Best Husbandry Poems
Before the stars were created,
there pulsar shined an infinity Light
in the primordial void
It shone soul supernova bright,
before the world ever was
Before this blue marble of green was made,
there moon glowed a celestial Son
Whose solar mercy was salvation poised
A Halo silhouette cast in the Genesis shade,
did cover every future confession
Blotting out sin-colored, Big Bang noise
The crimson wave blight
was preemptively cast out of sight
Before any blue wail was
In the evolutionary dawn of creation,
(that stellar parade of firmament praise)
Invisible parental eyes witnessed
the mirror image Light of perfection
No shadow of doubt existed
before the world was
Paradise tears were Eden formed
Adam and Eve naked fears
wouldn’t be the sunlit tilted norm
Maize inner darkness
(that bier hole in the bosom pale)
could have no purchase hiding place
to fallow tomb harvest
Only husbandry shining echoes were
cosmic background heard
Resurrection radiant words,
heavenly rooted in the revival future
Where bleating sounds now
graze Holy words undisturbed,
in luminance superb
After the old world was
candle light snub scrolled away
11-22-20
The rose that didn't
know herself a thing
of perennial beauty –
of vibrant color,
entrancing scent –
the long-time
study of bouquets,
of sentimental verses,
of flawless princesses
and jealous witch's
curses – a rose who
never grew to cherish
the blossoming of gifted
being –
never looked more deeply
beyond the shallow face
of a painful moment's dark
crystal, into the sacred heart
of a bejeweled core –
all life are forms of
buds and blossoms –
man's duty
learning the husbandry
of seeing
and respecting
each petal spent
a fertile encore
death a heartfelt finale
for tears and then applause
Watch me creep upon your virgin abode
without a husbandry humping request
to take what is mine from no/mo/mojoe months of
exsocietal solutiservititude of sexlessages unimpressed.
Finally, the the universaladity of our fauxphysicosexual spirits melding
into a one promiscus misspromise delegated by past powers
at be to a false fulminate the sexual prose prowess that we hide
in the nether neath of neutral neuder nuisances hopefully negating
turn raging torrent treasures into mystical monument molecular
memories into that never non-known nil complacent coiture of everpresent
For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge destitiute desires, drearily socialsoft
shifting freefall forever orgofaked fawned populace pleasures deso
designated by an eager ego-stential ergo everpresent freudian fliked flaked frail fixed feverent list of lost lucid loveless latent ladies and gential guised gilded gentlemen to go gonad gender hide a post penal predisposition to pissed off passionate penetration for the sake of wifeful wishes and mistress missed moments of heretofore hideous hiden and psuedo sexual seek/sought preluplentitudes to the other side of a risky/retro recreational ripe respite religiousness that alter states the sociosick
sanctioned **** covert severences, residue that fecal foments our current agast crestridge a----ffairs.
The TimWeiner takes all is fair in love and Warr-----anties;wishful textinking.
E X tendedness will costco create yr penalpussypoliticoplentypiousness. Third party poster plates plenititudes procrastinating???
Fair and balanced banalaties beliguered by biased bigot blogosites. Get Real and How love stinks?
Fields of France are filled with blood-red poppies
Where also bloom the lily-white crosses:
Each buried youth a seed, now bursting forth
Into a stark white cruciform flower:
Row upon row, rank after serried rank,
A spiky grid overlying acre
After acre in silent panoply,
Swan-mute as stillborns, yet shrieking their pain.
A century has failed to lay their griefs.
But such gardens aren’t anywise unique.
On every continent, in every age,
The fields are sown: and so among the trees
And forests, steppes and prairies, cities
And wastelands, the precious seed is planted,
The harvest bitter in its barrenness.
Instead of poppies, palms or rank lianes,
Brush or tundra, timber, sedge or seaweed
Grow where crosses never got to flower:
Even those gaunt reminders are missing
To give their witness to the seed thus sown,
The sacrifice and sacred blood there spent.
And so it goes: so it’s been since people
First appeared. And will go on: tomorrow
And the day after, still the sowing will
Continue. Perhaps someday our wisdom
And compassion may grow enough to wean
Us of this savage, mindless husbandry:
Today, it seems a thousand years away.
C*nt is the oldest word
the only word
for female genitalia
it also means cow
Every farmer knows
the cow means more
than an unborn calf
~The Insolent Rib
We urchins did survive
The cesspool of our streets.
Our joy at being alive
Depended on such treats
As husbandry can do.
In sounds of songs unsung
We learned this as we grew--
Flowers grow from dung
And ancient songs renew.
Via intellect, passion and creativity combine.
Talented dedication originates super stars’ shine.
Genuine genius discovers many great mysteries.
Songwriter poets harmonize synchronized words.
Painters and photographers traverse subjects’ allure.
Selfless fearlessness embodies a soldier sojourn.
Honor often desirable by mankind,
Cattle and bovine can achieve.
Cash and blue ribbons received.
Fruition of dreams hope conceived.
Gifted animal husbandry interweaved.
Dog shows and field trials
Pageants and talent shows –
Coveted titles for sports –
Successes by practice refined.
Academic achievements awarded
Cosmic accomplishments afforded.
Self-esteem transported soars!
Sublime humility.
Reputation enhances.
Honorificabilitudinitatibus
Pronunciation: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5SIKqOPIGt0
Definition: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Honorificabilitudinitatibus
Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: The "I Do Not Know" Poetry Form Contest
Sponsor Andrea Dietrich
'the sun has ascendant between us,
between two pinched,
that bow to each other;
love with the sun ascendant,
has red on our orgasmic ally
stem;
we are now like a shadow, thy
set, in the same continent;
but kiss the air husbandry.
