Best Cadre Poems
Behind the reaper, glistening beneath
the fading rays of light,
crude elements of happenstance
lie in its wake, passed over
and awaiting those who glean
the afterbirth.
Yes, there is that querulous
persistence of the poor,
that stubborn cadre of the prescient,
who will peer into our souls
and find us bankrupt,
mind and consciousness already unaware.
It is a curious, stolid procession
passing by--these ghosts
on their ironic quest into tomorrow.
No one may cheer them on; no one
may find a voice to hold them back.
There is no choice, for
we must be content to find ourselves
among the gleaners, though it is we
who sang our welcome to the reapers--
we, who watched the harvest come,
and hungered after it.
And it was we who faced the disillusionment
of barren fields with gleaming bits
of paper bibelot
to laugh and mock us
as we ploughed them underneath.
But fullness too, lurked there
in silent modesty behind the plough.
Patient gleaners know
that down the long, slow hall of history
there is a single echo:
Truth is unchanging...paradox!
There was triumph in the air,
and no man was a slave to it.
I deeply sighed and took a breath
and opened up my eyes.
And it was good.
~
BELIZEAN BLEND
In the beginning it was the Yucatec, the Mopan and Kekchi as well
Who came from the steppes of Asia where nomads dwell
They fished and farmed milpas, in paradise; away from hell
Some building great civilizations that, for many reasons, eventually fell
Then came the Spaniards whose ambivalence; mixed feelings
Caused them to waver in subsequent dealings
Killed some natives, driven off by others
In the end did not settle; wasn’t worth the bother
Displaced by the British, rowdy pirates turn woodcutters
Who made laws and build infrastructure down to the gutters
Cut logwood, then mahogany for powerful and wealthy folks
Then, to satisfy greed, sought others to enslave in yokes
Africans from Jamaica and Bermuda transshipped
Then as chattel they were frequently whipped
Stolen from Africa, becoming the major labor force
Dehumanized and tortured for centuries without remorse
Mestizos fleeing oppressors in the Yucatan
The War of Castes brought them from beyond
Working as chicleros and cane cutters
As a way of providing ‘ bread and butter’
Garinagu deported from St. Vincent as a form of punishment
Many dying in their odyssey , their massive predicament
Survive , resiliently, on the rebound
A proud people, with culture and learning very sound
Mennonites coming to enjoy religious freedom and peace
Avoiding persecution for a life of ease
Providing furniture, low cost poultry and eggs
Reducing the cadre of many that beg
From India and China they were duped and brought
As indentured servants who were hastily sought
Later as merchants and shopkeepers they came
Voluntarily this time, which is not nearly the same
Backpackers and excursionists everywhere
In a world where they’re free to choose elsewhere
Not part of the earlier diaspora
But manifestations of a new plethora
CAT CALLS
The caterwauling cacophony of a cadre of cats copulating in a can.
12/10/2015
submitted to – One liners five – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Silent One
Limerick : Once a Cadre in a Revolution
Once a Cadre in a Revolution
Took strict lessons in elocution
Saw himself on podium
Safe from opprobrium
Ai ! Missed lessons in execution !
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
The “Veil”
The birth of a child born with a veil
Told that he would see thing unbeknownst to everyone else
Traveled outside of the only place I’ve ever known
Wow….a world out here, a world to call my own
Never knew these things would exist
Toils and trouble and an iron fist
Strapped on boots tugged on my chain
What do you know they just call my name
I guess I am somebody, let me through
I want to move to the front now with you
Thought I was rich, with only one hole in my shoe
My brother’s shirt, my father’s rule
Only seven of us kids with two out the door
Now only five of us left, what next…what more
Friday night is coming, and I’m afraid to sleep
Father is drinking, mother in the streets
Screams and shout would pierce my ear
Chains from her beating and the ice pick near
Is this the caul that I’m so blessed to possess?
