Best Contenders Poems
Blissfully ignorant and supine,
Lost in the economy line,
voters don’t have a clue
that liberty is through.
Apathy dictates all else is fine.
People keep telling me how foolish I am,
but frankly I don’t give a dam.
I’m going to tell you what I see.
You don’t have to agree with me.
In hatred’s name Moslems prayed at the mosque,
boarded planes and three thousand we lost,
Soon we elected a Moslem president,
his books words and actions self evident.
To prove he was islam’s extremist hero,
He allowed a triumphant mosque at ground zero,
Freedom of religion is what they subtly called it,
by a government that continues to overhaul it.
The American people look on as if still numb,
singing his praises as if deaf and dumb,
while a pseudo democratic uncle Sam,
in a forced health care plan,
continues to turn out liberty’s lights
by destroying other religion’s rights.
Thus the American people’s democracy,
is morphed into a dictatorial hypocrisy.
While blindsided by a frantic economy,
we apathetically lose our autonomy.
Allowed by deaf and blind voters in a loud voice,
Fooled by not freedom but license they call choice,
sly appointment of people who fulfill the plan,
A long range one by the “new” Uncle Sam.
a champion of abortion, killing future contenders
him and Herod; another of the great pretenders.
“Enlightened Americans have one point two children per family,
because of abortion, birth control and contraception
Moslems have seven; which is the anomaly?
We Americans treat babies as an infection.
Laugh if you wish; I’m just exposing the path,
You “enlightened” Americans: you do the math.
A tortured love abides deep in her heart
A love intense and strong, fearless and brave
A love demanding all and not a part
A love that must descend down to her grave
It is a love that bears not rivalry
A love so pure, a love devoid of doubt
It is a love that thrives on constancy
A love that chases all contenders out
With heavy heart that longs for such a love
In flow of passion’s tide she seeks to swim
She cries out to her God who reigns above
And yet there is no sign, her hope is dim
She will not live her life in tortured time
And so she hopes for death, relief sublime
Jade
It’s not about the winning or losing
But how the race is run
To be in the Winners Circle
To bask in limelight’s fun
It’s not about the winning or losing
But how the race is run
The preparation starts well before
The race is even begun
It’s not about the winning or losing
But how one runs the race
In a Universe full of Abundance
One must take their place
It’s not about the winning or losing
But how the game is played
It’s always great in the winner’s circle
Especially when one meets the grade
Life is but a transitional race
In which we take our place
It’s a Universe full of abundance
To foul would be bad taste
Grievances set aside
In Harmony enjoy the treat
A Universe full of Abundance
The World is at your feet
Solitary you battle through the race
On a journey all alone
Let’s join you then and run in fun
That’s how this race is run
Footnote:
The music is from the movie 'Chariots of Fire', a true story of two young dedicated British contenders with different religious denominations who were fierce competitors in the 1924 Paris Olympics.
Music by - 2CELLOS, Luka Sulic and Stjepan Hauser in their new album playing the Title from 'Chariots of Fire' by Vangelis with London Symphony Orchestra.
POTD 15th July 2017
God lets us see life from every angle. Anklebiters that we are. Fist fighters, black-eyed contenders, snivelers. The boss looks down, looks into our eyes, looks at our feet, looks underneath. We don’t see the cobwebs between our fingers and toes, in our mouth and ears. Our hairdos make us look like weirdos, piled fry-high, like the bride of Frankenstein. Our hearts shoved into the easy-bake of childhood. Black-spider shades grip our nose and tether behind our ears, holding onto dendrites. White teeth flash their watermelon pits, black and blue. God lets us see from every angle. The dark spots hinder perfect sight, the dark holes below lower lashes, thinning lips, fattening thighs, exercising our rights, but mostly wrongs. I hear the gong...not many do. Do we belong to the world or to our God? Is this yet Babylon. Our speech once babbled, have we forgotten? Why do you think we don’t all speak the same language? Scientists prove there’s been a worldwide flood. Jesus walked the earth and the sun. Now you see the one world coming together. Remember what happened last time the world did this — were we not scattered? Scientists say there was a continental divide — this once united mass. Indeed we are anklebiters, curtain climbers, toddlers. God lets us find our own stray. Can we find our own way?
