Best Cohort Poems
THIS IS THE DAY THE LORD GAVE!
Looking out life’s window,
Trying to find out why I am so sad and down.
I don’t blame the Lord for my struggles.
I know strife in life is there.
If I did not live a meaningful existence, life would have no meaning at all.
So maybe I am stretched to the limit but I will never give-up.
Standing, I pillar because I am my self-worth.
To those that suggest a difference, my earthly work magnifies who I am.
Justifying my subsistence, my affluence is only a gen.
The knowledge this provides is of a greater acumen.
May I say that living is first and utmost privileged circumstance!
The Lord is my keeper and to him I give honor and respect.
In this solitary world, we seek companionship.
We go through situations in our relationships and may lose focus.
However, the Lord is there for us in our time of discontent.
Regime is formed and we mindset.
Our spirits are inner cored for fulfillment.
There is no greater cohort than the Lord’s intellect.
I know because this mountain I continue to peak.
Without question, I am profound in my belief.
That the Lord is the keeper of my faith and mankind is the persuader of a different way.
In joy, I laugh aloud.
I am not blind to the lies of mankind.
My footsteps are admin to the all-powerful.
This day is given by The Almighty God.
Do I hear an Amen?
___________________________________________________________________
Penned On January 11, 2015!
Get Out of My Face!
What brought all of that on?
Award? This is not a movie!
Who cares about a stupid award?
And how dare you judge me like that?
You must have lost your brains –
Yes, I see them now!
Right in front of your face
Floating around in the bubble
On your head!
And you say you love me.
Yeah, right!
And since when did this spaceship
Become yours? Get a grip.
You want me off of this rust trap?
Right after you, baby!
Oh, who made you judge and jury?
You do not even know what love is.
You are a suck-up.
But you just lost your brownie points.
Do you call screaming at a cohort?
“Love of humanity”
I see it again!
Grey matter scrambled like eggs. Yum!
I remember when –
You used to eat men alive and brag.
Have you really changed all that much?
You still gloat with words?
Even now, you think you have won.
My dear raging “Power hog”,
Turn the light bulb on…think!
We are in deep space.
What do you think
Will happen to your prize,
If I do get off?
I can see it now.
You, Spaceman of the Year,
Worming your way out of the spot light
When T.S. asks you,
“What happened?
That cute Elaine Justice disappeared?”
Um, well, a…she left the ship.
Really now?
And why was that?
Imagine stumbling your egocentric-self
Right out of your award.
Genuinely, who really cares?
Not I! Said the woman
That still had her brains.
It is time for you to get off.
Love of humanity, or me for that matter,
Is something you know nothing
About…Now, get out of my face!
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
May 20, 2010
Poetic form: Free Verse
Oh well here I go again,
wishin for a dream that I could be wrapped in,
entrapped in,
torn away from addiction,
destroy the tele…
vision they strive to force upon you,
its all false but you know I’m true.
They will not protect you when you scream your broken cries,
they are merely evil faces of masked men behind illuminati eyes
with which they hypnotize,
brainwash you with their lies.
I've got those deep thoughts pouring in,
all the roads I've traveled down
conditions I have traveled in
here in my pretty town,
the 910 deserves a crown.
East Coast I'm representing,
I promise you I am not venting.
High on that purple haze,
And still haven't slept for days,
excuse these bloodshot eyes
with a krispy kreme glaze,
some will try to say its just a silly phase...
My mind is so graphic,
use words like special tactics,
unmistakable like D'Jango,
or a peace signs' angle,
destroy the crave for war and struggle,
no need to explain all the trouble,
with places burstin’ into rubble,
Rebel! Rebel! We’ll show ‘em hell!
I’ll be fightin’ when I'm dead,
kick and scream till my blood is shed,
let authorities know the message will be spread!
Put on a show with a little bit of passion
or the bad things will continue to happen.
Get the love through your head,
all this hatred should be dead,
what I'm saying must be said,
before the gauge goes into red.
With vocabulary this brilliant makes a female more vigilant,
like brothers boston what I speak
my words alone will make you weak, make you faint,
Like blood spilled by hands of a vigilante saint,
trust me lifes too short,
you dont have the time my young cohort,
wait until your words make an enemy
cause their threatened by the uncertainty
that you will make it this far
make a point unlike this war
next thing you know you see ‘em sweat
words fresh like paint drippin with purpose,
makin ‘em wet.
