Best Gratuitous Poems
Is it insane to want to watch your step,
to purposefully plant a foot?
Must one’s eyes always be downcast,
if not pierced or piercing are we lost?
leaves fall
color flees
we stand clothed
but bare before the storm
across a distant lake the light shimmers
like mercury under glass
the sky larger than the landscape
lays down tumble weeds of cloud
tripping across a buried morass of roots
the beauty under foot screams for its share
of gratuitous attention
floriforms of fungus blooms
resplendent in silence
static and maudlin
is the eye
Somehow, I think sanity is not
all it’s cracked up to be.
First Published by Five Poetry Magazine January 2014
~The ONE who remains SILENT II~
Original Poem written: December 18, 2016
I've written it before, and I'll write it again...
~My own personal quote~
“The ONE who remains SILENT, speaks volumes with his words.”
I don't wish to know his name, it doesn't matter to me at all.
to be so compassionate and listen to the voices that go unheard,
the grace, skill and virtuosity he holds while his silence enthralls.
I'm not afraid to express my gratuitous
tidings and respect for the man who needs no name.
To be so graciously talented and expressive through his passion to write. A haiku or a free verse, it doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is that his encouragement flies freely for many poets, and he creates a fellowship built upon righteousness and justice.
He believes in fellow poets and his constant positive feedback is valued by many.
He carries an inspirational flow to his poems,
a man so quiet, yet never goes unheard,
His inspiration keeps our focus growing,
“the ONE who remains SILENT speaks volumes with his words.”
see it everyday
silence speaks so many words
genuinely cares
~Date Written: February 22, 2016~
* for maximum effect cue audio at stanza break
"For as they were in those days before the flood... so the presence of the Son of man will be." - Matthew 24:38-40
I see them, though they cannot see me. I watch as they engage in their hedonistic desires, indulging in licentious lust as they pursue gratuitous greed and perverted passion without restraint. Their skulls are hollowed-out turnips, their tongues cast poison darts. Their throats are an open grave as they spew slanderous lies and hold my people in contempt. Their blasphemies against the Spirit will never be forgiven, not in this world nor in the one to come. Each has a heart as calloused as a smith's hands, while their souls are blacker than dark matter. Enjoy the revelry my fiendish foes, at least until the clock strikes the midnight hour. For you see, I am near at the door. You don't know me, but I have many names. I am Abaddon, the Destroyer. I am Apollyon, the Ancient One. There is a judgment pending, the sound of which will tingle all ears and turn faces red with sweet wine into whitewashed gravestones. Listen, listen. Can you hear it?
(gong)
(gong)
(gong)
(gong)
(gong)
(gong)
(gong)
(gong)
(gong)
(gong)
(gong)
(gong)
AND NOW, LET THE FINAL DANSE MACABRE BEGIN!
play a mournful dirge
sing a song of surrender
for His day has come
"Amen! Come, Lord Jesus." - Revelation 22:20
* A companion to my POTD Apocalypse Now
Tower, buzz and scurry
Oh great resilient city
Ahoy!
Alive. Scramble bustle earth's
ethnicities
On lurid quests--
A pendulum of tantric turmoil and
Blessed harmony
Quixotic city--brash,
Sangfroid merotomized and
Chrematistic--metro nonpareil.
See a myriad melange of
Tortured splenetic
Souls and great spirits
Noble and soothfast
Great city, your hecatombs
Of underground trains
Roar scream in
Hodge-podge graffiti attire
Fat fuming brattling buses
Grunt their huffpuffs,
And nervous cars scissorcut
Impatiently betwixt tarred and
Cemented streets
August and capacious
Ferruminated grey glass and steel
Towers--Aeeries in obeisance to the
Heavens, erupt in anabasis at the azure
Pearly welkin,
Humming diapasons of marvelous
Melismatic tunes
A gallimaufry of cacaphony and
Sweet sounds--the
Great Metropolis persistently
Thrives.