Husbandry of the earth
is not a monogamous issue
it cannot be a polygamous thing
polyandry, it is not at all
try monogamy war spring up
attempt polygamy, mistrust rises
bring polyandry, rivalry embitters
self-interest husbands the earth
and earth is spouse of jealous men
men who hold spears and arrows
and dig trenches of war
as their share of interest
looks threatened
Destiny of earth as spouse
is ashes and charcoal
Built pondage on the river
To benefice farming and husbandry;
Fruitful sources of food for the villagers.
Right-minded under the Nature.
Any pondage has strengths and weaknesses.
The builder must prepare for its consequence
Pondage can retain the water
From rain or streams of the upper forest.
Pondage can delay the water,
But drainage must be built.
If not, the pondage will evoke problems:
The water will overflow, collapse the dam,
Flood houses and, farms and destroy livestock.
Build a pondage on the mass
Is to retain the people’s thinking,
Must also build suitable drainage.
Otherwise, the people’s needs will overflow.
Limiting men’s minds is breaking their hearts:
The dictatorial way!
I wonder what my dower would be
if he had not chosen life
A constable -in bag would be
the share - halved - without the choice
Would hold memories I suppose
but those we shared
so, bring me half he owned outright
Bring me secrets on a page
and space them - just so-
that such stuns at a time
could never awe me so
And in it - the design
for such a mystery
and show me confidence in a wife
which entitled him husbandry
"50 Words for Poe: Cerberus"
COME, Golden my night
Aristaeus thy husbandry
from the cracked honeycomb
of my broken broken
sleeps my dream
warm and tasted sweet
a token
Goddess
Apiarist
COME, walk in the immortal
of my heart where
bees grow from split carcass
bleeding life a New to drink from
in your hands my
body becomes a
territory strong
standing firm
conquered yet not defeated
COME, see the forests of my mind
where myrtle nymphs put dead Incubus to sleep
to transform his evanescence
fully fleshed into mortal adorned in robes
of royal purple, bronzed in the blaze of
Apollo’s sunset flaming
o’er my wet rain soaked bones
I pass him the Light to crown his head
dressed as King
to empower the charms
to loosen
even the hardest of the coldest
my Byzantine heart of cobalt made marble stone
COME, feel my Delilah heart beat
COME, feel my home
This for you Cerberus, most hated, standing before Hades shunned and feared so
3 heads to be tamed, become 1 heart with 1, n’ere forgotten n’ere alone,
1 to be loved
to be loved as 1
Gold in my Light becomes you dark son
Dark in my Light becomes your Gold sun
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
https://youtu.be/643bw5s_qI4
"Out of the eater, something to eat; out of the strong, something sweet"
https://youtu.be/WXU9lEaJBn4
“And after a time he returned to take her, and he turned aside to see the carcass of the lion: and, behold, there was a swarm of bees and honey in the carcass of the lion.”
Who decides what historical events adorn
textbooks students read,
hence a starry notion born
grew up while
this lumpenproletariat day dreaming,
Asian aw shucks husky
husbandry furrowed brow gritty farmer
barnstorming across
expansive fields of baby
(barely) barley corn
crib bed crop 'pon harvest time,
(an maize zing genre), especially
when enriched with humus
laden loamy muck cob bra,
then aye delightfully
trumpet from dehorn
of good 'n plenti kernel Sanders gave me
saluting rank and file fool's capped
fecund fashioned earthborn
dunce sing tassels,
versus growing seasons gone by,
when draught of ideas forlorn
despite futilely blowing on my flugelhorn
high and dry reap peat head paltry yield,
asper when this strapping chap
a sweaty backed greenhorn
pondering why agrarian laborious life of toil
omitted as part and parcel of "newsworthy"
posterity sagas deeming
shenanigans of highborn
and/or "FAKE" headlines crowd inborn
noble folks,
who grease palms of industrialists,
whose quaking self importance
thwarts aside rural cosseted
krummhorn grounded bumpkin mor'n
how kapellmeister coaches bourgeoisie
helping determine
zero absolute value of newborn
fated to slave away
till body electric outworn,
yet paradigm shift of
(butter late then ever)
jiffy popcorn version
sown by seeds of Jethro Tull,
whose bonhomie with brio didst reborn
agricultural revolution took root,
whence before long some did scorn
and lamented machinations
ordered simple existence ripped and torn,
where antithetical views suppressed
and unto revolutionaries
became legion and well-worn.
When will the olive tree be free,
its ancient roots,gnarled,twisted
earth-deep into its promised land,
stubbornly ignores its history;
With nectar,embittered and sour
the branches break off,with no bud
the unleafed tree provides no shade,
its verdant green,a dormant brown;
And yet the covenant remains,
the gardener and husbandry
daily engraft shoots with new life-
soon,will the olive tree,be free.
Fuller story at Romans 11
Circa April 17th, 2120, or 1820 military time,
yours truly attempted crafting id est feeble rhyme
far from madding crowd, nevertheless yet lovely
bones and flesh quite spry, still considered prime
(moost procreative, prodigious, and progressive)
stage, since (case ye didn't know) approximately
eight score orbitz round Earth's sun still noontime
chronologically analogous to protracted lunchtime
whereat the average offspring jetson or (daughter)
Born twenty years into twenty second century alive
and well (still hashtagged as precocious) with drive
to safely, sidestep, and surmount establishmentarian
archaic, formulaic, and mosaic Judaic/Christian give
wry master of words (me) take poetic license to jive
reasonably rhyming nope heart tickle early misthrive
moost definitely dirty deeds done dirt cheap (trick)
super tramping space cowboy lobbing power-drive
re: frequently innocent prelapsarian double entendre
(Jean Jacques Rousseau) Noble Savage he doth strive
even though hanky panky tinged entire his/her story,
Homo sapiens animal husbandry hastily did wive.