I finger paint a master piece with a just simple rhyme,
just don't pull your piece on me just let me speak, my mind,
while I unwind, rewind all this blasphemy,
continential catastrophe,
I may have to beg and plead so that my boys can rest in peace
sorry for the interruption,
don’t blame me for the corruption,
for now I'll put my words at ease,
hope you told someone you loved them today and that it wasn't a white lie,
just a tease.
04.27.2013
The legion march quickly north,
armed with glaudius , pila, and, scutum.
Prefect Claudius Flavius was in command of the First Cohort.
Vanguard in the lead, flankers to the sides, rear guard looking behind.
They marched steady and strong under a blazing hot sun.
Each man weighed down with 60 pounds of armor, weapons, shield and rations.
They did not falter,
and they did not stop for water.
Such is the discipline of the legions of Rome.
At the end of the day they made their camp.
That night the equites legionis scouts found the enemy.
and the battle was planned.
The legion was up before dawn and prepared for battle.
The First Cohort, four hundred eighty men in all, marched to the battle site ahead of the others, and formed four maniples.
When the rest of the legion was formed,
Flavius commanded the First to move forward toward the screaming enemy.
They did not falter,
and they marched in good order.
Such is the discipline of the legions of Rome.
At the command of, " Iacere pila". they hurled their spears at the enemy shields.
At the command of, " Contendire vesta sponte" they drew their glaudii and engaged,
attacking the left flank of the enemy formation.
Armor and spears, swords and shields met in a horrible clash.
The centurii and optio shouted orders above the blare of the bugles.
Pilae were hurled.
Scuta banged against scuta.
soliders pushed, shoved, yelled and cursed.
Glaudii thrust forward in unrelenting, grim determination.
They did not falter,
and they gave no quarter.
Such is the discipline of the legions of Rome.
In the end the enemy line unraveled, and those who were left ran for their lives.
The equites chased them down.
The battle was hard fought.
The list of the slain was long,
and the lesson the legion sent was clear.
Those of the enemy that got way brought this message home.
The Roman legions are strong and disciplined.
They do not falter,
and they give no quarter.
Do not test the power of Rome.
Ignatius inspected his cohort
The unknown one and his men
He needed the best to fight for him
He needed the best to fight for them
Iduma stood tall, with a beard of fiery red
Didn’t like Ignatius, he wanted his job instead
Now was the time, he could prove his worth
He was born to be a leader; he knew it from birth
Ianus the two-faced one, wasn’t sure whose side to take
He watched Ignatius and Iduma, he waited for his break
The cohorts were ordered to drink, and sup from the pool
Then Ignatius would pick his men, he was nobody’s fool
To take Britannia from Caesar, that was Ignatius’ game
And then he wouldn’t be unknown, everyone will know his name
The ones that sipped from the pool, while keeping watch around
They were the cohorts Ignatius used, his cohorts he had found
Caesar when he slept, would be in his tent set by the river
Ignatius sent his men, to bring back the Caesar’s liver
Iduma heard the plan, his temper rose and boiled
He would not let Caesar die; it was Ignatius that would be broiled
Ianus watched them both, a side he needed to pick
He wanted to be on the winning one, he knew he must act quick
The cohorts crept into the camp; to take Caesar was their plan
Then Ignatius knew he would be leader, he would be their man
Ianus decided to foil the plan, and so he set a small trap
He told Caesar what was afoot, and then his thigh did slap
He hid in Caesars’ tent and waited for the cohorts
But it seemed to him that Idouma… must have read his thoughts
His two-faced trickery failed, at the conception of his plan
Iduma didn’t trust him, he was a two-faced man
Ianus of the two faces would pick sides when things were good
But he hadn’t counted on Idouma; it was something that he should
Ignatius failed to take Caesar, and will forever remain unknown
Londinium became a diocese, of the Roman throne
With Ianus dead and Ignatius too, that left only Iduma with his men
For Caesar to promote him, not of one cohort, but ten.
Ignatius . Loose translations in Latin …..Unknowning
Iduma… ……………………………. red
Ianus… …………………………… two faces.
Caesar……………………………………King
Cohorts…….. The Legion was split into 10 Cohorts. The Cohorts were divided into
Centuries. The First Cohort contained five centuries of 160 'crack troops.
I hate you now, you did me wrong
I did you till the cows came home,
My friend called and said, ‘’she was through with you’’,
And I was jealous because, "I was weak, and didn't
Have the wherewithal to walk away.!