Is it the rule, does it lead to success
I get through the night and move through the years
I often reflect and often shed tears
Do I share these thoughts or just let it be
Time waits for no one, neither does the cadre
Now on the front lines fighting this war of hell
Should have seen it coming, for I had the veil
There isn’t anything special about my life so far
Maybe this pen, paper and this memoir
I was expecting something different in this fast paced life
Not to be in this sand, not to see this suffering and stife
I’m really confused now, watch me exhale
No longer the little boy born with the veil.
Johnnie Eaves
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/
pioneer esprit de corps front tier brisk.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Open arms and clenched raised fists raise
masquerade diametrically opposed to rodomontade sways
spewing threatening sacred constitution
expounding vaunted values déclassé 1968 degreed phase
Wharton alumni now on warpath to raze
via his bull dozing wreaks havoc on coven daze
ruining complex edifice
usurped storied super power craze
thru humiliation, liquidation of dredging bays
* * * * * * * * * * * *
and justification (viewed thru his warped vision)
scotching inalienable rights reducing to rubble bedrock division
with remainder of flinty stones,
and unlovely bones a wasteland fission
absent without a trace any evidence of Halcyon days,
which abomination, decimation, and gangrenous lesion
joie de vivre, when martial law decree deep incision
heil come rolled up (frightfully with egregious decision.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
the venomous, tenebrous, and rancorous white house
Head honcho viz prez) inside checkered hookahs lighting
one end per slow burn as hoary smoke emanates
in shape of Taj Mahal, then harmless as Mickey mouse
he iz well singed, seared, and scalded like a cook grouse
(yet of course still alive) sent to further douse
him into initiation righting tis basic human coup laid louse.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Acid test whereby he will be sold to Vladimir Putin for bunk
her hilled feather bedding rubles on the dollar, where clunk
key interim held up by cadre of well comb pence dunk
key Kong sated marionettes, which will carry fleshy lunk
dirty deeds done dirt cheap of this unmentionable monk
key villainous uber trumpeter, scabrous, recalcitrant querulous punk!
* * * * * * * * * * * *
keep your finger and toes crossed for the next four years
aware that such laughable ruse and superstitious scares
not one impish bot of fate, but more so gives false cheers.
More is so much more
More than creation could have to offer
The better we can do
If we meddle and then we tamper
Make it better it will be BIGGER
THERE beneath the muscle mass
The egg yolk recombinant pale industrial
Bubonic feed in tiny grains
Exogenous bovine viral
This will make it BIGGER
And so much better
This will serve the economic trend
Side effects no matter
BETTER bigger eat those nachos
Cobs are easier than modified corn
Plastic bags for a chemical filter
Economy size is so much BIGGER
Than the tastier crunchets were BEFORE
MATERIALISM's cannibalism
Of self consumption
Eats its way through the natural world
Great BIG cow beef dripping nasal hormones
Teeter themselves on unnatural legs
Burger buns and great BIG yellow M's
Have the market miasma cornered
Still the toilet middle man down
Flushed in the drains of public health
Get more to the gross is more to the pound
More to the kilo than an ounce
More insipid in its sliced up ubiquitous
BIGGER the savour ends up tastless
A pre-packed convenience for a cling-film house
Such is a western dream of diluted poison
BIGGER better better BIGGER
The opulent cadre of exploitation
And steady forever fractional collapse
More is so much more
More than this creation has to offer
(this pastiche pertaining to maya own inc ore pore rated poetic patois promulgated many moons ago from those screaming bloody thirsty headlines from the Italian court for justice sans the brutal homicide attributed to this then American college student and her ex-boyfriend).
with the assiduous vigor of a cadre of volunteers
brought sought after fruition of freedom
per the release of imprisoned young (twenty something) American lass
whose former life sentenced commuted to egress from an Italian jail
to her home within Seattle, Washington
whereby family, friends and strangers who fought for her liberation
breathed one palpable surprising sigh of euphoric relief
when the plane who boarded landed safely on the tarmac of SEATAC
aswarm with frenzied television camera crews
scrambled to get the initial scoop and what promises
to land this once anonymous cell bait
an undisclosed amount of lucre
which many on the other side of the pond
find mind boggling if not downright objectionable
moreso livid with rage
against the Machiavellian machine
on account of supposed culpability in tandem with her then boy friend
accused (under the guise of guilty fiat)
sans homicide of college roommate
now sought after garnering this fawning female
(salaciously tagged by Perugian court with the sobriquet “she wolf”
now faces a future replete with riches aplenty
allowing gravity of ugly epithet plus stigma from accusation of murder
to serve as basis for what will no doubt be a best seller
not to mention made for the silver screen blockbuster
with subsequent royal carpet treatment
to compensate for guilty judgment decreed
without tangible evidence nor fair trial to boot!