Streets adorned with sylph fashion
Models, conute churls, street
recrement--dazed and forgotten men,
Enticing shuck and jive
Blandishing street vendors,
Natty brujo business gentry
With their helotry on a
Ferris wheel of daily
Triumphs and defeats and
Cheeky mendicants
Shuffle along allegro vivace
Howling chorus songs amidst a
Torrent of raining dollars and
Coins floating in the skies over
The brazen metropolis.
Snuffling restaurants like hives
Humbuzz the grandiloquence,
Pithy slang and sententious
Persiflage of the day.
A truly syncratic parley
Of passions sentient
Of crimes basilic
Of arts sacerdotal and gratuitous
Of fashions arabesque and outre
Of plays frivolous and profound
Of music sericeous and truculent
Of money pursuits solonic
Of loves ascendant and descentdant
Of rejections mournful and joyous
An e'er persisting cha-cha-cha and
Boogie-woogie of the fierce
Bustling bubbling bold city,
Pendulumming pandaemoniums and
Resolutions, day
Upon pertinatious day.
David John Hart 2003 USA
Twas the night before my cousin's
wedding
He reluctantly gave in to the
bachelor party vetting
A burlesque, tawdry strip club was
the setting
Unbeknownst to him, the bridesmaid
was his appetite whetting
With gratuitous lap dance, began
the ribald feting
In drunken stupor, the enamored
groom his fealty forgetting
Released his inhibitions all of his
clingy garments shedding
Strode platform, in sync with
bridesmaids erotic moves duetting
In tantric rhapsody, she released
pheromones his testosterone
subletting
Enraptured with his riposte jaunts,
her matrimonial bond shredding
The enamored bridesmaid with lust
his bare essentials began petting
His betrothed parts to her
dominatrix will indebting
As the groom climaxed, his phallus
got entangled in her fish netting
Two truant souls now writhing;
spent body parts bloodletting
Dislodging their carnal chains, into
frothy night jetting
To hotel that lodged devoted bride;
their remaining passions bedding
Lurid, tawdry tryst not regretting;
but o'er bawdy exhibition sweating
Wedding contest
September 14, 2012
varnished memories
gratuitous rendezvous
votive ritual
Between The Devil and The Sea
( Scylla and Charybdis )
Cosmetic the creature cover girl
is accessible only at night
a picture female in her temple
laying askew on an alter ego
A de lux harlot in romantic rough house
a fetish target
frivolous nymphet with a rampant phallus
And the sinister will follow strictly incognito
In her sticky sexual paradise
blond peroxide sensuality comes by proxy
No virtues abashed
a blow up doll as she lays in prostrate sultry action
her deflowering for titillation
she is said to have a thing for perversion
this ageless angelica this strip teaser
the Molotov cocktail of her own euphoria
Down in the bawdy boulevard men ape their ardour
all mouth to mouth with the call girl
a fondle or a blatant grope
She’s a clock work courtesan to keep her from destitution
to feed the kids she considers herself to be an acquisition
smiling for the gratuitous exhilaration of playing the other woman
vogue with her etiquette indiscreet in the burlesque
self esteem is held between the food the warmth
and not much else
Dance, Monkey, Dance!
Commiserate with the dearly departed
The dead stay dead
Consummate your marriage with anarchy
Dance, monkey, dance!
The media plays you like a fiddle
This life's damned little diddle
Surely there is solace in fear
Birth a scapegoat
While gods parade golden parachutes
Life is ugly
Death is beautiful
A foundation of futility
Every soldier dead
On foreign soil
Build a fence
To keep out the goats
To keep the sheep free
From impurities
Dance, monkey, dance!
Life's tune plays in your ear
Tuned out by words replaying in your mind
Just regurgitated thoughts
That aren't your own
Line the streets with gold
To watch the chaos unfold
Your child's soul was sold
By gratuitous gluttony
Commiserate with the nearly departed
The living could continue living
Consummate your marriage with your own thoughts
Don't be a dancing monkey!
You hear about holidays that people hate
Rarely of exotic taste, finding the better fare,
Cheap enough for travel agents to promote
Such resorts which they advertise with flair.
A visa to start will set your mind at ease.
