Best Fomenting Poems
The axis of time foments rage,
And eats freely of cloth.
Even better days will wilt,
Crying, What else comes hither?
The snow on the mountain
Is frozen now, but soon will melt.
The days lengthen like shadows
in the evening.
Time moves on eating as leprosy,
Fomenting trouble upon the unwary.
Post haste, my friend,
And I will trouble you no more.
Beyond some early horizon
The sail of a ship is visible.
It portends a morning:
Shaking to and fro as drunken.
The axis of time foments rage,
The snow on the mountain is frozen now.
Time moves on eating as leprosy,
Beyond some early horizon.
death cannot endure eternity ~ if it could we’d never be born
(quote by poet)
Find rhapsody, great rhapsody, fomenting on high seas
Come lift up waves of despondency, I’m flailing so deep
Bamboozle revenant senses, restore my latent zeal
Overwhelm one million fold, melancholy drowning me
Find ecstasy, give ecstasy, paralyse me with bliss
I’m hooked on saline solution, and compelled to resist
Rejuvenate exuberance, nullify emptiness
I want to be possessed again, in a wild wanton kiss
Find buoyancy, come buoyancy, aerate this lowly soul
Raise me up to the firmament, let heaven take control
I’ll face down blackest ether, see beyond its parasol
Never again to sit stagnant, just to bow shall I stall
Find gravity, sheer gravity, falls short on temple steps
Pressurising in nature, stopped dead in a gods codex
Free now to bathe in mercy, overcome but not by depth
Expanding on forever, where beginnings intersect
By
David Kavanagh
Howmanysyllables checked x14
Germany, 1964
In barracks bare of beauty
I lay restlessly in bed. Around, a rife
of lifeless characters
from some Saturday charade
sullenly invite me to their ghastly parade.
I merely pull my blanket higher up
and blatantly yell out "Shaddup!"
A spot of flesh unknown to sun itches
so I scratch. Musty curtains run
in dusty ripples on their pulleys.
The room overflows with bullies
but I turn over in my bunk
and choose to spurn,
scratching a spot that doesn't itch.
I glance up. The light bulb top is dirty.
I reach up, unscrew the bulb,
lay silent in my patch of dark
and try, vainly, to extinguish
a more persistent spark.
The air around me reeks of smoke and beer,
is heavy with the weight of discontent.
I lie still darkly fomenting
an impotent dislike
for atmospheres like this one.
I writhe upon my squeaky cot and dun
and growl like some ancient,
burly, and barbaric Hun.
Vehemently, I vocalize my intense tension
with interjections "nice people" would never mention.
THE SIBYL
If sometimes I have waited on your word,
Do not forget there is an empire
Out to the east, where freedom is muffled,
Where the autonomous cry, the great discovery
Of a soul to itself, is labelled treason;
Tied to the west, where freedom’s pennant
Is torn and soiled like a prostitute’s earnings.
Do not rebuke me, when I see well up
In your eyes, the free zone of my heart,
A ransom, perjured, sold in slavery
To patriarchy’s fomenting lies.
Forgive my cowardice, as I rise to speak
I am speaking on behalf of millions.
from IN MEMORY OF HER
Verbum Caro, Translation of Pierre Emmanuel’s Verbum Caro by T. Wignesan
Glory to the resuscitated Lord
Incarnate cry of the Flesh becoming Verb
The body is not the place of death
Where the soul feels alright despite revulsion
He who holds his nose
While passing his house full of droppings
Whatever be said : My flesh my pigsty
It is he the tomb requiring cleansing
A body all armed comes out of me
From the invincible nakedness
Fomenting peace in the midst of war
He’s of an innocent cast of mind
As virile as the sun
His worth illuminating the earth
The world is set on his head
The man straightens up It is midday
(from Les Jours de la Passion, first published by the Abbaye de la Pierre-qui-Vire by the Editions diu Zodiaque, 1962)
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
Das Don doth debilitate democracy
driving a collateral wedge
deliberately dividing differences
collaborating, collapsing, and collaring
disparity amidst ever
increasing homogenization
extant within contiguous United States
across world wide web for that matter
attested by increased
spike among multiracial
amalgamated enclaves, individuals mixing,
where preponderance of melanin
generally affecting predominance
regarding increasing swarthy
naturally copper toned skin
across vast majority of heavily
Caucasian populated areas predicted
to become minority
according new statistics
located at webpage
https://www.brookings.edu/blog/
the-avenue/2018/03/14/
the-us-will-become-minority-
white-in-2045-census-projects/
predict the nation will become
“minority white” in 2045
which genetic assimilation
also harken better angels
among us to herald
interfaith marriage represent
according to hyperlink-
https://www.npr.org/
2013/04/10/176802652/
til-faith-do-us-part-
the-price-of-interfaith-marriage
close to half of all marriages
in this country over the past 10 years
(this cited for the year 2013,
which mostly increased since).