(alternately titled: ah me go march'n home on derange)
I'll play the devil's advocate, yet
prepare a stance with pitchfork
against misinterpreted faux attempt
to describe, how whet
d'ya column re: immigration officials coe vet
patrol, police, and poison tranquil casa blanca
where killer attack dogs fiendishly pin set
ting sharp fangs at jugular vein of respectful,
dutiful, and blissful (or at least
prior to being sniffed out) innocent
long time laborer on American soil now get
ting Das Boot to their unfamiliar Motherland
(despite living social
as law abiding righteous folks) fret
full, cuz unfairly punished, and
cruelly deported, dispirited, doomed
pained visage non verbally articulates
at un war rented deportation you bet!
with just a flick of the wrist
and alien hated, pigheaded,
and xenophobic ventriloquist
bring back the Alien and Sedition Acts
with a Trumpeting Latina, Hispanic,
and for good measure Mulatto twist,
where original writ (signed into law
by President John Adams in 1798),
historical footnote, aye cannot resist
spooking (like a ghost), those pee pill
born south of the border pooped and pissed
in potties of this proud country, sans free and brave
now frightfully get flushed out
glad to feign dis guise
as one among select Geronimo cadre
we henchman lubricate
wheels of injustice myst
tuff hie hiding dark shadows
(along the edge of night)
thence paddy wagon comes
to screeching halt nabbing
an "illegal alien" name on hit list
code word "bag dad" (biggest quarry)
and score a win
for Barren Trump Tah Mahal Incorporated
impossible mission special ops sentry slithers as trained
fearless to shackle wetback ranked big hest
catch also including booby prize,
as you correctly guessed.
What is all this wild, crazy talk of Civil War
From enraged right-wing extremist groups?
Is rabble-rousing all they are living for,
A mad cadre of gun-toting nincompoops?
Who revere a narcissistic con man as a god
Cloaking themselves in conspiracist theory,
Clearly not discerning truth from a fraud.
Far-sighted Americans are growing weary
Of those who would tear down our nation
For the sake of a misguided egotistical man,
An ignorant fool risen far above his station
A desire to be a dictator, a diabolical plan,
Time will prove the folly of these miscreants
Our nation is stronger than they suspect.
We patriotic Americans give no credence
Flag, Anthem, and Constitution we respect.
Written August 14, 2022
Music intersects your soul with mathematical connotations
It is both logarhythmic and exponential in its ability to heighten or diminish moods
to multiply or reduce emotions
to cause enjoyment as well as reflection or introspection
Music brings joy to many people
as well as painful remembrances of times past,
of moments lost and of memories which cannot be regained or recollected
Music can bring a feeling of exhiliration and to some a feeling of aloness or sadness or isolation
Music can help synthesize the senses so that they function heuristically in a predetermined fashion
Music can help inundate the eyes with a swath of lights, reflections and of shapes of beautiful glowing instruments:
The vibrant strings of the guitar, the cello, and the violin, the violincello, and the harp.
The crisp shrill happy sounds of the flute, piccolo, saxophone, and trombone,
The emergent strokes of the melodious piano which coalesce around symphonies, overtures, minuets, and rhapsodies, accompanied by a cadre of accompanying instruments which follow various harmonius accompaniments.
The tasteful notes which follow sequentially in both ascending and descending order
The touchy lyrics which link to your soul in a magical vibrancy and take you to secret destinations of peace, tranquility, and of meditation, within your mind.
Music helps to reconcile feelings or emotions
Music helps to quantify and add notes to mathematical abstractions which jump out and leap out of the pages of well orchestrated music in a cascade of sounds of distinct and effervescent clarity.
