Best Commoners Poems
French trader Tavernier in a greed-inspired way
Glared at an idol of a temple in Mandalay
Prying a gem from its eye socket, a curse prevailed
Tavernier died bankrupt soon after making the sale
Louis XIV bought the stone, 1668
A gift to his mistress, Louis had it cut heart-shape
For dabbling in Black Magic, this madam was burned
A century passed with the curse’s power unlearned
The diamond was then bestowed on Marie Antoinette
For wearing it with boastful pride, Marie lost her head
She lost respect from the commoners of her nation
This gem has since been linked to the French Revolution
Cut far smaller, the gem resurfaced, 1830
When a London banker bought the rock of infamy
Henry Thomas Hope survived; the curse appeared to break
For 70 years the Hope Diamond’s wrath lay in state
A Hope heir’s marriage collapsed; his wife evoked the curse
As she foretold, subsequent owners’ fates would be worse
French broker Jacques Colot went mad, suicide his road
Sultan “Abdul the Damned,” insane after being deposed
Then to an American the Hope Diamond was sold
Washington Post owner Maclean watched horrors unfold
Other household members died, but it was Maclean’s son
Ten years old, struck by a car, his Dad’s mind came undone
Ultra-light ray tests caused the mystery diamond to glow
With safety in mind, Hope’s eerie stone found a new home
It remained locked on display in the Smithsonian
Could it be to blame for all that’s wrong in Washington?
Tragedy also tied to raiders of King Tut’s tomb
Perhaps lessons can be gleaned from those who met their doom
Robbing temples, burial sites, outcomes always bad
Greedy souls’ quests for wealth can leave them totally mad
So don’t expect me to purchase a diamond in the rough
Considering this gem’s history, a sandstone’s quite enough
footsteps aimlessly
walking on their trails
beaten down and broken
shiny as the rails
the rails of the train
over used and rusted
crumbling ignored
the system that you trusted
the silence of conformity
the quiet crying song
of people lost in apathy
monotony so long
the old man remembered
the booming days of old
and tried to warn the youngster
with stories he had told
the young man in the t shirt
can hear no warning cries
television cataracts
covering his eyes
commoners injected
with complacent misdemeanors
fed intravenously
from mass media feeders
the heretics will scream
with no one to hear their call
the working slaves will perish
society will fall
in the pulpit yelling
mystifying lies
sweating like a demon
with fire in his eyes
passing round a dish
to collect the workers' wage
saving souls ain't easy
so he sets a stage
profiting from fear
preparing them for death
comfort is a business
says his liquor breath
on the front row fanning
the woman says amen
waiting for the bell
so she can live in sin
forgiveness is a blessing
that god will give to few
surely she'll be one
when her life is through
the child in the classroom
with the curious mind
will be beaten and conditioned
until she too is blind
"trust in the system"
is the motto that they teach
"question nothing,
so higher you can reach"
the land of the free
the home of the brave
only for those of us
content with being slaves
some will stand on street corners
holding big white signs
telling of injustice
held beneath our sights
but those who throw the bombs
which burn society down
those will be the shakers
for true freedom to be found
but the sheep still continue
to justify their life
ignoring others torment
blind to their strife
perpetuating failure
selling bankers souls
to keep on consuming
to get the best remote control
to build themselves a shield
what kind of life is this
numbness is a virtue
and ignorance is bliss
If I'm not normal should I conform
and seek to perform as all do
or should I reach to perfect my form
and be how I was born true
There's safety in numbers
but this one wonders
if one mind wanders
walks afar in sunder
while others slumber
standing to ponder
previous blunders
could the one that wanders
understand wonders
give back to numbers
who will then wander
beyond to yonder
as those once stunners
become common runners
out of the box thinking stuns some numb,
it's a heavy weight knockout they come undone
for others to have thoughts you wrestle is fun
a combination they shuffle like a champion
commoners thoughts pace up and down
the same sites with the same sounds
facing lows and heights on the same grounds
hoping to sight delights unfound
but it's not how I do as I venture out on random paths
the way untraveled collect clues bits quarters make halves
with half an idea plough through though told it's daft
until I announce I've something new which stops laughs
so should I conform against my nature
work to reform and advance my stature
live untrue to me as though an actor
allow only unnatural attributes to factor
why misplace and waste so it's untraced
and put in its place the common taste
when I could embrace what can't be replaced
and chase it and ace with my victory face
POTD 9/7/2019
Magnetic attraction, enchanting dream of a lifetime -
majestic pyramid attracts my eye,
mystique draws me in
O, your architecture! Pavilions, colonnades; art enclosing art,
every square inch deliberately designed,
ceilings pour forth scintillating splendor
Antiquities from Rome, Egypt, the Orient:
trying to wrap my head around art
created in Mesopotamia 6,000 years ago
Dazed and captivated in your Greek sculpture hall:
Bronze beauty, marble magnificence,
Venus de Milo seduces still
What history you have archived on your walls and pedestals!