No doubt, the commander in chief
buzzfeeds into this inexorable trend
disquieting, horrifying, mortifying...
especially white supremacists
decrying, lamenting, threatening...
innocents abroad, and/or naturalized citizens
taking cruel dull liver re: to heart
acrimonious, caluminous, jealous, ferocious...
hazarding, kindling, tweeting
inevitable demographic transition overtaking
North America, and teeming masses
(particularly whose skin color,
perhaps fifty shades of brown,
albeit I hereby posit as
forthcoming second, yet
nonpareil gilded bronze age).
Relatively insignificant disparity
(within schema, asper genus/ species
*****sapiens per se)
people comprise greater similarity,
versus starkly disparate contrasts
between each other,
nonetheless oh bomb men able
enthuses, maximizes, trumpets...
every opportunity to spark
altercations, conflagrations, exhibitions...
animals veritably tearing each other
satiating human blood lust,
where coordination, integration, union...
welcoming brother/sisterhood, tolerance,
versus filleting, fomenting fracturing
mosaic boosts ego
inherent narcissistic tribalism!
I can feel the freezing fright and fear rattling in the marrow of my bones;
It immerses me.
I can feel the vexing uncertainty shrouding me like a black cloud;
It swallows me.
I can feel the baleful worry surrounding me like a pack of ravenous wolves;
It encircles me.
I can feel the awful dread welling and swelling up in me like a violent maelstrom;
It envelops me.
I can feel the cumbersome woe strangling me like a constricting python;
It entangles me.
I can feel the taxing stress crashing and breaking like tsunami waves on the shores of my mind;
It besets me.
I can feel the agonizing anguish beating my beleaguered soul to a bloody pulp;
It besieges me.
I can feel the terrible torment fomenting an emotional breakdown and upheaval;
It encompasses me.
I can feel the perplexing pain plaguing my heart with rancorous delight;
It inundates me.
I can feel the damnable distress torture every fiber of my being;
It binds me.
But I can also feel the wondrous spirit of Hope rising inside me like a spring of faith;
It strengthens me.
*Written for my dad who is now battling kidney cancer. All thoughts, prayers, good
vibes and well-wishes are sincerely appreciated. Thank you ~Chan
When dappled shadows flit through darkened backstreets,
and whispers rendezvous with one another,
the usual bright spirits take a backseat.
They nurture remnants of rebounds which smother.
When cadence of sweet trilling of dawn chorus
unwelcome thief: give dream a few more seconds.
Deceit of sun when rays are merely porous,
its loving embrace reaches out and beckons.
Fomenting trouble ‘gainst my better judgement;
tormented by unbidden thoughts of moments.
The unexamined life is not worth living –
fulfilment’s in the act of freely giving.
Inspiration that’s echoed in poetry,
I dance with shadows in this vibrant city.
Poetic form: Yclept Sonnet. For more details regarding this form, please see my article, Introducing Three New Sonnet Forms, here on PS. Also, a 'Summary of Metres' is depicted.
Timendi causa est nescire (Ignorance is the cause of fear).
– Seneca
About two thousand years ago,
when Quintilianus said it
(at least, that’s who gets the credit),
his paradigm was apropos:
the words “Vestis Virum Reddit.”