1/6/2021
Thy kingdom come.
Thy will be done in earth,
as it is in heaven.
Matthew 6:10 KJV
A pampered son of privilege, of infantile entitlement,
he rode the escalator down, grandstanding his campaign.
He tongue-lashed his contenders, making them grovel
into silent shame, silent, scandalous, craven disgrace,
when Piper had his way.
He spattered spiteful splatter on his screeching penny whistle,
crude culture war caustics, the coded corrosive cacophony
of othering, of terrorizing, the Great Replacement closet
skeletons in every white supremacist’s delusion,
when Piper had his way.
The raging torches burned holes in the night sky,
from all the fuming, festering fractures they came.
He reeled in vermin, gnawers, ticks, fleas, and maggots.
From fetid, rotted flesh, the dead and dying democracy,
when Piper had his way.
The noxious stench permeated every moral fiber,
Every conviction was consumed by avarice.
Every flaunted corruption overpowered common decency.
Every dull-witted stunt became a predictable mockery,
when Piper had his way.
And thus, he led all the children of Hamelin astray
with his deceptive, discordant whistle squeaks.
He sealed them in his criminal conspiracy cave.
They never questioned his chicanery,
when Piper had his way.
And so, when Piper finally faded away
the defilement dragged on and on.
The diseased, depraved devaluation persisted.
The sordid, squalid, sickly stain remained,
since Piper had his say.
This is a true poem,but is it true because the "one"who it is about might be "IN""THE SON OF PERDITION"? I WONDER. Donald Trump is the "Duse" in "The Republican Party"and The Duse is taking all!Donald is "Trumping them all"! At the very "Top" remains "Donald J. Trump,and "The Duse continues to "Trump " them all! Donald holds all four duces and throws one out each day,and takes it back as the game proceeds in play!!! Duces are wild,and duses "Trump All" wheather they be aces,kings,jacks,or anything when they are in play,and Donald Trump uses his four "Duses" to take the one duce back that he gave away!! Donald loves to "Play",and he is really in style,because "NO ONE" is beating Donald in "Duses are wild! Donald was a "Gifted Independent Republican Child"! Donald is part of the"Independent Republican Party",because he parties hardy,and now "The Republicans" are "The Majority"!!! They are partying hardy ! Donald Trump says that he has studied "Political Science" for only six months,and Donald ;Trumps,and Trumps,and Trumps,and he is leading all of his Republican contenders everyday,and in every way.His Democratic,and Republican contenders are career politicians who can "Debate" and win,but since Donald Trump took all the "Duces"away from them he is really "Trumping Them All!!! Donald is a "Gifted Independent Republican Republican Man" who "Towers" over them all,and Donald sits "Atop" Trump Tower,and belittles them all! Donald Trump is free to be whom ever he wants to be,because he realizes that he lives in a "Democracy"! Donald Trump is trying to be "The Best" that he can be as President,and his "Duty" is to keep "Freedom"from going into any kind of "Captivity"!!!! Donald is Trumping them all!!
ANTIDISESTABLISHMENTARIANISM (acrostic)
A lthough I’ve attempted some difficult and
N eddlesome poems in my decades of writing,
T he ultimate challenge had to be an acrostic
I n which the longest English word was chosen.
D eciding to undergo the absurd challenge
I delved into the history of these useless words and
S oon it became abundantly clear that
E asily the most popular of the contenders,
S hellacking Shakespeare’s ‘honorificabilitudintatibus’ and
T aught to students from kindergarden to grade twelve, was
A ntidisestablishmentarianism.
B ut sadly, there were multisyllabic monsters even
L onger, like the one we came to know and love
I n Walt Disney’s 'Mary Poppins'-
S upercalifragilisticexpialidocious- which
H as fourteen syllables and a letter count of 34.