Charlemagne holding his scepter,
Louis XIV in regal resplendence
Oil on canvas communicates genuine genius
Rembrandt, Rubens, Raphael,
Vermeer, Van Dyck, Vigée-Lebrun
Mythology awakened to life in marble:
Hera, Hermaphrodite, Neptune, Nymph,
Psyche and Cupid
Even commoners respectfully regarded:
Messina's military man, Brueghel's beggars,
Michelangelo's dying slave
Centuries of religious faith expressed with grace and grandeur:
Moses in the bulrushes, Islamic ivory,
the penitent Magdalene, Virgin and child
Artistic vision reflects and redirects history:
Renaissance masters forecasting the future,
Monet's Impressionism a daring new style
Fifteen minutes till closing, where have the hours flown?
What of tapestries, textiles, drawings, decorative arts?
Alas, another day.
Highlight of the day, world's most famous painting:
mysterious Mona Lisa smile
thanks me for coming to visit
Louvre:
timeless testimony to artistic aesthetic
cathedral of contemplation
history of humanity
Written 15 Sep 2020
Lacking
Lacking eloquence
Lector lacking
Bullfrogs and lemmings crooning
In the swamp of dim intellect
Spewing their haughtiness
Through their noses the spittle drops
Collecting in murky waters
Their stagnation hiding within their bubble of hate
When the swamp dries lest it be said
No one will be opening heavens gate
One can not persuade a mind painted in black
They the commoners’ collect like old dishes
On a dirty rack
Should the Cellarer ever turn his back
Plato’s will attack in their packs
Airs of allusive elegance
Slipping away into the darkness
Of extinction
For those with black hearts and feeble minds
They shall never see the ends of times
Only when the white rose comes to full bloom
Shall the meek and kind find their true home
They shall be with angels above
As those assemble in the quire
Songs melodic under the arch
Brothers plotting after songs depart
Time eternal yet as always coward’s preach
Solace coming from wisdom's speak
Their persuasion lacking sincere tone
As the sinners lay underneath cold stone
Build them wider, taller
let us reach for the sky
when we run out of bird's
we'll clip angels on the fly
90,000 lb. sperm whale
wandering, searching for
his misplaced tail...
but elite global outlets will
never fail....only us commoners
stuck in the dark, our vehicles
needing, only one gear~ Park!
We stand up
We gather our weapons
We band together
We fight
We battle
We win
We gain power
We are commoners over
Emperors
We are the powerless with
power
They came
They rebelled
They fought
They conquered
They are Royalty to us
peasants
They command God
They are power high
Ecstasy running through
everyone’s veins
The order of things thrown into
mayhem
Chaos controlling everything
Who are the leaders?
Who are the followers?
Who are the winners?
Who are the losers?
Who are the royals?
Who are the normals?
The leaders are followers
Followers are leaders
The winners are losers
Losers are winners
The royals are the normals
Normals are royals
Everyone is everyone.
She was spirited and happily gay.
Her hair never turned one single bit gray.
I never met her but the old folks say,
Truthful to a fault; they were all amazed.