Garbed in leather, silks, and cotton,
emperors took his words to heart
(at least, they tried to look the part).
While rags for the misbegotten
kept wealth and hoi polloi apart.
Latin lessons soon forgotten
as kingdoms rose and kingdoms fell.
The rich get rich, the poor rebel
all through the Middle Ages rotten,
and the Enlightenment as well.
The New World spawned a tyrant king,
who would rule The Divided States,
fomenting fears with false dictates.
He'd boast that he knew everything,
a claim the test of time negates.
Galumphing loud he’d hit the links,
while flashing flaming orange hair,
and a most massive derriere.
His minions thought it ugly stinks,
but if he knew he didn’t care.
Sometimes he’d putt without his clothes,
few dared tell him he’s forgetful --
those who tried were soon regretful.
For it’s the truth that he most loathes,
and Media makes him fretful.
What is the measure of a man
who walks naked from his tower
while his Party members cower?
Has no patriot in his clan
the spine to speak truth to power?
When pictures in the Press were viewed,
“Fake news!” he’d claim. “This I decree.
I wear fine clothes, as you can see.”
Blame hubris? Blame ineptitude?
Let’s let the judge be history.
So, let us speak of history,
to the feckless that forget it
the words “Vestis Virum Reddit.”
Let truth be not a mystery --
give Quintilianus credit!
February 2022
"Latin Lessons" Poetry Contest sponsored by Margarita Lillico
The wind that bends the sticks and stems
Sends a message that makes the lights grow dim
I don't know when, but I will transcend
This disaster and all its whims and trends
After fomenting rebellion I was soon rescued
And all I could think about was my niece and nephew
A modern Pygmalion sculpting flesh and sinew
waiting on life to be breathed into my statue
The narcissist's mirror has been shattered
And the barbarian's bravery has been battered
The scribe's scroll has been burnt and scattered
And the figurehead's ego has been flattered
Let's not forget, last but not least
We must remove the burden from the beast
Subsisting solely on scraps from the feast,
Prayers from parishioners and pedantic priests
That heavy yoke must be destroyed
And auxiliary forces must be deployed
That unfamiliar feeling of being overjoyed
Has been gone so long and left such a void
by Michaelw1two
Antilegomena, a direct transliteration from the Greek, refers to written texts whose authenticity or value is disputed
Exclusion, the reasoned gist, of this nation’s present trends,
revised, reworked, reworded, towards what particular ends;
enticingly so, provision’s rend, unseemingly my thought’s portend,
nonresonant replies to this crude haste, that truth, secrecy prepend.
Importance and what is valid truth, appears to earn no worth,
where written words once applied some proof, the dillies dallied smirk;
neither, nether, needling needs, advanced by domineering corporate jerks,
suggestion’s jest, provides resounding tiff, to amerika’s dullard’s mirth.
Warrants placed, once trusting bets, that each participant did solemnly swear,
initiating this allegiance, of god, country, and family, now thinly veiled veneers;
trusts bygone, a new age sprung, brought forth by the froth of fomenting profiteers,
profound indeed the implication’s seed, the mass of US conceded to fascist engineers.
Loss does bleed indifference, no more is war progressed as an ending game,
gains make all the difference, whether or not humanity realizes the awful shames;
books of words work worries wonders, where secrecy imbibes each thought profane,
cooked are the truths of imperialistic ruse, the few coerce the masses, that’s insane!
Historically, when gain was king, the impoverished arose and took off their heads,
asking naught but parity’s bless, enough for each, and for return to Eden’s gifts;
however, truth is apparent and graciously so, only loss will return US from the dead,
soulless few who profit so, must be decimated, before healing our country’s rifts.
Currently, the status held, that wicked men and wayward wars yet steer the helm,
from my individual position, these truths stand tall as does the 'mouse that roared';
these few who seek to hide these truths, we all know the master of their realm,
bargain not remove this lot, words wrote long ago, remind US of the peril or reward.
