Best Bubonic Poems
CORONA VIRUS (COV-19)
The Black Death, or bubonic plague, which happened nearly 700 years ago, (in the three year period of 1347 to 1351 in which it lasted) took the lives of an estimated 75 to 200 million people. It stayed dormant for 300 years. It then reared its ugly head in Spain and London. The plague is certainly a devastating entity to be reckoned with. The attack by terrorists on 9/11 was a dastardly deed perpetrated by cowards and the death toll was horrendous but by comparison, the Black Death is by far the worse catastrophe ever witnessed by mankind. In Biblical History, leprosy was the most dreaded disease which maimed and killed many. But rest assured there are days coming that all the combined plagues of history can compare. In the Book of Matthew 24:6-13 it reads: "And you will hear of wars and rumors of wars. See that you are not troubled: for all these things must come to pass, but the end is not yet. For nation will rise up against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. And there will be famines, pestilences, and earthquakes in various places. All these are the beginning of sorrows. Then they will deliver you up to tribulation and kill you, and you will be hated by all nations for My name's sake. And then many will be offended, will betray one another, and will hate one another." There is already great evidence of this taking place in government today and all around the world. You may ask the question, "What does this have to do with the Corona Virus (COV-19)? The Corona Virus can be controlled. The chaos and devastation of Armageddon cannot be stopped or brought under control. Therefore, it is an undisputed fact that the world will experience a catastrophe far greater than anything that has ever taken place. Matthew 6:33-34 reads: "Seek ye first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble."
Friday, 13 March 2020
Curtis Moorman
For the Corona Virus (COV-19) contest
Categories:
bubonic, anxiety, death, faith, fear,
Form:
Narrative
Isn’t it ironic?
That the plague called the bubonic
Killed the man but not the rat
And did not even kill the cat
That caught and killed the guilty rat
Isn’t it ironic?
That in this age of the electronic
Ebola is running unabated
It’s deathly thirst left quite unslated
Just like the plague as earlier stated
Isn’t it ironic?
That in this age of progress so terrific
A plague is not spread by a rat
Nor by bat and not by cat
But by technology - imagine that!
Categories:
bubonic, africa, death, irony, technology,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
(continued from part 1)
What is innocence
that little boy
whose pulling his toy
with it’s broken wheel
Do you think he doesn’t know that the price of that crack needle
Could buy him a meal?
Do you think he doesn’t, know
that that beer bottle
Is why he bares the bruises on his skin
Is it why he has to force himself to grin?
Is that little girl sitting with her perfectly coifed dolls
Singing to herself so she doesn’t hear the screams
Doesn’t she scream in terror
as her father bursts into her dreams.
And shoves her mom crashing into her little table.
Does she have to dream, to live her fable
And even then,
is she able?
Do you wonder what she is thinking
as she struggles to push the head back on her doll
or is it a way for her to merely, ignore it all
Are you watching with 20 million other viewers
A drone in your living room, a slave to a box
A fly in a web of airwaves
Do you think your government is doing the same
Or are they filling up
Graves
is there an agenda being played
as our minds are swayed
Is this distraction as innocent as it seems?
And that epidemic….An epidemic of having too much food
Begging someone please!
stop us from eating I cant see,
my knees
like it’s the bubonic plague
like we’re dropping like flies
An epidemic!
Could we build a memorial and carve on its stone
5 million died this year
from an this epidemic alone
we could… if we replaced obesity with
starvation
Is it ironic that the fat kids stomach looks just as big
as the starving ones.
What is innocence
Is a boy who just wants to spend time with his grandpa
He doesn’t understand
As his grandpa takes him by the, hand
And leads into the bathroom
To show him the darker side of man
That in that moment he’ll have to grow up
Faster then he planned
Faster then he can
What is innocence
Does it exist in this land
From the time were born
We stripped down, bought and torn
From violence to ****
We’re watched and mimicked
Our lives just a gimmick
To get in our little kids heads
Where innocence treads
To take away their bliss
The only thing that they were born, with
What is innocence
Does it exist anymore
Or in this day and age
Have we closed that door
Forever more?
Categories:
bubonic, life, sad, slamtime, ,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
Appreciating yourself, when others turn away with scorn.
Each day, you must love you as the sun doth the morn!
Feed your body, and nourish your dreams.
Pay no mind to those who give you no heed.
They are as shards of glass!
And people who do not understand class.
They might consider your poetry, to theirs,quite inferior!
That's because their poets. hearts exist in their posteriors.
Remember to laugh at the gods on poetic unicorns!