Music's effect on the mind and the soul is both pervasive and everlasting and soothing, while in other it is sadfully but roughly elusive.
I love music.
A call to arms,
my comrade friends
It’s time to make Amerika
great again
The first order of business
is to throw the 1st Amendment
in the trash bin
Posing the most danger to our democracy
is a cadre of well-informed citizens
We have to muzzle the mouth
Do like we did
way back when down south
It’s time to make Amerika
great again
Time to build a New Amerika,
my comrade friends
Freedom of speech must be
the first domestic casualty
People don’t have the right to know
how their government do business
Traitorous winds from within blow,
but Papa Don knows what’s best —
Papa will tell you what to think,
Papa will tell you how to feel
Papa’s gonna make us all rich,
cut us in on the big money deal
Daddy Don is gonna take care of us all,
but first you must be loyal
to this patriotic call:
It’s a call to arms,
my comrade friends
Time to make Amerika
great again
New Amerika will embrace the Old World ways,
if we teach people the wisdom
of Marx and Lenin ... Mao and Stalin
Get the people to repent
of their civil liberty sins
Then, and only then, can we begin
making Amerika become great again
Please take up the cause,
my comrade friends
It’s about time to start making
Amerika great again
within the under belly of
this hob bull ling Leviathan beast
induced roaring hungry soundcloud issued
within abdominal folds
finding they in creased
never diminishing, matter
whether I turn north, south, west or east
this adult desired,
soon after he envisioned
buttered crispy dish eyed fancily feast
culinary cut throat Michelin meisters
(pit a less lee) pitted
against Pillsbury doughboy greased
imaginatively gobbling hectare
thousand island inlaid
juiced kickstarting least
unable to pay thee Monsieur's consigliere –
damn, hard cold cash just shy by a nickle
aye first taken got taken hostage
as a wreck loose poet,
the anti write cadre
strip searched
every stitch of clothes I wore,
then subjected me to an aye tip pickle
pun hush ment,
where this deplorable basket case
stood aghast as hounds from hell
got loosed by thee Don Rickle
lathered canine chops
slapped by foamy salivating tongues
poised to ham er and
make mince meat out this pop sickle
but...lo and behold, as vicious
snooping doggy dogs
approached within a hair breadth
minecrafted fingers fluttered
in the air asper ready to tickle
whereat the snarling killers (bon jove)
rolled with faux pas in the air
kicking, laughing (or a similar
fox simile thereof),
inciting Major Domo tuff flair
his nostrils (like...well
an amazing dragon)
with blood red eyes didst glare
while fur sprouted over his bare skin
honor ably dispelling every last hair
which bizarre circumstance, an opportunity
to escape from this thieving Magpie lair
approved by the ghost of Rossini,
who suddenly prestidigitatiously
magically brought to my defense William Tell
(in the guise oven
instant activating App) pull lick caisson
thus juiced by a whisker avoiding a scare.
Perhaps the realm where dormant ideas germinate
will coalesce into sturdy tomes even if posthumously late
recognition gets affianced with a memorialized slate
where no body will lie,
cuz this mortal will get his ashes sprinkled
intermixed with wildlife,
who will unknowingly consecrate and sanctify
rack and pinion traction,
where dost dust will fertile lies
to become reincarnated
via blessings sans creatures who defecate or urinate.
In this world this feeling of being secluded and alone
with only a cadre of youth that represents innocence and
the wilderness
In this whole wide world, the conch, the rule to speak
some democracy,
you can run fast, or you are easily upset, or you can take
charge just so you can control,
I guess the first order of business is to suss all this stuff out.
Maybe later, years later on Simon's son becomes more like Jack.
You know the avenue Piggy ventured from the start,
just what might just become like Roger
a purely sadistic sort.
An allegory
Like Franz Boas searching for ice cream
The University of Heidelberg
1386
He became fascinated by the Baffin Island Inuit.
Where a learned man such as himself could never
survive because he was not equipped with the
knowledge
back in those days
that was a revolutionary thought
In many ways it still seems to be this way,
I think just now.
Peace!