Best Guido Poems
Poor old Guido Fawkes who was born up in York
fought in Spain, rebel flame there was lit
and though it is known as the 'eighty year's war'
when he came back he hadn't aged a bit.
With Wintour and Catesby , they all hatched a plot
to send all of our MP's to hell
and only Lord knows if
with all that explosive
with more luck it would have gone well.
Fawkes heard people coming
who were checking the plumbing, their footsteps were near ,
and much louder.
Instead of the rats and occasional cat, they found
several tons of gunpowder.
And trapped in the cellar that unlucky fellah
no chance of receiving a pardon,
midst the hot dogs and beer
is punished each year
on a bonfire in my neighbour's garden.
Categories:
guido, history, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
T’will be his death of this he's sure
But for this sin there is no cure
All John did was to stand on guard
Now his family name forever marred.
As a child trained in the Protestant faith
Too late he had now seen his wraith
Converted to Catholicism and fervent too
Knowing never more to see morning dew
He trembled, weak and so close to death
Afraid now to take his known last breath
His bowels loose his spirit lost
Forehead bowed, fingers crossed.
He could almost feel the horse and rope
But knowing he now had no hope
Confessed he did as Guido Fawkes
These step were to be the last he walks
His genitals cut and then to be roasted
Bowels and heart, next to be toasted
‘John’ then ‘Guido’ now known as Guy
Did not want this way to die
Through accident or was it his plan
He climbed the ladder with his hangman
Did he jump or was it a mistake
As he fell and his own neck did break
The legacy for this man Guy
An effigy to be strung up high
Set on fire every November fifth
With explosive fireworks lit forthwith
No child he left to bear his name
But Guy Fawkes still hangs onto fame
To blow King James of Scotland high
For this act of treason thirteen did die
© GG 3/12/2013
Contest Entry: Happy Holiday
Wraith …own ghost.
Categories:
guido, history, holiday,
Form:
Rhyme
Crickety china the Chinese chicken Where is the cheese dominoes The plumber Guido Hatzis, sorry for the stereotypes but you are on speaker phone Before you send the subpoena my name is John on the scene at the Telemarketer Crime Scene and I have your CLICK
Categories:
guido, fun, funny, hilarious, humor,
Form:
Free verse
On the 5th of November in 1605,
When the new religion of Protestantism was taking hold,
Political activist Guy Fawkes was arrested and executed,
For attempting to detonate Parliament for Catholicism old.
We burn the guy on a bonfire every year to commemorate,
That he was destroyed and not the centre for political activity,
The crux of legislation, set by hard, honest and tough debate,
By the people’s representatives who effect a stealthy integrity.
Guido Fawkes became Guy through his strength and prowess in war,
Over whether Spain’s government should uphold the catholic faith,
So denouncing Guy reinforces this wrongness of just one religious table,
And sedates our own tendency to informally become our own fable.
Guy Fawkes converted to Catholicism in his teenage years,
And fought to keep Spain catholic in the Eight Years War,
Then travelled to England where he met other like minds,
Who sought to reject the Calvinist future that was in store.
The group felt only effective if they were able to detonate,
The Houses of Parliament in a mammoth gunpowder plot,
‘Cos King James I was securing Elizabeth’s Protestantism,
Which by law through representation was not going to rot.
But one man of that group could not abide his conscience,
And in a letter told made the authorities aware of explosives,
That awaited ignition in a room under the House of Lords,
Enabling a gang arrest and the execution of the subversives.
Categories:
guido, anger, angst, anniversary, england,
Form:
Rhyme
As children, we admired our Guy:
An effigy of Guido Fawkes*
(A scarecrow destined for the flames).
‘A penny for the Guy,’ we pleaded.
An effigy of Guido Fawkes,
The Guy was burnt on top the fire.
‘A penny for the Guy,’ we pleaded,
As kindly people dropped some change.
The Guy was burnt on top the fire,
With fireworks the pennies bought
(As kindly people dropped some change -
A small sacrifice for Bonfire Night).
With fireworks the pennies bought,
A scarecrow’s destined for the flames:
A small sacrifice for Bonfire Night.
As children, we admired our Guy…
*a 17th century man executed for his part in the Gun-Powder Plot. Despite the grim origins, Bonfire Night is now just a fun event for kids on November 5th.
For Rhonda’s and Cyndi’s Penny Pantoum contest
Categories:
guido, childhood, people, people, ,
Form:
Pantoum
(the word (moll) means a mobsters wife or girlfriend)
I heard of a wiseguy named Guido
Who suffered a waning libido
His disgruntled moll
Made a quick call
Now Guido is incognito
Categories:
guido, death, funny, girlfriend-boyfriend,
Form:
Limerick
I miss you so much,
I wish I could go back in time,
Just to see u smile again,
Just for one last hug,
One last kiss.
Just to see you one last time.
I was too young when u died,
So I didn’t get to know you very well.
I wish I could have.
The only memories I have of you are when you were in pain.
In the hospital,
Ashamed of letting me see you like that.
But I was never ashamed.