Hugging non-existent Muses in falsely lighted uniforms.
This is a magnificent place, where you can indeed pen freely.
It's not the Roman Coliseum; the true poets honor you here, dearly.
Many will avoid your work like bubonic plague.
They may have the virus, it's all the rage!
Love those who appreciate you, avoid the rest.
Who are "they?"- the poets who dream they are the best.
So, now! Please write this very day.
Making believe you are blossoms on the first day of may.
10/24/2020
Poem 2
Categories:
bubonic, humor, pets,
Form:
Couplet
Mother Rat
The queen of common suffering
is a pregnant rat.
She lifts a perfume atomizer
from a dumpster-
for its chandelier glint,
lilac smell,
mint vodka taste,
soft squeeze-bulb feel,
and 'pfffit pfffit' sound.
A good mother steals with all 5 senses.
She has fifty children.
She's a brown city rat.
She pretends it doesn't bother her.
Her littlest one is dying.
I have a powerful craving for poison.
I must be pregnant again.
Why are men so weak?
She has broad shoulders for a rat.
They haul the tools of litters:
shreds and bits and medicines,
extra beads of fresh blood.
I will provide.
There is no discussion.
While giving dinner, she asks,
Spray my haunches, would ya, Hun?
'pfffit pfffit.'
She's not without good breeding.
She wants to feel like she's
more than a good mother.
Wants to so much.
Just for tonight.
Before any pups can stow away,
She scurries out, humming
"I like the nightlife."
And just like that, she's free.
She's fat and happy and singing
and she's not ashamed of her tail
and she's strutting down garbage avenue
on hind legs like John Travolta.
Faster, faster.
Suddenly she's hiking through
centuries of rat narrative:
Rodent purges. Rat diasporas.
The 2nd Albino Civil War.
Bubonic Enlightenment.
The Norwegian Post Erotic movement.
Faster.
What's happening to me?
Please let it not be the arsenic,
not here in the promised land!
I've been meaning to cut back.
Her eyes are sparkling ruby beads,
but now they're flickering out.
Her long red tongue stands erect
between rows of inward daggers.
She is still beautiful.
Categories:
bubonic, animal, death, drug, mother,
Form:
Free verse
Does not matter what they say..
Poetry is easy but it’s not poetry…
Hallmark cliché is not a poem I am afraid..
You can spot a poet.. By their words…
Spilt from lips with gusto and fervor!
Grotesquerie gavottes meandering rodents!
Leaving bubonic parasitic critiques!
Would you tell a painter how to paint!?
The pallet they should weave, hehehe…
They’re so underrated, non unique,
sad pathetic ghouls drifting morose,
through the catacombs of their souls,
now chests hollow as is their home,
to breath or hear or feel…. nevermore-
If you’re a poet I care naught your words,
if you’re a poet I care knot your form,
if you’re a poet I care not your sword,
I care that you lachrymose inked your scrawl,
and no one can rate and criticize art,
if they hate your work, remember,
they are critics not artist, ask yourself,
one simple solitary question……
Is it better than a soup can?
Wink*
I am supposed to statuesque a poet/poetess;
But it is not poetry if it is not left to be subjective,
that’s Hallmark and I am not interested in cards,
I am interested in filling hearts or tearing them apart,
metaphorical a woman on here I met is a rampart,
mellifluous canary with crystalline shards her arc,
shooting through the night, a bright light in the dark,
mahogany bonfire in the nigh, ember in the minds eye.