Commoners adored her. She was well-praised.
Confidence bordered on one who is crazed.
Every girl wanted to be as pretty.
Princess Bren could write a ditty.
And her humor was insanely witty.
A gauzy, filmy, azure sky, with glimpses of cerulean, and a bit of baby blue,
Is the perfect place for the celestial forms to hold a well-attended rendezvous
A sorcerer’s magic wand could have not created anything on earth more beautiful.
The breathtaking soul melding is sacred, as it morphs into ultimate kindred sharing.
With strong-hold in a cosmic realm, the entities exhibit a beyond-this-world-sense-of-caring.
A phantom idea, in the heads of dreamers who do not dare whisper of such wonderful,
Obsession of celestial bliss, held nightly above dreams, of commoners like me and you.
YOU CAN'T COMPETE WITH A TRUE OBSESSION,
IN MY PRESENCE I WILL HAVE NO AFFECTION.
TRUE HAT SWAG WILL BE YOUR LESSON
PLEASE TAKE NOTES, COURTS IN
SESSION. LOVING HAT LANGUAGE,
ITS MY UNIQUE EXPRESSION
COMMONERS, YOU ARE LOOKING AT PERFECTION.
A LIVING LEGEND, WITH NO SUCCESSION
CAN'T CONTROL MY AMBITION
MY HATISM HAS ONLY RISEN.
I JUST HAD TO SHARE SOME WISDOM
YOUR STYLE HAS YOU IN PRISON
CUT YOUR FRIENDS AND JUST LISTEN
DROPPING KNOWLEDGE AND THEN SOME
NO NEED TO BE FEARSOME
STANDING STRONG WITH NO ADDITIONS
MY HATISM HAS ONLY RISEN!!!
TIK, TIK, TIK TIK TOK,
IT'S MY DESTINY AND I RULE THE CLOCK
FOUR GENERATIONS CONNECTED TO THIS RHYTHM
UNIQUE FLAVOR AND SPECIAL SAUCE,
RECOGNIZE WHO'S THE BOSS
HAVING NO SCHISMS OR NO PRISMS
MY HATISM HAS ONLY RISEN!!
The voices came louder and clearer to
Redefine the ideology of the world towards Africa.
The white took us to be monkeys, slaves and beast of burden,
They enslaved us and made us look worthless
Reduced us to nothing but commoners.
Then some voices arose from my village,
Hence the blazing fierce fire never quash it.
Niyi Osundare spoke with the same voice,
Attah sefi, spoke of women discrimination,
Wole Sonyika painfully struck the match
More and clearer was his voice heard.
Femi Osofsan cried through the same voice,
Chinua Achebe, screamed and fought for his country home,
Yet they made his voice dried and unimportant.
Chimamanda Adichie spoke of freedom of the hibiscus
Then John pepper shouted of all and was
recognised among the noble heroes.
Now, here comes another voice from John Chizoba vincent.
He speaks of those rekindled hope.
The voices we heard inside our mothers Kitchen
When she was preparing Ofe Nsala and Utara for us.
The voices always remained us of our responsibilities
In our humble home country.
The village voices speak of love, peace and unity.
It all started with rejection and reproached by the white
Who heard it but only the wise could understand
The saying of an old man when there is Kola in his mouth.
Nothing more is hidden under the sun when there is hope.
Your life is defined of your inner man
Who could not disappoint nor leave you
On the surface of the oceans to perish.
We all have different voices but only
heard when the creativity set in.
The Shadow Of The Guillotine
What is a guillotine ? It is a device for cutting large quantities
of paper, in commercial use these machines supply reams of
packaged paper for use in offices around the world, they are
used for many similar uses in many different forms in countries
all around the world, but the guillotine had a far more sinister
use that goes back to the tenth century, it was used as an
execution device used by many forms of government the most
noted during the period of the 1790's in France. The event was
known as the French Revolution, were the people of France
were treated really cruel, and the guillotine was a cruel form
of injustice to anyone who would be caught conspiring against
the then French Government, the commoners in the end rose
up against the tyranny of the government and their evil dictators
were executed by their own creation of death, and shown no
mercy and by the end of the century was under a new ruler,
Napoleon Bonaparte, he was hailed as a hero of the time, but
was eventually exiled on an island named Elba. those times are
now gone but the guillotine still remains with us today though
it is used for far less violent operations, for simply cutting paper
in our offices and homes. Which proves even the most evil things
can be used for good with a little imagination.