I loved you,
And I still do!
You were such a happy man,
So everyone tells me,
But I just can’t remember!
I can’t remember your smile,
I can’t remember your laugh,
I can’t remember your happiness.
I miss you so much,
I just wish I could remember.
Maybe if I could,
The pain would go away.
The tears would soak into my skin and dry up.
Maybe the hole in my heart would even fill in.
If I could only remember.
I only have one regret in my life,
Not spending enough time with you,
Not giving you enough hugs,
Not getting to know you.
You are my only regret!
I miss you Guido,
Wish you were here!
Categories:
guido, death, family, loss, sadmiss
Form:
Joe was waiting, a'biden his time he needed
A vegetable? well almost' He was checking out
Different kinds, a man name of 'guido calabrese'
Looked a good option? if you please '
A blue ribbon judgement, to be offered to him
To get Hunter in Yale, he would have to sin!
All evidence would be kept safe, so to say'
The right combination, then hold and sway !
When it was sorted, all said and done.
Though hunter raised hell' he was his son!
Yes he snorted and courted, disaster; angst'
Yet their master was not to be stood up against
On the horns of dilemmas, opportunitys grew'
joe had ridden so many, more than he knew.
Oh so useful to have emergencies near
You could control coerce, instilling fear!
Division was sweet.! Indeed it was key
Just hold all the cards, and he'd stay
Scott tree !
Needs just must when the devil does drive
Categories:
guido, america, appreciation, betrayal, corruption,
Form:
Rhyme
We celebrate Guy Fawkes although he did not quite make the grade
I know and understand rebellion threatens thus he met his fate
Could have been worse he could have blown of his incendiary hand
Less body parts to torture in the name of country and King of the land
Guido as they called him fighting for the Spanish before his foiled plot
Was fully aware that he could be exterminated for an unsavoury complot
Can violence in the name of debatable justice be ever condoned
The masters of power today might agree when Syria is droned
Crusades in the name of some cause or other belie religion and creed
When money meets oil geopolitical persuasion derived from greed
Black powder in Guy’s case blew up in his fierce revolutionary face
Unlike Nelson an eye for a blind spot got him nothing but disgrace
Dark power gloved fists velvet resolutions and orange insurrections
Should of course release white peace doves from resolute minds’ disaffection
Nena’s 99 red balloons and Banksy’s street art reveal a powerful message
No doubt they beat anthrax in envelops and letter bombs sent by expressage
Yet Mandela in his armed struggle days was deemed a vile terrorist
Fought for the cause in despair but was labelled a mean criminal errorist
Suppose that leaves us with religion and Jesus crossed bleeding nailed
Whereas Guy stored explosives in Westminster’s undercroft with little avail
A white robed Ghandi marched for salt freedom justice peaceful opposition
Before him the Buddha sat quietly under a Bodhi tree for untroubled transition
Fawkes received victor’s punishment but is said to have fallen from the scaffold
Before being hanged broke his neck probably mocked the crowd that was baffled
Avoided the agony of the punitive rope before drawn and divided into four parts
Outsmarted the executioner retribution erratically broken in fits and starts
Few of us know the real story only shoot fireworks remember November the 5th
Blow money miss the pith dispense judgement in blessed ignorance forthwith
A lesson to be learnt from the historical legend some possible moral from treason
Is that words are superior to gun powder and it’s better to die for a right reason
Categories:
guido, conflict,
Form:
Rhyme
FAST EDDIE SPEAKS OUT IN THE RABBIT CAGE
Say, pass me that half-carrot, Guido, before I fall asleep with boredom.
Those lettuce leaves are tasty but, oh boy,
It would take a thousand to fill me, Guido my man.
OK, ears down, boys : here’s that dog again -
Don’t move or he’ll stay all morning.
Give him the old glassy-eyed stupid stare.
Hold still, hold the line, stay with me, stay with me ,
If we hold together we have a chance of survival. . . . . .
Aw, Eddie, you’ve been watchin’ too many re-runs of “Gladiator”
You’re startin’ to sound like Russell Crowe, ha ha ha. . . . . . . . .
Good, that four-legged urine-sniffer has gone after the cat.
Wow! Look at the fur-shine on that new doe.
Man, she gets my whiskers twitching all right.
Listen, Fast Eddie, you can look at the goods but don’t touch.
She’s new in the hutch and Minnesota Fats has his eye on her.
He’s one big buck to handle.
Yeah, well I ain’t scared, I coulda been a contender. . . . .
Eddie, you gotta stop watchin’ those movie re-runs.
That doe? Remember how old Black Legs and Pretty Boy with the grey eyes
Ended up as pies and sausage after “accidentally” falling into
The hot soup pan when Minnesota was nearby,
And that was just because they laughed at his nose-twitch.
Listen Guido, I can take him I tell ya, and then I’ll be the man,
Then all the dough will belong to this big buck. . . . .
Don’t you get it, Guido, “dough” and “doe”. . . . ?
Fast Eddie, the only “Doh” I’m gonna hear is the Homer “Doh”
Cos here comes Minnesota now. Quick, offer him your carrot.