M ost linguists agree that deciding on the longest word
E ntails whether or not you allow chemical
N ames like dichlorodiphenyltrichloroethane
T ypically referred to as DDT.
A nother matter is the acceptability of lingo,
R igmarole, jargon, balderdash, twaddle and
I diomatic gibberish…
A ntidisestablishmentarianism,
N ot withstanding its pedantic appeal,
I s clearly the lexiconic choice and
S hould win the ‘Longest Word’ crown
M ade from elbow patches and Donegal tweed.
© 2009 James Rasmusson
A Knight from the vast Kingdom
of The King of Holy Throne.
Michael slept within a castle
on beds of peat moss, and of loam.
His face was sedimentary,
though laughter mapped its course.
And his gleaming hair cascaded,
much like a Viking of the Norse.
His raiment wasn’t fancy.
No silk nor satin hose.
But his mind was quick as silver
and his heart was pure as gold.
Cloaked without, by a robe of integrity.
Fortified within, by a will of steel.
He wielded the Sword of Justice,
while holding Truth up as his shield.
Saint Michael’s crusade was legendary,
as was the power of his sword.
Forged to slay the inner dragons,
in reverent service to our Lord.
Countless times the blade was tested,
for malice dwells not on defeat.
Never lacked he for contenders,
disciples of rumors and deceit.
Bad Rumor sowed the seed of doubt
within the mind of man.
Watered from the trough of spite,
he conceived his evil plan.
Each rancid seed that sprouted
grew to a bud of tarnished mail.
Thus, shrouded by corrosion,
he sought corruption to prevail.
When Rumor heard of Saint Michael,
his phosphorous eyes lit up with hate.
Armed with his pitchfork and scythe,
he charged through his hellish gates.
Targeted by dark ambition,
saddled by vicious greed,
he raced upon the clouds fate,
engulfed by jealousy.
.
Michael felt the evil presence
and strapped on his Mighty Sword.
Then he rode off to a clearing,
in the sweet realm of The Lord.
Rumor attacked with animosity,
his trident held, as if a spear.
But as the Sword of God unsheathed,
Rumor was lanced by sudden fear.
Michael raised the Sword of Eminence
as if to pierce the sky.
While sunlight sparked along its blade
a beam smote Rumor’s eye.
Blazing light seized Rumor’s mind.
It seared his ravaged soul.
And when the inner battle ended,
Rumor’s heart was charred to coal.
As Saint Michael wiped soot and ashes
from the length of his trusted sword,
his eyes fell upon the hilt
to runes inscribed there, by The Lord:
“May The Force be your faith
May your spirit know The Lamb
May Love guard your heart
May The Light guide your hand.”
The ballot is stronger than a "bullet"
People pik their voter's cards from their "wallets"
They vote for a candidate,they want to "elect"
It's the LORD's decision who to "elevate"
Unity,oneness,in this country,lets "motivate"
Hate speech,let's all "eject"
Evil influencies, we people "reject"
Between two contenders, we voters "evaluate"
The best brains,with "big dreams",good morals",
we "select"
The bullet kills,the ballot does "seperate"
Where we lose, let's conceade, it's never too "late"
A kiss from heaven
A magical time
A true love is rare
But decidedly divine
My picture of love
Was carefully designed
Two parents and a home
That I could call mine
Shakespere and romance
Filled in some gaps
Passion and desires
Completed the map
But can we play
With the cards we're delt
With time an enemy
And the beauty of someone else
How can I win love
With what I have
And the ideal of me loving
Makes people laugh
All the ledgends and stories
That I would use
To make myself something
Besides abused
Hope springs eternal
When it comes to love
As fools we dare to trust it
But it's love that we're made of
Love plays its game
Of hide and seek
And of all emotions
It's the most unique
Why we desire
This awesome power
When by it we are
Weakened by the hour
Upon inspection and
Deep reflection
Without it flesh
Is incomplete
The laws of attraction
Mixed with fashion
Or divide the strong
From the weak
Is love law or law love
While contenders ferociously
compete
Long and lonely
This part of lifes journey
That so often leads
To dispare
It's not just physical but it's also
Finding someone who cares
Ashes to ashes and dust to dust
Did we find that sacred trust
Or are our memories
Filled with lust
And like our bodies to decay
And rust
Was our destination
Heaven or bust
Johnny Loving
POET AND PHILOSOPHER
Political propaganda versus debate with ideology manifestations of today brings forth a new species of political expressions boldfaced.
