Best Gamed Poems
A Kite by Weston Gregory
Gamed and played, swift to flight
a kite outbound disengaged from
gravity's might
A laughter of sort at least a smile
that by and by we can untangle
humanity's plight
By swish and swirl and crazy hoops
a kite lighten burden inspires hope on
journey not new
yet, ever changing when life's wind blew
until all's but distant sight, held by cords
and glue
Above horizon daunting for me and you
but, a cinch for a kite with faith inbrued
a chime to dance the rhythm which
nature taught true....
w. gregory
Dear Sir Thomas:
Angels
never fly
too far away.
Cherubs
are
pious messengers
cloaked in
ribbed-serpentine
streamers;
bathing
themselves
in a bemused
shower
of rainbow-lit
banderoles.
Stifled
in an unseen
internal silence -
a clandestine court
of guardians;
our private angels,
unassumingly,
fold their
winged extremities
and gloriously
chant messianic
chorales without an
operatic note
perceived.
No gestures.
Nothing mumbled.
The chosen few...
we know better.
Dear Sir Thomas:
Weren't we
uproarious then?
Biting our lips
and neurotically
watching re-runs
of Laugh-In;
it reassembled
our gamed hurt.
It provided us
with focus,
but now - I'm
acting as a
disguised charlatan,
borrowing
strength
from the cinders
of a simple
nature like yours
(to camoflauge )
my own
internal
disfiguration.
As for the
brokenhearted -
they silently
weep.
Dear Sir Thomas:
Our heads are
turned towards
your smiling face.
Remind us not
about an
unspoken unwanting
or a silent forgetting -
yet submerge us in
the rememberance of
continued happiness.
The grins you
spread upon our brows -
were instantaneous
and infectious.
Your wonder.
Your magic -
irrigates our
veins like a
remembered
shuffle
of a
whispered
solitaire for
two.
Happiness -
you reminded us
not to forget about -
the enjoyable
outcome of an
upturned frown.
For it is our time -
it is
our moment...
to grasp
a minute
in our hands,
within a second,
and
ponder it's memory
for an eternity.
We all trip
upon stupidity.
We all shoot
and
stumble upon
the benign.
Dear Sir Thomas:
An anonymous
angel
spilled my soul
into tomorrow's
chalice
drowning me
in your
splendid
miraculous dreams.
For that
special invitation -
I wipe away my
prayer-filled tears
and thank you -
as you now romp
within an angelic entourage
of embraced
enchantment.
Goodnight, Sir Thomas.
In memory of a dear poet and friend - Thomas Bell
The savage dog barks from the distance
Like family history, representing cancer's deadly hold.
Her courage provides defence with strengthening resistance
While the dog runs boldly through the blistering cold.
As she struggled to get through mind gamed work,
The dog continues to howl from an eerie spot.
Pain showers her like thunderstorms beginning to lurk
Over the horizon; her cervical cells starting to rot.
With concrete season over, hope takes a push
From a devouring disease. Tears shatter her pace.
Now that savage dog rustles in the bush;
She cries with a smile dying on her face.
Fear is growing exponentially like accululating snow.
With her emotion dwindling, the dog imposingly strikes.
Patience, now a task like watching dead grass grow.
Lasers or radiation, the key to flooding dykes.
That courage mentioned before unfolds and presents itself
With questionably undefined power just like a Terry Fox run.
Her yielding sense of overcome drenches all including oneself,
Now that savage dog dead; Cory has dangerously won.
With her spirit completely fufilled to life's brim,
That deadly howl quietly remains true and grim.
She is as beautiful as sky's unwilling to rain,
on 69 degree days,
up high where I have talked all the way down my walk so plain-
so whatever you heard of her blundering fame,
you must shout now how you'd love to die of shame!
Shame in names after the places you gamed-
toying with the very walls frame.
(from novel “Elinor Rigby”)
Why we have loved England?
