Best Disguises Poems
A desperate housewife I knew
had such mundane housework to do.
Being so tired of it,
she decided to quit.
Then off to Las Vegas she flew.
Having always been such a lithe girl,
she thought “I’ll give dancing a whirl!”
Her audition went well.
From a large oyster shell
She emerged, so they all dubbed her Pearl.
Her skin, soft and fair, shone like dew
as she smiled with eyes crystal blue.
All the men threw her money
as her voice, sweet as honey,
called out, “Let me entertain you!”
As Pearl danced each night, looking pretty,
Her husband, back in her home city,
was fit to be tied,
thinking maybe she’d died!
Poor fool didn’t have a clue, did he!
Unbeknownst to sweet Pearl, her “dear” spouse
had been sneaking off as she’d played house.
To conventions he’d said
he was going. Instead,
he’d been gambling in Vegas, that louse!
Off to strip clubs he’d gone every chance
that he got. How he loved to see dance
naked women all sizes
in sexy disguises
while his wife at home longed for romance.
Now the tables were very much turned.
And her husband was feeling quite spurned.
He would sleep restlessly
thinking where could she be!!
But her whereabouts he never learned.
No longer could he run away
on a whim. He still had bills to pay.
That cleaning and cooking
meant no time for looking
at girls! He had less time to play.
In Vegas, his wife had come far.
In fact, she was a superstar.
Wearing naught but a fan,
she’d entice every man,
then drive home in a pearl-colored car!
Her spouse lost his job. The years fled.
His wife he then had declared dead.
But with no job in sight,
he’d stay home each night,
with loneliness causing him dread.
Do you think this guy ever has let
his conscience feel any regret
that his wife did so much
while he gambled and such?
Has he learned anything at all yet?
Did he marry and get a new bride?
Did Pearl go and change her sweet ride
to a sleek red Corvette,
and did SHE marry yet?
I leave it to YOU to decide!
Written June 2016 for the Desperate Housewife Contest of PD
A Tree
I’m a tree lining a country road
Along with hundreds of other
Trees in the direction of a verdant
Forest—full of scenic wonder and
Teaming with life.
All of us stand tall and firm with
Such majestic beauty and geometric
Symmetry and precision which is
Evident from the angles and curves
Of each tree and the fact we all
Practically line up in a straight line.
The simplicity and beauty we display
To the human eye disguises the actual
Complexity beneath the surface of our
Existence which could even be likened
To some form of a thought-provoking
Algebraic equation.
We all represent the wizardry of Mother
Nature and the divine thought of God and
Have been an integral part of this Earth
Far longer than Mankind—and do we have
Some stories that we could share with you!
As a tree I’m nurtured daily by our Earth,
But as I take, I also give back and help to
Bring balance to Earth’s daily Carbon
Dioxide output in the greater scheme of
The worldwide environment.
And so, as a Tree, my life and function
As a living organism and an entity here
On Earth is a testament to the wonder of
Creation, and both the marvel and mystery
Of the Universe, and the omnipotence and
Divine power of God.
Gary Bateman and Ingrid Krukenberg-Bateman
– A Collaborated Poem, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
(May 12, 2015) (Narrative)
*Originally written on February 15, 2015 for my new book.
Ticket to Heaven
We drink from the fountain of earthly delights
Sweet to the taste, ever cool to the touch
Blushing of purity bred in our hearts
Glistened enchantment now needed so much
Beneath a rainbow’s curved ribbon effect
Painted in singular motions of love
Rippled reflections bare moonlit disguises
Memories fashioned below and above
A ticket to heaven on silver cloud linings
With only the touch of your rose petal lips
Swallowing all that affection does offer
Consuming desire in delicate sips
Breathless endeavors of water fall shimmers
Deeper we dwell inside every dream
You in my arms on this aqua blue evening
Illumined in passion, aglow in the gleam
Softy your eyes shine eternal devotion
Beautiful visions now all I can see
There is no need for this ticket to heaven
For heaven is anywhere you are with me
Good night Soupers
My Emancipation
The convoluted misconceptions concocted in your chaotic mind
Will no longer deaden, dim, nor darken the light that I shine
Constantly minimizing and compromising, the extent of my plight
I’m stepping out of your dark shadow; I’m stepping into the light
Hiding behind these disguises, I’ve forgotten my reflection
Brushing phony smiles, over the hidden frowns,
Just to camouflage the rejection
Your bad intent is surpassed only by your insecurities and ignorance
I will no longer recite from your ridiculous script
I’ve been concealed behind this mask that you painted for far too long
Continually reading your words, and singing your songs
I’ve followed your painful paths and I have walked far enough
You’ve shown me your hand, and now I’m calling your bluff.
Unleash, unchain, and unshackle me
I am reclaiming my life, I demand to be free.
(Read later stanzas for more of the humour part ; parody of politics)
I Can't think well of a democracy
if nepotism and false promises
are part and parcel of its idiosyncrasy
A system of governance can't appeal to me
if it forever stinks of the 'stinking' rich plutocracy.