The hoopla indoctrinates the brain of contenders stating their game.
The panels are in place as a nation of people listen-in to the visionary scope of Politicians.
Political figures desiring the top seat that gives him or her leadership for four years.
Never to be any more prolific then the prose they speak.
But oh, a new generation is in appearance - a new species of political culture.
A poet and a philosopher latitude.
Room for maneuvering dogma that inculcates a greater focus and a better way.
The envoi proselytizes.
A verse and flow of figurative literature platforms.
An allegorical formation shown that henceforth a stronger political forum.
Thus, today informs an eminent tomorrow.
A poet and philosopher typeface the state of a nation time sequentially.
Where eternity is seen.
That is of the United States of America longevity.
_____________________________________________________________________|
Written March 17, 2016!
Built to take the abusive raqueteering
punishment unleashed upon me
by human beings
Towering around those agile people
so quick of foot and strong of arm
with blood sweat, and testosterone raging
Black rubber ball scuffs pure white painted walls
a dash here, a strike there, a record good or bad
but each a mark of personal aptitude from a player
Highly varnished wooden floors sit at my foot
Echoing squeaks and thumps from trainers around vast cells
where contenders choose to be imprisoned
Supportive friends often stand outside courts cheering on
While racquets wave, splicing the air repeatedly
Until game over, exhausted and calmer pair remove shoes then vacate
Will this leave me in peace again
or will it mean my services are further required today
Just what is on my timetable and for how long my working life?
For days cold wind has blown from the channel
but it has calmed to milder breeze today.
I feel a soft spring breath upon my cheek
and hope the gentleness is here to stay.
The strong gale stripped the apple tree of blossoms.
She's now content to show her advanced age
and steps aside in modest resignation
to let the sweet lilac take center stage.
Rhododendrons and azaleas are contenders
for lilac's glory when she starts to fade.
My garden beauties all demand attention,
sun lovers and the ones that thrive in shade.
While I was trapped indoors, the weeds kept growing,
taking my garden as their own domain.
Nature is a strong and stern taskmaster,
just waiting for a chance to grab the rein.
So Mistress Dandelion, I give you warning;
I'm coming with my spade and rake and hoe.
You are invading space reserved for others;
so pack your bags it's time for you to go.
Tell your friends I have eviction orders;
the elegant Miss Rose will be here soon.
She'd be offended by your wanton ways
at her big welcome party come this June.
As the sun turns blood Red in a dark empty sky, on the plains of Megiddo 4 horsemen ride by,
Of biblical proportions much blood to be spilled, revelations played out and prophecies fulfilled,
Then along the horizon God's angels I seen, as mankind wished that somehow the slate they could clean,
But the Earth's being flooded by the tears angels cried, as the dead and the living they stand side by side,
And the falsest of prophets does rise from the East, and he carries three sixes, the mark of the beast,
As to deal with the carnage all mankind does try, on the plains of Megiddo 4 horsemen ride by,
So the battlefield's set and the war will be waged, the season finale of life to be staged,
All the major contenders are playing their part, Armageddon loom's closer,the fights set to start,
As the good and the wicked they fight for their worth, the mother of all battles begins on the Earth,
And the rivers rum red with the blood of the slain, as brother fight's brother like Abel & Cain,
And as fire & brimstone rains down from the sky, on the plains of Megiddo 4 horsemen ride by.
two-thousand-four
losers no more
Boston Red Sox
out of the rocks
contenders again
beginning to win
three word series wins
no more Babe Ruth sins
now Ortiz calling it quits
won't send the Sox to the pits
for they're stronger than strong
without doing a wrong