Now my best friend is leaving me with you.
Leaving me to crave you all alone.
I should have been gone...
You took away some of my ‘’top of the list folks’’-
With your too sweet facade, and I still held on.
Why did I stay? It was your sweet
Soothing ways, comforting me,
Calling me from out of my sleep to rendezvous with you.
I have lost my taste for you.
I am trying to get away from you.
Large portions, ‘’too much sugar for a dime’’.
Killing myself for the desire of you,
Addicted to the thrills you bring.
Sweet thing, I want to hate you.
Sugar, I am trying to hate you it’s simple
I heard that once I let you into my system, you’ll start to cohort
with the enemy and promote cancer inside of my temple.
Sugar, I am done with you; unlike my friends;
I am not willing to die for your, sugary appeal.
Word is you cheat, you like to sneak around inside,
Of once healthy snacks, and cause heart attacks,
Causing joint inflammation and arthritis pain.
Crippling me as you hide in eatable staples,
Appearing as safe. I will spit you out at the table!
I hate you now sweetie- trick no good ...
Don't care that you’re refined:
Never again “knowingly “will I swallow you:
Only for you to consume me as a killer treat.
Sugar" I am dumping you for honey,
And ‘’ my honey can go in raw’’.
‘’ my honey’’ will keep my company
And I won’t even miss you at all.!
Sweet Thang…
There's a poet named John in Rockport,
Who writes to Jack his cohort.
Every morning by nine,
It's limerick time,
Making me laugh as I try not to snort.
Syrupy with recipe ran along brasseries
Peiping, Mags and Oasis pricey rotisseries
Sizzling sizzlers the Peter Cat’s clamor
Addled couples fending their pockets out of scarce.
Boogie with deejays rhythm along discos
Tantra, Fusion and Roxy surfaced floorshows
Mass hangout the Some Place Else’s beckon
Mini-fashioned getups makes the other to pay on.
Volumes with fictions traded along bargains
Oxford and Metropolitan are mostly visited
Cohort no bar wide-ranged music stocked at Music World
Passerby’s daily dos’ makes the guard better-known.
Xaverians with hip-hops confined along principles
St. Mary, AG and St. Augustine are teenagers realm
Scandals and hearsays are their daily boasts
Highly noetic minds makes them their daily booze.
Hotfooted with attachés bucked along clock at nine
Pushed subway, the most busiest at times
Hi-fi managers and Board meetings at The Park
Foreigners often ease themselves at the Flurry’s cake bar.
One particularly memorable critic referred to me as a neckbeard in a conversation with a friend this morning. Both of the twats were skinny, pencil-head net-dweebs, the types who frequent cesspools such as reddit.com or 4chan.org. I observed that both geeks were clad in t-shirts emblazoned with figures from Asian cartoons. I laughed to myself, and remarked that fans of Anime should not mock bearded men simply because their own kinds are maligned for their pointlessly lazy grooming. The offending dorks cohort cackled and muttered 'total neckbeard, man.' More cackling. I reached into my pocket and gripped my mini-kunai, which was sheathed into the waistband of my sweatpants, but released the grip and smiled at my antagonists. They needed no punishment. Their only crime was being stupid and hive-minded. I proceeded to the next table, this entire incident having taken place in a McDonald's dining room, and overheard their conversation, a robotic exchange of very old memes and esoteric World of Warcraft lingo. Their odious laughter filled the store, triggered by loudly shouted acronyms pronounced phonetically, such as LOL and ROFL. The couple sitting at the booth across from me was giggling in embarrassment at the idiocy, and the employees looked capable of homicide. I however, lounged lazily in the corner, feasting, the
Neckbeard Warrior at rest.
Friends fade into the common wave,
lost in their naiveté,
the days change the blame stays,
so on they go,
about their ways, insides rot.
Slave to the poison of their own creation,
oozing from their brain,
fragranting their breath,
voice saps life from their vicinity,
complaining insults, cease not.
Listening ears burn with rage,
and herald a life of ease,
free from lowly and lofty self-hate,
that self-feed such a disease,
ally ignores, rapeful ramblings never stop.
Ears cool and learn to let them fade,
from friend to cohort to stranger to slave,
happily hateful world workers,
stressfully loving their blightful lives,
patter of greater prosperity, zot but a prop.