Not for the Hide park,
ancient castles
and first class evergreen grasses and pastures,
not for Big Ben, Beatles music and other luxurious,
but for the awkward “puppet theatre”
gamed right on the centre of London,
that horrible and hellish perfomanses
where deformed bodies and figures
of famous politics, majors, prime–ministers
queen members and other up-to-date authorities.
shown as personages of harshly sardonic drama.
That popular and profitable business
in Albion – creating and selling monstrous shapes of theirs excellencies
on the open exhibition,
so sharply contrasted with our own preferences
and quite other way of arts perfomanses
practising by our narrow minded artists
deformed sculptors, wicked painters,
enslaved writers and other arts dicreators
survived by creating innumerous golden statures
of our “purest” top governors, “idyllic” leaders,
“angel like” thefts, cleptocraties
and others political idolatories
from our autoritarian idiosincrazy.
Without doubt true,
and yet too redundantly lectured,
especially to our young of body and mind,
the virtual world is not reality.
And yet,
Elders seldom hear
when youngsters pout back
what must equally be true,
Earth's reality is no longer devoid
of virtual communicating worlds
without so many competitive walls
to hinder cooperative re-education
about mutual relationships
between polynomial information trends
and polypathic energy economies
and polyphonic co-relational politics,
all networks for off-line Earth's reality
and on-line virtual ego/eco-centering systems.
The story of information systemic regeneration
reweaves Earth's creation story of Gaian Cooperative Hypotheses
knowing we are already a cooperatively intended democracy
living in diverse locations,
identifiable 4D geometrically revolving spacetime locations
emerging from advents of fertile prehistoric winters
producing reborn ecopolitical springs,
diastatically mature summers of healthy wealth revolutions,
harvesting AutumnElders of poly-nutritional wisdom,
restored in understories
of Yin's first and last winter blanket;
egocentering processors
re-aligning with eco-centered Earth's fractal-regenerate realities,
virtual on-line
as 4D cooperative off-line.
Without doubt also true,
and yet too redundantly gamed and networked,
especially by our young of bodyminds
with bilaterally thinking spirits,
Earth's reality includes on-line virtual cooperatives
and off-line ecological Tipping Points,
climate change
as both potentiality
of cooperative health
and WinLose reality
for competing flesh and blood pathologies.
Truths,
1 is always positive or negative in Earth's metric LeftBrain languages,
just as timeless 0s are both/and equivalent notnot double-bound with 1
co-binary RightBrain balance,
virtual-digital and historic-analogical waves
between past and future,
tipping toward co-present.
Voices from the ashes
I
Note that I was murdered to have risen transformed
Note that my flesh and blood was readily made dust
Note that my bones and skeletons got incriminated
Note that my impetuous voice echoe from the ashes
Note how I was silenced... to have risen transformed
Note how I struggled: from the liberational coercion
Note how I triumphed over the sceptre and bayonets
Note how I gamed over the war sceneries impeccably
II
Note that I was flawless, efficient, resilient, competent
Note that my energies were sapped during the event
Note that my knee crawled from valley to valley deep
Note that my aim was for the betterment of the kins
Note how I was enslaved* before and fought swiftly
Note how I become a guerilla in motherland, savage
Note how I raptured apart the foes and the schemes
Note how I became violent and vigilant in my domain
III
Note that I was a victor before I got engraved deeply
Note that my wrath did grew with the evolution peak
Note that my beloved comrade back stabbed his own
Note that my bornes has risen the ashes mold vessels
And let my long gone blood reflow from the pool of
That Impetuous distant rivers, and rekindle the lost
Blazing flames of the Chimurenga wars... Magamba
Josiah Tongogara the barracks named after decades
IV
Denote when I rise from the ashes I votes mercilessly
Denote when my passions gather I will spit of venom
Denote when my strengths grew I will fight back fists
Denote when my courage reverberates I will burst out
Denote when I become potent, I will reign over again
Denote when I am with the mighty I will aside favours
Denote when I reign the Augustus house it will report
Denote when I speak order will reign, reconstructions
V
Denote how the muddled economy will reboot again
Denote how the incubators of corruption will vanish
Denote how the lost zealous and confidence bestow
Denote how the ills and evils will be driven to extinct
Denote how the brothers will cheer from the drums
Denote how the sisters will break a leg to Jerusalem
Denote how the fathers will fail conscience off brew
Denote how the mothers will pail the yeild in joyous.