Most controls need to see your passport,
Wait a little longer in queues to get the air
But when you see the clouds from up there.
You think you are almost down there,
And can feel the landing gear quickly bite,
Into the dust with the wind rushing clear,
As keen concierge are prone to take delight
And provide the right service to a customer,
Looking for a treat to make them feel please,
Gratuitous tips will set their mind at ease.
Though experts give advice on legal matters,
The request that you must weigh points inside,
To set your mind at ease with desired answers,
You may not like files in briefcase discreetly hide
Risk disk others have confided their passions known,
The spiced taste of medicine given in health advice,
A hot desert to match the hazardous pursuit,
Of pleasures snuggled up with stress and hurt.
Of course, there are great professionals out there,
Who practice every day in quite another mode?
Rest assured the church and state is well secure,
Legislation at the door, favor is a governing code,
Making the cost of living rise, equity values more,
You will concur, and welcome another substitute,
From the top of the basic list offering you peace,
In hope of setting your mind at ease.
Life has no guarantee in giving enormous overview,
Take another look, see what you miss in the mirror,
Try to find a younger picture but if you see a shadow,
Humble and mute coming around towards you,
What you see is a reflection of a time and not another.
Set your mind at ease the taunts will not last forever.
Dilemma or demise a prayer brings you to your knees;
Other trading places will set your mind at ease.
Is he absurd to appreciate the abnormal?
Is it admirable to accept her appreciative acrobatic antics?
He's a cool cat, she's his celestial canary caught.
A kept creature can be clearly quite costly.
Young Brandon builds her his best beastly bordello.
Every excellent engineer emits erotic emotions.
Thankfully she is gorgeous, genial and generous.
Golden feathered gown shed, she's gracious and gratuitous.
Perfectly broken she's bouncy bendy and bodacious.
He puts her in his bird like cages, pays her his hurtful wages
She somehow helplessly hopes his hands will heal her.
As her inner Iris increases an iota, he explains why he's irritable.
Cock block knock stops the clock...,
she can't console him with candle lit canary kisses.
No more kink or cum cuz un-kindly doc chimes "she's contagious!"
Out the door on an orange overly dark morning.
He hungers for eggs over easy cause his mind is storming,
worrying about going back to a life that's boring.
But soon a sexy new sparrow with opal eyes is his to order!
Written July 5th 2016 for a July contest.
For Broken Wings' I got Zero, Nothing Nada contest 2.
I thought about it for one day, wrote the next day and edited and revised on the third day.
Freelance wanderer carefully navigating the vast expanse
Shadow warrior doth stealthily advance without
remonstrance
With bartered lance, pawned knife; abridged parlance
Shuffling in tantric harmony o'er unforgiving terrain;
nuanced eccentric
Camel cavalcade, entrancing spectacle across glistening
sands prancing
Shrouded by the frantic wind; each, cloaked itinerant a
tenured mantic
Trading the rationed provenance of open spaces for
gratuitous providence of flowering oases
Prudently forming each tribal alliance; deviously skirting
terms of compliance
Hearth covering from servile herd exacted; animistic
seams redacted
Burdened traveler in psychosomatic trance; by warming
flame, pyromantic
Each tenement provisioned by industrious wives; lofty
presentiment
Hospitality granted to imploring drifters; enmity shown
to extorting grifters
This is a spanking New Year,
A year to voyage with greed of peace and affinity.
Let not your mutable hate blind you from good
But be good to let your hate transmute into humane neighbourhood;
It is time to part ways with the dark forces now
It’s time to live free –
No human soul should mourn no more. No eyes
should be shedding any more tears.
All hearts ought nought be hefty of unjust racial animosity that
may lead to gratuitous xenophobic outbreaks no more too,
Or end up to a massacre of innocent blood that
would stain and defile the soil of our land sordid;
O Messiah, prithee, I do beseech thee!
Aid this nation of Africa to refrain from prejudice and
immorality. And teach them never to harm those who are
innocent for the deeds of others but to reconcile;
And to depart from wrong,
And to let bygones be bygones;
And teach them also to put paid to this obsession of calling their fellow
brothers and sisters from neighbouring countries makwerekwere . . .