In poignant verse
I seek to disperse
to the Universe
Without profanity
An egregious crime
against humanity
A glorious ancient practice
of calming body and mind
consummated by truth, patience
Infused by being kind
A current victim so courageous
enduring a crime that is outrageous
To yearning hearts
what could be finer
than this ancient practice
of the people of China
Falun Gong :
a mediation so
trans formative
It exponentially elevates
The healthy years you live
Their living in a time
of excruciating crime
where a basic human right
Demands a constant
vigilant fight
In exchange
for the peace that they engaged
Somehow their government
became enraged
Falun Gong, if you follow
carries a sentence quite hollow
Their Governments Reward ?
Is a far cry from
harmonious applaud
The vision your mind
conceives as the absolute farthest
Is indeed a Forced
Organ Donor Harvest
Perpetrated by the
Chinese Communist Party
Because these practitioners
body's are Very Very Hearty
If my verse did edify
And your heart thirsts to assist
Please don't offer an alibi
or be a cohort
Support, Support, Support
184wds.
In my melancholic turmoil moments besieged with pain
As I groan along mocking injustice terrain
Languishing in misery brought by deceit of betrayal stain
Sorrowing* midst righteous verdict I hope to gain…
My God offers to me His grace, never vain.
I draw near to Him, placing my life into His mercy’s domain.
In my melancholic turbulent days against guiltiness’ cohort
When I cry for divine aid and support
Excruciating from my downfall’s discomfort
Wailing due to my worldliness and its carnality-haunting escort …
My Saviour pours His mercy for my ultimate resort.
I draw nigh to Him, laying my faith upon His strength’s fort.
In my melancholic troubled times of grievous despair
That I need urgent care
Beseeching for an assured welfare
Ailing with discontentment’s scare…
My Lord presents His promises which His words declare.
I abide in Him, exposing my soul to His victorious stare.
*"Sorrow is better than laughter: for by the sadness of the countenance the heart is made better." Ecclesiastes 7:3
July 21, 2019
5th place, "Writing Challenge 2, July 2019- Melancholy" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Dear Heart; judged on 7/23/2019.
Cinqo De Mayo...When a Brooklyn thug target shoots at a floating jar of Hellman's.
Dutch- Where do they come from? I've looked at atlases dozens of times, and
can't find a country called Dutch, or Dutchland.
Dusty Springfield- why doesn't someone get her a dust-buster, or dust rag, or
something?
Refried Beans- What's that about? Didn't they fry them right the first time?
Chigger- defamatory label for a person half Chinese, and half Black.
Endomorph- Quitting a serious drug habit.
Hoe-Down- 1)Dropping your garden tool. 2)A prostitute rendered unconscious.
Ignoramus- A hippo who failed in high-school.
Knee-Jerk-A person whose brains are in his shins.
Primate- A burglar's cohort with the crowbar.
More may be added later, and all are welcome to contribute, either in comments,
or e-mail me and I'll add them.
Just like I said it would go down the Speaker of the House
sold you out to (liberal left) makes him a rhino louse
Obama called and thanked him, for giving his suppport
A great big hug across the aisle for his number one cohort
Most on the right don't realize, the damage that he's done
John Boehner "clone", (a rhino true) he'll destroy us, make us one
The secret pact that he has made with Obama and his crew
Hidden deep inside that Bill is Obama through and through
Breaks my heart to know he turned, can't call him traitor though
You can, call him "Obamas Clone" his family may not know
Won't be long you'll feel the pain, things hidden in the Bill
you'll wonder, just whose side they're on and it's not yet over still
Lots of funding in the bill, for refugees and more
Illegals? Yes they're in there too, so now you're getting sore?
Yes there's health care for them all, no it's not for you
food and clothing, heat and rent, all those gifts are true
I know it only bothers those, paying taxes every day
the rest don't care, they get their share, a guaranteed monthly pay
The sham created on both sides (John Boehner/ Ryan song)
Paul Ryan standing tall and proud as though there's nothing wrong.....
IN MEMORY OF CENTURION
GAIUS LUCIUS MANIUS
PRIMUS PILUS FIRST COHORT
LEGIO VI VICTRIX
HE SPENT HIS PENSION
IN CISALPINE GAUL
WHERE HE RAN
AN HONEST BROTHEL
HIS FUNERAL WAS GRACED
BY A MURDER OF CROWS
AND GRIEVIOUS LAMENTATIONS
IN THE NAME OF FAIR ISHTAR
DAUGHTER OF SIN AND SHAMASH