Though I’m not Humpty Dumpty, I’ve had a great fall
When I tripped over my lies while walking truth’s wall.
Can all the king’s horses and all the king’s men
Ever convince people I’m honest again?
Where went my stature and my hard-earned persona?
Who’ll save my soul? Will they do it pro bono?
Whence come truths’ flames when you’re discovered a liar.
Whence come God’s lightning and Purgatory’s fires.
I have seen my future, and it bodes bleak.
Its rapid erosion caused my soul to weep.
All of my tears and whereto they seep
Have topped off the gutters in life’s cruel streets.
All this has weakened my boiling brain,
And cannot save me from blame I gamed.
DAMN MY PERFIDY! DAMN SIN’S PAIN!
WILL I EVER ESCAPE TRUTH’S LONG REFRAIN!?
Will the truth that weakened me and caused my woes
Plague my soul during my reputation’s death throes?
Whence comes life’s agony. Whence comes death’s pain.
What is quid pro quo in death’s zero-sum game?
Lies are fate’s hammers but the truth is its anvil.
Will life’s vagaries still vex me once my image is strangled?
Truth’s whirlpools swirl swift and their waters wind deep.
If my soul dies intestate, must bad Karma I keep?
My soul in me to anger stirs, and I
Like a panther that cannot prowl my home
Pushed back from the forest invaded, to die
Edged by concrete; attacked if dare I roam
My own God-given habitat, shall then
I become another victim vile when
My claws unsheathed, spring unflawed the air
And revenge reeks its angry havoc here?
You do not know the primal power tamed
Within the forest of my frame, your greed
Has used me, habitat and fear, now gamed
The hunted the hunter may yet exceed
And not from concrete my cold claws may bleed
But from you trembling before me weak kneed.
SHE SANG
" I FOUND A FOOL"
BEFORE SHE SANG
" A WHORE'S PLADGUE"
THEY LOVED IT WE SHE GAMED
ON "THE HO'S AND THE EM' MONGAZ"
WHEN SANG" STANKY FREAK"
GUESS WHO POPED UP AS
A SPECAIL GUEST?
"BIG" RICHARD AND DA BALLA'S"
THEY GOT DOWN NOOKIE, DOING
SAMPLES AND SOCCI"
PINK PANTS AND A BROKEN ZIPPA"
SWEET SWEET PINKY RING
THE HAND OF THE FAIREST ONE.
SHE SWAPPED JIGGY WIT
DEW AND DIM, ON
BROKE DOWN IN SOUTH CITY BLUES"
"THE NIGHT YOU WERE CONCEIVED"
AND THEY DID
" THE DAY YOU WERE BORN" TOO!
THE LADIES GOT MADE BY THE TIME
HE FELLAS SANG
" TRICK ASS BYTCH"
GREAT CONCERT
I BETCHA IF THEY
SANG SUM CHURCH SONGS
THEY SAY SUM THANG BOUT-IT
IN THE CHURCH BULITINES.
"AINT NO CLASS, WHEN IT-
COMES TO YOUR OWN"
"...honey, wake up, you're dreaming again..."
~Who are you?
"... honey, wake up..."
~I forgot my pen! Stop!
"... you're dreaming again..."
~No! I won't go, where's the duck!
"...honey, wake up..."
~Stop! It's the Monk!
"... dreaming again...."
~Who were you?
Who was I back then?
"what do you know..."
~Leave my house,
I want you to go...