The media the ravening wolves many times their puppets,
together they howl for our divided attention
With wily words to win the masses of marionnettes
The nation's welfare merely their scheme in pretension.
Wonder why political power has to be the monopoly
of ambitious, vainglorious affluent power moguls.
Why can't they simply choose leaders
from any sincere poor yet wise and humble individuals?
The promises of a better world by 'em' politicians
are simply the oratory tricks of slick tacticians.
Demagogues come in all shapes and sizes
They come in 'perfect' future leader disguises
Pulling you and me to polling booths, luring us the dumbstruck voters
To amass as much power and wealth as possible in their limited quotas.
No wonder poor presidents are turned or burned
in the form of their rude and crude effigy cartoons
Comic sarcastic politics I say, since a caricature
it purposely lampoons!
Then the demonstrations, remonstrations
but they only invite riots and tear bomb gas
So if yah can keep your rallies peaceful
maybe you won't be such an ass.
And if yah do go ahead ranting, panting, slogun chanting
No seeds of discord nor weeds of hate be sowing, planting
for a showdown with fleshy arms, no metal arms can still be prancing, advancing
With sloguns not shotguns be ye protesting and demanding.
Thus I really wonder if politicos politicking
really do make the world tick.
Or do they simply in many places cause
timebombs to parallel the clock's tick?
(ok cast d ballot n vote 4 me as funny presidential candidate
of no-man's land ;
Soaring into the blue skies, look down
The grey myriad of life's endless mysteries
Dreams lost in a sea of deceit
Seeds of doubt sown, look around
It's too late, there's no saving grace here
A new world, let's build today, now
Scribbled notes, capricious thoughts
A box of crayons and rekindled hopes
A world where you and I can tell the difference
Between forgiving smiles and constant fears
Stubborn pretence and true acceptance
And where the colours are infinite and beyond
A closet of cold disguises and fickle masks is no closet of ours
Let's make way for happier surprises then
And bring that smile back on your face
The sweet-sour scent of waning hay
drifts to town from nearby fields,
pleasing all walkers with an edgy peace.
While autumn gusts enliven shadows,
the wavering moon turns sheets to ghosts,
and disguises reveal diverse fancies.
The mind evokes bewitching specters
cavorting like bats on their nightly hunts,
quickening the pace of parent and child.
Spooky music beckons from porches,
conjuring up faux frights and terrors,
as diffuse mysteries tug at innocence.
Who are you really, when no one is watching?
What makes you think and act like you do?
When will you stop pretending and drop your disguises?
Where will you find your identity true?
Why not embrace the uniqueness of you?
8/26/12
For Harry Horseman's 5 W's contest
I don't know what you're really thinking off me.
If this is real thinking I'm not thinking properly.
Everything inside me fights and tries to stop these warnings in mind, was fine and now they got me locked up in my divided mind of conflict.
In my declining life I'm rock bottom and forgetting my problems.
They want me better, I hear it commonly suggested though I'm exhausted of my efforts I've waisted on attempts.
Spent far too much energy on it and never getting ahead, watching thunder.
Reluctantly under thumbs of this system where parliamentary wickedness judges every movement.
Abusing their power, final hour they're losing vital signs, leave them clueless so there's room for improvement.
Some remain loyal and accept their horse ****, yet I predict our government will get a quick kick to the ribs for their fibs.
Lies and cheap disguises so why am I obliged to fight beside this nation.
When the devastation came rampaging like a hurricane over their stage coach show, I'll crack the cases open then stroll like a Roman soldier no tolgien and when I expose these vocals unspoken, no joke it'll explode then we'll watch the commotion.
Then to them we're out focus when we brew up mad potions stewed like hocus pocus and I'm in total involvement like when I'm holding a microphone flowing a rhyme with words that may upset and turn ya perpetrator.
My brain splits like a glacier when my pen hits the paper and scripts murder and hurtful things in rhyme violence to beat riots, I'm defining mad science.
Temperatures off the gauge it raised up to the max, the glass cracked open, I'm breaking the stats.
Crazy devil dance out weighs your heavy stance, the landscape shakes when my mental state slams.
Nastiest override of your entire mind. I'm the supplier of rhymes the sets ya head on fire and ignites you on the inside.
Time to end denial and since I was a child I swore never to break a vow and saw mama pass down thoughts like the day after my father died she cry laughter....
What a clamour
What a noise
To bring social justice
To answer the cries
That's gone on for centuries
That they keep maintaining
With promises and lies
Black lives matter
So we shout
But who hears the cries
When the establishment do nought
After the cotton fields
Up comes the continuity
In the justice system
When we are gunned down by agents
Who prey on our community
The leaders are aware
But do they really care
When they fail to dismantle
A system , which is so unfair
Slavery maybe abolished
But injustices lingers on
In its many disguises
And the many layers
We face, all day long
Martin Luther made a stand
Bob Marley, sung redemption songs
Freedom fighters raise their rifles
And in the graveyard
Gather the mourning throngs
There is no hope for change
When you maintain a system
That heaps suffering on the wounded
And depravity prolongs
For in the utterings
There is a promise of change
But when it comes to implementation
Not A Stroke
No progress made.