Mornin’ Fat Man, wanna chew my carrot? Go ahead, make my day, ha ha
Man your fur sure is shiny, Minnesota, wish I could get mine like that.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Written for Miranda Lambert's Contest BEHIND BARS BLUES
Categories:
guido, animals, funnyold, me, old,
Form:
Prose Poetry
The therapist became her endless shame.
A married man with children still at home,
Too soon began to play the cheating game.
Just like before his lust began to roam.
Her shattered life was scattered like sea foam.
And childhood dreams of love were sent awry.
When passion melted souls in endless heat.
Realities met dreamland in the sky.
Unspoken truth became his hidden lie.
Her screaming soul in silence lost the match.
Forever found its hope in every sigh.
Until the day sweet lovely did detach.
He dare not leave his wife for even her.
Their lot in life was scarred by passion’s burr.
© February 19, 2011
Dane Smith-Johnsen
Written for The Spenserian Sonnet Contest
Sponsored by: Dr.Ram Mehta
Categories:
guido, lost lovelife, , sweet
Form:
Sonnet
Guido was the keynote king
Using words from Paulus hymn,
To teach his pupils ..how to sing-
Doh,re,mi,fa,sol,la,ti,doh
Onward & upward it can go !
Tribute to Guido Aretino
Inspired by Izzy's contest
Categories:
guido, music, people
Form:
Narrative
(In the summer of 1960, filming began on
"The Misfits". Shot on location in the Nevada
desert, the picture was enveloped in a weird
atmosphere of doom from start to finish. For
the three stars - Marilyn Monroe, Clark Gable
and Montgomery Clift - it would be the last
film they ever completed.)
Desert Hearts
What do you think of this?
A motion picture, wrought
in a wilderness, about a woman
loved by Gay, Guido, Arthur, Perce,
a woman who draws men
as thoughtlessly as breathing,
but whose beauty is her curse.
And what of three wranglers,
in the drum of the washing machine,
who live for chasing mustangs -
the dwindling mustangs,
whose fate is to be slaughtered
as food for dogs,
and whose destruction
draws nearer each time
they are chased?
Come with me to Reno,
the town with no water,
the zone of single strangers.
Meet five doomed characters,
moving through a slow gavotte
one deadly summer,
dancing on the spot
finding out anew what
they've really always known: how
to have and have not.
Categories:
guido,
Form:
Free verse
The bricks were sweating, nervous. Icy slime
had soaked his coat-sleeve, much to his disgust.
Tall baulks of formless timber seemed to climb
towards the bulbous shadows. Guido, trussed
and pinioned, tried to scratch the saline rime
that nagged his upper lip (for scratch he must),
using his shoulder. Someone’s hand-held lamp
was scouring crazy patterns on the damp.
As Fisc officials fidgeted and fussed,
Count Guido, motionless, gouged free of Time,
stared at the torture implements. Nonplussed,
unravelled, unaware of glare or grime,
he saw steel jaws, unsoftened by stale dust.
The hanging chains, when brushed, gave up a chime
as sinister as that serrated clamp
which dominated all the waiting ramp.
The irony was utterly sublime.
They’ll “put him to the question”, as discussed.
As fitted the prevailing paradigm,
They’d tear his vitals, gouge him, drill him, thrust
their white-hot spikes quite through him, till his crime
was suitably admitted, as was “just”.
Some may withstand the pincers’ chew and champ,
but Guido knew he wasn’t of that stamp.
His eyes had hardly started to adjust.
Prolonging this perverted pantomime
would only satisfy the sadists’ lust.
If necessary, he’d recant in rhyme.
His knuckles scraped the carapace of rust
of some utensil, which this fetid clime
so soon engendered. Turning to decamp,
he felt no pain beyond necrotic cramp.
Categories:
guido, history,
Form:
Ottava rima
Method to the madness?
I think so,
You play a vindictive game with my mind
Trying to make me weak,
Wanting me to breakdown
I refuse,
I refuse to satisfy your five year old mind
Try to change me
I have news
This is the real world
For you
I am adversity
For you
I am opposition
Don’t like confrontation?
Don’t feed the fire of rage which builds inside me
Blood boiling internally
Feeling like a fresh pot of stew
Tipping over
Over the brim
Just to share I may burn you
I want to burn the skin of your aged face
So it evaporates leaving the rank smell of decay
And deceased flesh
Don’t test me sweetheart
I’ve walked this line many a time but I have grown
And I have matured
So I refuse
I refuse to scathe you
To rip you
To tear you
Like I so terribly want to
Give me my guido ring and let me imprint it on your forehead
You’ve crossed the lines too many times
And now you’re do
Though all is well
You have severity over me
You are by definition ‘crazy’
Your disrespect fills me with rage,
Like you’ve spat,
You’ve spat,
On my face
You just need to learn to deal
To keep to yourself and find a way to heal
For you I wish the best
Because I am consoled by the fact that when you die
My heart will still beat.
Categories:
guido, angst, introspection, life, people,
Form:
Free verse