedouins
intent to fleece "sensitive"
top secret military defense contracts,
which Russian motley crue ace double agents
intended this act of espionage thence sabotage
feted as a Black Sabbath Lupercalia feint
not for the faint hearted clubby fete
where Cupid given free rule of the roost
allowing, enabling and proffering
Cyrillic chattering Cherubim
hook cooked United States "figurative goose"
lock, stock and barrel, which stratagem
captured president unawares
and did significantly boost
Eastern Bloc reconnaissance (on par
with the Philadelphia Eagles
winning 2018 Super Bowl LII
which surprise clenching championship
wrought frenzied hoopla, gala, and bacchanalia
where barenaked ladies
cavorted nsync with beastie boys,
whence City of Brotherly love hoopla found
nearly every man, woman and child soused
(analogous to each person garnering
an early Sainted Patrick's pot of gold.
"Stalemate"
Words mean nothing
to me when the
sky is sucked out
from the lungs
of people
dying daily
where do I
put my love
when cities
are dying
lucid writing disappears
vacant, lost, dead
war orphans
stolen children
the beautiful
innocence torn
to pieces, parents
buried bloody
Stalemate
tear stained
souls stand up
fierce ghosts
arms holding guns
praying their
beautiful poems
glory
like a river runs
all my stories
are empty
lines of
murderous
crows
black shadows
sentences
locked
bullets
shoot the full stops
stalemate
waiting
in the
impossible place
another
Progressive Bloc
manifesting amnesty
watching
the sky fall
under
mushroom clouds
on a strange
new world
standing still
stalling for time
to kill
the venomous
monster
demon tsar
Voldemort
the devil sits aloof
playing chess
with his insanity
back to the wall
alone in his
frozen friendless
Kremlin
he’s a cowboy
when he’s triggered
standing still
stalling for time
watching
the sky fall
under
mushroom clouds
on a strange
new world
waiting
for Morning Star
to show his face
in a smoke filled
blue sky haze
riding bareback cavalry
he’s a cowboy
when he’s triggered
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
"My Love" / Florence & the Machine
https://youtu.be/cJmXCP5ErJQ
"I was always able to write my way out
Song always made sense to me
Now I find that when I look down
Every page is empty
There is nothing to describe
Except the moon still bright
against the worrying sky ..."
LYRICS/ "My Love", Florence & the Machine
https://genius.com/Florence-the-machine-my-love-lyrics
Men in Black,
Wear a Black,
Worry of Black.
War a Black...
Fear a Black,
Block a Black,
Lock the Black.
War on Black...
Luck a Black,
Unlocked Black,
Back in Black.
War of Black...
Mock a Black,
Knock a Black,
Back a Black
War of Black...
Worried Black,
Back in Bloc,
Bloc by Bloc,
War of Black...
Whole Black,
Comin' Back,
Omen Black,
Winnin'Black...
The Scientist
Author Message
Admin
Admin
Age : 53
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Subject: The Scientist Today at 10:53
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The Scientist
The Scientist
His arm pinned up against his briefcase only for one small moment of time he
almost felt fear but mostly astonishment that it could happen unto him at this
time it was not fair he screamed inside at the pain of death and then he died
mostly just unhappy that his work was now unfinished he remembered how he
struggled with the funding certain now in a dying heart that no one would carry it
further or study anything already done life is so unfair he screamed inside a
scientist gone. Certain of the outcome the killer faded back into his limousine
against the backdrop of the city properly called Green. Here in Green City there is
lots of towns and villages where killers like to live. They like the atmosphere the
ambiance. The anonymity of the surrounding foothills nothing further than the
desert then. He was a Tachycardia specialist specializing in the central neural
control trying to make sinuses blow. There have been random events coming to
the scientists' mabe just accidents not a communist plot or a covert spy bloc just
random hits on. People who concern themselves with death agree it's not a
purpose thing its free the next scientist that dies will find his specialty has also
died for who will come and study him to further knowledge on the end of
specialists comes.
The Scientist
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