He grabs her wrists to keep her fists
From beating his still chest.
But she withstands and pulls his hands
To rest on her shrill breast.
He pulls her near to hide her tears
And kiss her pallid face.
But then he leaves her soul bereaved
And flees their secret place.
She runs– runs– runs
To the center of the town
And weeps into the well.
Dawn disguises
Steam that rises
From the tears that swell.
Her throat is dry, and with a sigh,
She lowers the small pail
To take a drink before she thinks
Once more of his betrayal.
The water burns, her stomach churns,
While she sinks to the ground.
As liquid spills, she lies quite still,
And makes no other sound.
No one– one– one
At the center of the town
Sees her behind the well.
They take their share
Without a care
And use it where they dwell.
The water is distributed
Throughout the humming town.
It’s used to brew rich soups and stews
And tea to wash them down.
The illness spreads as all are fed,
Obtuse in their last feast.
Decay begins from deep within
As poison is released.
The sun– sun– sun
Lights the center of the town,
Casts shadows on the well.
Their brows are moist
And not one voice
Can break the silent spell.
The sun subsides when he decides
To return to their place.
When he arrives, the moon shines high
And lights the river’s haze.
He ventures down toward the town,
To roam its quiet streets.
But as he nears, it becomes clear
Nobody truly sleeps.
He runs– runs– runs
To the center of the town
And finds her by the well.
Won’t touch her face,
But for the trace
Of tears he cannot quell.
Roaming and roaring...Who's next to devour?
The sins of soul slaves...they give him his power
Steal,kill,and destroy like shots from a gun
Turn away Turn away from the evil one
Slithering serpent hissing lyrical lies
He sees the past and the future through eternities eyes
With a million dark disguises and supernatural spies
He sells you the story and says it's just for fun
Turn away turn away from the evil one
He comes like a whisper and leaves like the wind
Twisting your thoughts and darkening your dreams
Laughing his lyrical lunacy as you scream a silent scream
On the southbound tracks trainwrecks lead to him
With catastrophe and chaos he thinks he has won
Turn away turn away from the evil one
He glitters and shines just like silver and gold
His false prophecies they start to unfold
But just like Goliath got struck with a stone
His time's melting fast like ice in the sun
Turn away turn away from the evil one
Silent One
Silent One rises with the solar system dawn
Drawn by solace in the quiet morning
Riding on the gravitational waves
Through numbered stars through dark matter there
Watching zeros mix, blend into the cosmic mist
Numerically correct seen whole among black holes disguises
Into tomorrow out there in themselves as distances
On the lip, inclining on their axis, universes eclipse then passes
Back at home, outside on roaming fields
Look up with them to take the solar system in
As it folds within a timeless bending scheme
Vast sky-capes emanating mostly quiet
Silent One remains intent, contemplative, waving
Stays out there for hours on a lounge chair tending day
Sipping tea beneath the harmless trees in shade
Sits serenely by, out of sight, time slipping by
Golden sun light streaming over day
Seen are the red and yellow flowers
Green grass peeks through abundant colors glow
Moved in a gentle wind to mesmerizing horizons end
Out there between the wilderness serenity and madness
Night comes on, explores the greater cause
Stars rain down, escapes the cosmic grip
Secrets kept, only to forget them when looking to the void
Lines traced in history, erased, once enjoyed
Silent One stands alone between a zero to the left
Two at the right numerically correct
True in place, quantified, residing
One and History rewind themselves, recite the story
Not to worry. There is always more to tell
A time fast forward quickens to the One original
One will always be the Silent One and not another
Fate will lead us off the silent planet
Earth is temporarily our home
Inevitably fading away into the silence black
Like Silent One, just that
I saw you crying, next to the bubbling brook..
Taken again, eh? You really are a shnook!
Trusting new friends, my, you are dumb!
You have less brains than a fat, ripe plum
People are on the take, when will you get it?
No wonder, lost soul, you are in the pits.
Poetry is absolutely no place for you.
False words are daily fare, here, too.
Welcome to a world of trophies and disguises.
You are dense, seeking friendship in prizes?
When will you stop believing?
This is but a game of words, deceiving.
I know you will write your truth again.
Just like a no-brains, rattled old hen.
5/2/2023
The Grandmasters of Poetica
Make the mass of us look small;
While I can’t speak for thee and they
I gladly take the fall.
From goodness grace,
That unfathomable place
Where Emerson begins and ends;
Who among us from cradle to dust
Comes even close to catching
Him?
With all his disguises
And Whitman’s surprises
Each time I pick up and read:
Song of My Measure
Gives me so much pleasure
I’m humbled
Right down to my knees.
What atmosphere of Shakespeare
Quintessential quill undefined;
Confounds and shatters everything that matters
In the Human, make that Divine.
Emily Dickinson, Sylvia Plath
Dear ladies of love – sorrow - pain,
Frost in the woods and everything good
From Thoreau to Stephen Crane.
Why even tarry,
To merge or marry
Anyofourthoughtwordeeds?
Because love is of pleasure
And this writing endeavor
Is as human as eyes to see.