Categories:
bubonic, appreciation, art, dark, deep,
Form:
Free verse
“The Big Blues and Baptismal Alice”
In the land of the dirty politician
Steely resolve was borne bidding
farewell to thinly veiled conceit and division
that particular brand of milk had long in the tooth turned sour
in her red-hot mamma kitchen
A racing Greyhound on the Going Nowhere Road
forever chasing the White Rabbit named Godot
counts time from its pocketful of ticking time bomb clocks
watching Pterodactyl hormones fly in formation
eating low lying ducks in a row
while the young Velociraptor sitting in her room drawing blood viper tongue fast,
has gone all Poe
The Greyhound turns tales around
and heads back towards Emerald City
flying fast away from a plague of Bubonic Black Crows
She says adieu to those dealing cards that were never real pretty
sitting at the Tea Party Table pulling Voodoo dreams
out of the Lyrebird’s duplicity
Departure
New journey
Two tokens
One kept aside for the Love
that’s steadfast and outspoken
the other for Bee Queen standing stellar
left-field not broken
The Buzzer claims the Chance Card
and moves way out past “GO”,
The Usurper Spell is now fully broken and blown
There on the open road destiny is cumulus now known
Face turned towards Big Blue Sky and Sunshine
a new life tapestry is sewn
Mystery mist whispering over Mountains of Blue
where angels set secret prayers
on the wings of swans who only speak home truth
soaring high upon Heaven’s stairs
singing loud and clear
new dreams do bloom
through cool clean white cotton clouds
face to the sun
feet on the ground
a new day has arrived
strong magic is found
Black ink words swallowed
charcoal spits out a burnt offering
through bitterful and twisted blisters
A New journey forward -
Home is calling her to the
Forest of the Three Sisters
There ensconced in her bucolic benevolent black heath of a palace
Born again in the Big Blues sings the bushfire burning in Baptismal Alice
(Lovejoy-Burton, August 2018)
"She's Leaving Home" / The Beatles
https://youtu.be/VaBPY78D88g
"Sky Above the Clouds", Georgia O'Keeffe 1962
Influences of Magritte, Bosch
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Queen_(chess)
Categories:
bubonic, courage, freedom, imagery, journey,
Form:
Free verse
Another Gin and Tonic Horn Limerick
Must I drink another gin and tonic
To tolerate Trump who is moronic
Jumping from hole to hole like a rabbit
Constantly complaining when cannot have it
Grows on you like a plague that is bubonic.
Jim Horn
Categories:
bubonic, humorous,
Form:
Limerick
Billy Joel's stories were top notch
Always enjoyed his music very much
He claimed only the good die young
So what have you been up to my old chum?
Grew up with bands like Three Days Grace
With mad Gontier screaming in my face
Bobbed my head to the heavy sound
But the constant rage really brought me down
Now there's kids like Justin Bieber
I claim bubonic, they say it's fever
Not his "music" that makes people stare
It's because of that ridiculous hair!
Categories:
bubonic, humorous, music,
Form:
Clerihew
So Loudly A Song
Let me start out with these
two interesting lines first
then complete the rest.
If President position were to pick and choose,
Make sure mind never leaves or you ever loose.
Loudly and loyally song started to sing
Out from cocoon baby butterfly did bring
Same old song on guitar started to play
Everyone would when they ran away.
Drank water they made out of tonic
A plague was produced by a Bubonic
Then he became sad and bucolic
Left wife who was an alcoholic.
Of this story what will be the moral?
If you can can-can in long line choral,
Make sure behavior does remain fine;
When performing don't get out of line.
Anything you can do I can do finer;
Sounds like start of a great one liner
Especially if you are in Caroliner
Drinking underage and are a minor.
I will bet your computer screen is
rocking and rolling by now caused
from all of your laughter now and
in the here after.
James Nefarious Needless Horn
Categories:
bubonic, humorous,
Form:
Couplet
Drinking this bubonic tonic
with sonic running through my veins,
making these feelings seem platonic
and the world a bit brighter and better
with these quadraphonic sounds
and with these hydroponic pounds
of this atomic chronic
i'm not so shallow and bitter.
every sound electronic,
and made monophonic,
the dances moves suffer,
all anamatronic
until that iconic bass drop
starts attacking tectonics
with so much Napoleonic rage,
it moves these symphonics
to super, hyper, ultrasonic.
johnny mnuemonic's
not just hooked on phonics anymore,
but instead he's a supersonic supernova
among the stars a Casanova
exploding with the
sounds of natures conics
that would make Pythagoras proud,
the demonic harmonics echo behind him
like a shadow fading as the sun goes down.
Categories:
bubonic, nonsense, words,
Form:
Rhyme
Why did Noah take nits?
Let's pull this Ark to bits,
God let Noah take two nits,
Plus two mosquitoes, each proboscis,
Gave humans encephalitis,
What is worse than this?
Why they bring malaria, blip!
What is worse than this?
As well as Noah's two nits,
God let Noah take two rats,
With two fleas on board, that's that,
So Noah brought bubonic plague,
While lovely unicorns floated away,
Then on all those wooden decks,
Noah took two woodpeckers, by heck,
So that was the end of Noah's Ark,
Lucky he wasn't eaten by sharks,
So, why God, did you plan all this, mate?
I know Noah was human to make mistakes,
Taking rats, fleas, mossies, and nits, great!
Was taking two nits more than fate?