A name that’s convenient enough to answer their whim.
Nor should they sacrifice their saintliness in order
to satisfy their vindictive blood thirst:
Instead, in this beautiful year shine’st thou the sun
at midnight…The sun that would perish and subdue the threat of
shameful grievances that might befall my nation once again.
And rain thou the rain that shall slay this futile nationalism which subsists within
the borders of Africa, and thus free the oppressed of their perpetual servitude,
So that they too can learn to trample down the moisture of
continental freedom –
And so help AFRICA be, for no one wills to flee.
In bridled hovel on denuded strand
Tanned damsel loiters on barter stand
Waiting for purloined fealty her title to brand
Festooned in ritual garb, decked with lavish garland
As noble peacock, her fecund colors are fanned
Waiting eligible suitors her utility, virility to scan
Her father a lofty price doth rightly command
To root out pilfering charlatan, worthless brigand
A reputable family with aspirations noble, grand
Bids for the honor of reticent, sheltered hand
Her elder for propriety doth initial offers withstand
Until the esteemed value of his ward family doth understand
A suitable piece of fertile lowland he indignantly demands
In order his tribal status and perpetuity to expand
With gratuitous stipend in token parlance panned
In customary deference, contrite bride accepts husband
“the most famous man who ever lived”
hollow is the story of “jesus”---
hollow
like the stamp with which it was printed,
hollow as these other mythical hero
archetypes,
which all bear a supernatural birth,
which all bear the hunting of said hero
as an infant, with an exciting & dramatic
subsequent getaway,
which all bear the entertaining magic tricks during
the hero’s youth,
which all bear the blind adoration, devotion &
worship that follows
when he is seen as “divine,”
only to be betrayed, executed &
for that big fat finale…
RESURRECTION!
(which all christians want to happen for them as well,
be it secretly or not)
and then, of course,
our hollowman gets
made into a martyr
for which history is supposed to
weep & remember,
weep & remember,
weep & remember.
to say that “jesus” was a man,
to say that he lived at all, that his life was in any way
original or authentic,
is to say the same of Osiris, Hercules, Baal, Attis, Adonis
& Asclepius (to name a few)
were all real people…
all who mr. “jesus” bears just a little more than
coincidental
liking to.
still, over 40% of americans
believe that “he” is going to return within the next 40
years---
this of course has nothing at all to do with
the relative age of those asked &
what their lil’ dreams are of getting to be on the
planet when “he” does, right?
(throat clearing)
having created a character of fiction,
one which can be mentioned to be
“the most famous man who ever lived,”
seems a bit gratuitous, doesn’t it?
but then again, those who believe it
are the same who believe that there is a
place that they can go
when they are dead &
they will get all the gold stars that they’ve been
earning
all the years that they have been alive---
opportunists,
opportunists,
opportunists,
who will create a “history” in order to
provide themselves an
out---
all so they can sleep at night.
Hi Everyone
I have been on the site a couple of weeks now and unfortunately it has not quite worked out
for me on a personal level. I would like to thank all the kind folk who have left me feedback.
I will be eternally grateful for all the nice comments and support that I have recieved during
my time here.
But... alas I feel too restricted.
There are 2 main reasons why I am leaving and they are as listed below:
1) The Profanity Rule is as far as I am concerned too restrictive for my creative juices to
flow properly. Sometimes a profanity is relevant to hit home a point. Not in a gratuitous way
but in a way that is relavant to the structure and the form of the write.
2) There are way too many GODBODS on this site. Constantly preaching at us through the
written word. I find the menatlity of these people completely unbelievable in this day and
age. They insult my intelligence with their lack of intelligence.
So .... There it is in a nutshell !!!
If anyone is interested in reading anymore of my work they can find me at HELLO POETRY.
It is a lovely site full of lovely people - Come on over - I'll introduce you to some real nice
folk who are really passionate about poetry. You won't be dissapointed !!!
Kind Regards
Bathsheba