"... about a man in a hat?"
~What was that?
" do you know...."
~ water fades to snow~
" a man in that hat?"
"there on the wall, the
shadow that falls..."
And turned did I
with my shaking eyes
and I saw you there in
the hall.
Frozen in time.
My heart in my ears.
How can it be...
After all these years?
~It's you... I can bet,
~ You're the Monk,
in the wall silhouette.
IOU... the shadow say.
the nic nac from the
kitty cat. Mr.E gamed,
you're here to play.
~Then the Shadow, faded Way...
An affectatious arsonist announced,
“Big buildings’ burning brilliance brightens best!”
casually cites conflagration counts,
darkly deals destruction, designer-dressed.
Extinguishing each edifice enflamed,
first-rate forensic findings frequent failed.
Grievous, grim goings, ‘geniously gamed;
Hurried happenings, hastily high-tailed.
Incendiary incidents ignite
jewel-filled junkets, jazzed jalopy jaunts.
Kindling’s kittling kiss: knave’s known kryptonite,
Lapping, leaping licks, luscious, lit lavants.
Madness! Marauding mercilessly more,
Nefarious, nursing next novel noir.
—————
kittle - birth, excitement
lavant - old English, stream
I am too tired to sleep
I am too hungry to eat
I am too beaten to defeat
I am too lost to keep
All because All because
I love you
Everything is upside down
Everyday I feel like a clown
Every way leads to you
Everyone knows I do
All because All because
I love you
I am too dumb to be fooled
I am too smart to be schooled
I am too gamed to be played
I am too done to be made
All because All because
I love you
If you could figure out love
no one would believe you
Love is never the same
to everyone it means different things
It seems love is only to deceive you
So if I am love's ruse
I happily stay confused
As long as I am with you
All because All because
I love you.
Yet it ended up out of our control
This was years & months & months & years ago
Right before Samhain in the weeks just prior to Yule
'Cause never have I ever fallen in love
Never my heart with false hope I'll ever bug
Its gotta be naturally & over time, you know
Never have I ever let someone see me shine or glow
I'll never let someone in that far for them to even know
I can't remember the second I felt it 'cause the emotion smacked me in my heart like a ton of bricks I can't remember falling "head over heels" or when I caught those particular "feels"
Nor can I remember that split second I decided 'yes,' but I know I Immediately felt superhumanly blessed for it to have been miraculously you
For decades & decades - it seemed we were on a mission, too
Red rose, red rose, your red rose
An overwhelming, calming sense of serendipitous desire to know ALL of you
I wanted to write another chapter within our memories•we've•created•book
I get choked-up re-living how our awkward relationship came about
But still I've never allowed myself the pain of ever falling in love
(If I'm being brutally blunt & true)
The closest I've ever began to fall in love
Was when I got the unique pleasure of getting to be with you in real life
So if there is ONE thing I want you to know
Its that I suck at securing & explaining - but I'm master at proving it with show
Actions mean more than words 'cause words are just something you heard with your ears
And showing doesn't come naturally without fears
There's lots of small things I don't believe you even took notice that I did
'Cause most of the time I just felt like it was expected
But there were so many things - after they took you away, that I really needed to say to you
But towards the end, I felt like everything I said you had somehow stopped believing were true
But that makes no sense, considering our whole life it was only you talking with me that I ever got solace, comfort, or relief
You gave me no reason to ever try and play you for a fool
Even back when we were youngins - still going to school as we grew
As kids you were my highlight many, many days
And if you weren't online, my inspiration dwindled to even wanna try & play
'Cause you were my person when we gamed, too
And nobody else felt the same way as you...
My friend, I’m delighted by your reply.
The moon in my sky, shines the Monkey’s way.
And my Day? Summer. A Lioness she say.
An element of Fire, full of desire.1Storm
So the Maya gamed. My name is Long,
In the middle that Way. And I’m…
Weaving Time, into a new Play.