Categories:
bubonic, allusion, funny, humor, imagery,
Form:
Free verse
It is now 'The End Of Days'
Don't look at us, avert your gaze
We four, beyond all time and space
bring judgement to this sorry place
An icy hand, your heart, it grips
Behold 'The Horsemen of the Apocalypse'
So let me introduce to you
the four members of our crew
My name is Death, my horse is pale
You'll plead with me to no avail
As you are judged, so will you pay
No sinner will escape this day
With my scythe I'll reap your soul
for that's my one and only goal
Your punishment you know so well
You will be consigned to hell
My name is Famine, my horse is black
I'm the reason that food you lack
I'll smite your cattle and your goats
and wither all your wheat and oats
I'll dry your rivers and your brooks
as foretold in Revelation's books
I'll blight your fields of golden maize
because this is 'The End Of Days'
I am Pestilence and my horse is white
Unlike Famine it's YOU I'll blight
I'll visit on you plague and disease
Bacteria will bring you to your knees
Bubonic Plague will crack your skin
'gainst my infestations you can't win
And to finally seal your fate
A harmless virus, I'll mutate
And here am I on my blood red horse
My name? Why, it's War, of course
Along with Pestilence and his infections
I bring you war and insurrections
I'm in all the bombs you drop
and like the others I'll not stop
until your world is burnt to ashes
and civilisation around you crashes
So now's the time and here's the place
It's judgement for the human race
Flee in panic, you can't hide
for we are riding out world wide
MY NAME IS SATAN, THIS IS MY TIME
I'M HERE TO PUNISH EVERY CRIME
THESE INCARNATIONS DO MY BIDDING
EARTH, OF ALL SINNERS, I'LL BE RIDDING
GO, YE GOOD SOULS, TO THE "RAPTURE"
THOSE REMAINING I WILL CAPTURE
AND NOW FOR ALL ETERNITY
COME ALL YE SINNERS AND BURN WITH ME
Categories:
bubonic, horror, judgement,
Form:
Verse
You’re probably wondering how I did it? How did I cure cancer? Science, medicine, the dark arts? No, I took a photo of myself without any makeup on a posted it to Facebook. Through doing that, I raised awareness. Before I posted that photo many people had probably never even heard of cancer. Raising awareness for cancer is the only way to cure it. Because the more people who look at cancer, the less deadly it becomes. Like those ghosts in Super Mario 64. This isn’t the first time I’ve changed the world of course. A few years ago, I shared a video about a robot called KONY2012 who was programmed to kidnap children. As is my understanding, it was a direct result of my posting that video to Twitter that led to Mr. 2012 being arrested and fired directly into the sun, which as we know is the only successful way of deactivating a murderous robot. Am I a hero? In many ways yes, in many other ways, also yes. It takes a certain kind of bravery to post a photo of my face to the internet. The kind of bravery that I think Leonardo Da Vinci displayed when he painted his famous Mona Lisa without makeup to raise awareness about the bubonic plague. A lot of my friends waste their time going to protests, and volunteering for various organizations. What they don’t understand is that they are wasting their, and everybody else’s time. Every second they spend marching, could be spent liking charities on Facebook or helping the authorities find the wreckage of that missing plane by ending all their tweets with a #MH370. Plus a lot of my friends are members of these organizations UNICEF or AMNESTY for several years. Whatever. If you could follow me on twitter @Patty_McGee, or like my page on Facebook, we could save the world, one click at a time.
Categories:
bubonic, internet, irony, spoken word,
Form:
Blank verse
More Potential Limericks
Effective, live, give
Related, created, dated
Contemplated, illustrated, annotated
Realize, chastise, surmise
Talented, Sainted, painted, fainted
Proportion, distortion, contortion
Humongous, among us, fungus
Incantation, contemplation, situation
Intend, extend, suspend, upend
Support, escort, retort
Harmonic, Teutonic, tonic, bubonic
Criticize, realize, surprise
Limerick, pick, edict
Tutor, suitor, refute her, recruiter
Traitor, educator, date her
Weigh a ton, around had spun, start to shun, she's the one
Order was out, without a doubt, starting to shout
Debilitated, rehabilitated, rotated, rated
A mattering, started scattering, broke and shattering
Choke, broke, spoke, yoke
Table, enable, fable
Hostile for a while, quite a gal, would beguile, could compile
Seduce, reduce, produce
Abuse, excuse, obtuse, what's the use
Wangle, angle, dangle, wrangle
Worrisome thought, Lincoln was shot, outside is hot
In between was caught, hit the spot, ended with dot, within earshot
Now go for it. Jim Horn
Categories:
bubonic, allegory, analogy,
Form:
Limerick