Written: 30th December 2013
Summary: How a violent invention became a useful tool in society.
Souls in fear of uncertain but rampant chaos,
Where the cities bombed and thousands slayed,
Houses broken and the valuable coffers emptied,
Innocents trafficked and the felony at rise,
Commoners conned and the power misused-
The Almighty! Where is the peace you promised?
For love debasing and wars right at the door,
Infected minds with greed and hatred at dispersal,
Altruism waning and egoism the victorious devil,
Compassion at stake and bliss only a wistful wish,
But antipathy even amongst the esteemed bloods,
Soulless and callous, havens blemished with vices
And enmity on the rise as the blazing fire-
God! Where is the peace prayed for everyday?
As I did gaze upon her for the first time as she labored in small shop in what appeared to be
a hole in a wall that open into this place where she did work all day. Almaz was an Ethiopian
beauty with gorges reddish color hair which was filled with big curly locks that seem to flow
into an endless chasm of never ending twist and turns, with a smile that seem to light up that
tiny little room. A rare beauty was she to behold, elegant yet graceful and humble in her
soul…as I did watch her as she did strategically place each flower by hand one by one and
with each gentile twist or turn of her soft golden tone skin colored hands until a work of art
was form inside of each vase that they did adorn.
Sometimes the vases were made of glass or maybe of some type of fine cultivated stone …
but each one that was made to become a work of art made to express someone else’s
declared love or concern for a love of family member or even the lost of an unrequited love
and she did do her best to express their thoughts with the arrangement made from the heart.
With her beautiful brown eye’s that seem to tell a story of a pain and a deep love for her
family… that she displayed with each piece of work that she did make. With each day of hard
work in this small shop where she toiled all day in her endless attempt to repay her family
for a debt that she so desperately wanted to repay…for it was the love of her father that had
brought Almaz the flower arranger to this place.
So many people do take the love of their family for granted, but… no not this lady…no not
this lady…no not her ever, not even for a second in a day. Almaz made the flowers arrange
all day, all for a debt of love that she wanted to repay. Little did she know that it was already
repaid in full… with a father’s silent pray of love to see his daughter in a place where her
dreams could blossom in the promise land, were no Kings are crowned or Queens ruled, but
in this place of commoners were freedom was born to rule. Were even the poorest of men
could rise to the highest office in the land. Truly your father has completed his arrangement
in the vase with the most beautiful flower that he could find to place it in for the whole world
to see, Almaz you are that flower that completes his arrangement.
We leave all we are in the hand of history,
future of our past, past of our future...
when the sun light shines upon the commoners,
let the Izaga masquerade stand tall above them
to prevent the fury of it terrible burns.
Life is a mess worthless to fight for.
The fountain of all beings rest in greed,
Let the children be told of their past,
let the children be told of history of their land.
We can only explain who we are to ourselves,
we try not to be sad like the lonely cloud
But as happy as the tree leaves with the breeze.
We are the change, we really the hope, we are the miracle,
we are the change you are going through.
We see the pains hidden in your pride,
the war against societal change in an umbrellamic foist.
W gather together to make history in victory,
as long as you live, we live not for the fame,
We live not for the moment at hand...
This is the part that summond the bloodshot,
the veil that cause the orbiting of the earth,
the birds that parrot the colours of the sky;
we are the society, the society is us.
You see through our eyes what the community is,
We are the sun, the reflection of the green grasses.
Nature is in the capitalist frame of a federalism,
none stand in the vocal pitch of our voices.
We are the mirrors that reflect men and society,
Poets are mirrors, reflection of the society.
©John Chizoba Vincent.