June 2013
gratifying grand PooBah gnashing happily. How envious
eye feel. This generic guy hallucinates (walled within his
lovely bones) incredulously, jealously, knowing lackluster
marriage never ordained plentifully, quintessentially, royally,
satisfying throbbing testosterone undulating vibrantly within
xman yawping zen. Ah know this phallus fantasy tubby
merely a whet pipe dream, yet no logic can extirpate
frenziedly gyrations glum husband images. Just kindling
lasciviousness massages nude oeuvre provoking quaking,
rip-snorting tooling uniting Venus, with xing yummy zone,
absolute beauties, bunnies cozying dear Emir, fathering
Hugh's illustrious joys, keeping libido murmuring, nesting
on papa's queued rocket ship, thrusting uber vintage weasel,
*** y zapping adroitly buoyant consecrated dick, Ernst
found Grafenberg hallelujah, injunction jerking like mad
naturally oiled pussy, quivering red redoubt stimulated
the unavoidable Vagina, whereat xyz attainment brought
******** delight eventually fomenting gusto, heavenly
induced juiced Kung Lee masterfully negotiating ******,
penultimate quest regarding sexual torquing, ululating
vocalization wailing women XCI yogi Zorro
absent, bye Casanova, deemed expert ******** great Hefner,
honorable Hugh invictus, joyousness kept legacy maintained,
now...only phantom quietly rubs shoulders, thighs, ubiquity
vibrant viz World Wide Web.
In Arkham Asylum the twisted reside
Who killed as they willed for the thrill of the ride
The ones who resisted, who put up a fight
Were nearly undone by the evil delight
These evil-deed doers who need to be bad
Are surely in need of the freedom they had
They plan for the day when the darkness and rain
Are par for the course when your mind is insane
The Joker and Penguin, and yes, Mr. Freeze
Are biding their time with a social disease
Two Face and Riddler and henchmen galore
Are hopelessly gone by the Gods they implore
The guards are afraid of the wicked inside
But when you are played for the victims who died
You lose your perspective on evil and good
And choose to be bad for the sake of the hood
The Batman alone is a friend of the night
He battles the bad for the cause that is right
He welcomes the foes who are fomenting fear
Who favor the time when the darkness is near
Though Batman alone is unwilling to budge
The woman you phone is a friend of the judge
The future you ponder is brighter each day
When Arkham Asylum is blocking your way
The water is dripping and running down walls
The cracks in the floor make you wonder who falls
The food is the best if you like eating bats
The lady in black is a friend of the cats
If Arkham Asylum is calling your name
And madness alone is the factor you blame
Rejoice and be merry for what lies ahead
The cream of the crop are the sick in the head.
Fomenting Things
David J Walker
I want to believe
In often thought
things
offered in unofficial
nothings
unexpected returned
things
in unrevealed word
things
unfiltered sun
things
that day brings
as bright as light night
things
mood gel in water colored
RED
things
with white wings
unrecognized
things
the eye
things
and nose rings
denied
things
and whatever we believed
tomorrow
brings
The beer gardens of hatred
are in full bloom
Fermented flowers
of genetic flaw fanaticism
is tavern fomenting
Foaming anger is being violently spread
on the winds of agitation
Upside down cloud nines are bar code vex tripling,
as the weak-willed urge to vomit resist
are whether vain wilting
Autumn spring retrograde progress
has mid-summer arrived
with wintry ease
Sweet wine lying words of fermented pollen
are sourly spreading
Milk poppy discourse is being frost frothily heard —
There’s pandemic fear in the air,
traveling rabidly on the mockingbird wings of despair
The pandemonium lips in the beer gardens
are bar stool pigeon flapping
Sable syntax stamens love the pagan pistil sound
of the sin text send stammering
Wavy flagellate foams of intoxicating hate
invectively spew the inebriated seeds
Suggestive bound violent strings
move the petal puppets on a pollen blown breeze
Oh such a stinging, jingoism buzz ...
making nettle hearts grow nightshade numb,
darkly drunk with power
Paralyzing the budding morals within
the partakers thereof
Plastic bottle souls, empty of empathy,
litter the fallow ground of those fermented gardens
Lemming plants so bloodthirsty
for the brimstone reign
carrying cursed firewater pollen