Best Laymen Poems
"Escalating the Muse"
Written on the body
passive complacence
stretches sharp ink
etched pain in the soul
then real beauty
from the
Book of Truth,
a page moored
in transparent skin
;
Black,
tattooed ceremonially
on the tongue
speaks diaphonous
Freedom
Written on the body
stretches stories ripped
and tall, they are torn,
a small revolution
amongst the crowds of
alphabet coding
in a tight sealed tin
akin to a
Can of Campbell’s Soup
Escalates the
Muse
Written in the body
a work of art, beautiful,
pure and stubborn centred,
dirt muddied yet,
clean stripped,
balanced for the
Laymen betwixt
Papillon
folded Wings,
en stasis,
looks through the Chrysalis
towards the you in gilded story
the Higher requires analyses,
there She thinks,
writes the Muse
tattooed on the tongue
Words
projecting Muse to
Escalation
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
llb/gvlm
for my daughter,
Georgia
;
"LUX VITAE"
"Brûle-moi" / Jean-Louis Murat
https://youtu.be/M6l_sQQ8lS0
"Distractions" / Zero 7
https://youtu.be/6ng6IKp8uao
"What New York Couples Fight About" / Morcheeba
https://youtu.be/RUE0J2UvThM
"Golden Years" / Bowie
https://youtu.be/JUuRGRcY9O0
Battement de coeur dans
;
Battement de coeur vers l'extérieur
Categories:
laymen, muse, truth, writing,
Form:
Free verse
Innocent child,
wake up from your rainbow colored dreams,
listen to the red feathered rooster,
it crows the early dawn's burden,
hang on me,
dance along with the swaying golden weeds
among the fields of corn,
watch the trees of blue and gray,
follow me on the dikes of rice fields of amber green,
look at the scarecrow,
it looks like death,
open up your eyes to the sad realities,
the common farmer of tattered clothes,
his pockets filled with mud,
he is a prisoner of a violent semi-feudalism,
with hands wrapped in callous,
bleeding while tilling the bone-dry land,
he works like a slave for his landlord.
Little child,
even the plain smells with fog,
moistened leaves keep on falling over your head,
but never close your eyes,
do not be scared to see the toiling man's stomach,
it has been empty for ages,
he is nailed on the cross of ferocious poverty,
dying,
suffering,
yet our politicians live in luxury,
do nothing but to corrupt for eternal power,
they keep on pretending as common farmer's saviors,
but they are actually scarecrows,
the angels of death,
do not trust even you admire them with sugar-coated words,
sooner they will give you the worst blow.
sweet child,
open up your mind to the relentless cruelties of this world,
the common farmer's skin is burning,
still toiling under the hell of the sun,
sweating with blood,
and his eyes are flowing with tears of agony,
yet the government does nothing to give him a decent life,
he goes to church every sunday morning,
confessing everything about liberation,
asking for freedom from the madness of hunger,
but he realizes not,
people around him,
including laymen,
also are victims of brutal political corruption.
Categories:
laymen, betrayal,
Form:
Ballad
To love Physics one just has to care
For the universe heart described there,
Relativity's Laws
Are much like Santa Claus,
Einstein's Tensors just floating on air.
Brian Johnston
August 22, 2014
Poet's Notes:
Just one hundred years ago this poem would have had a different ending...
Newton's Vectors just floating on air.
Post Einstein however things are both simpler and more complicated as physicists
struggle to come up with an equation that describes everything! To help laymen
perhaps just a little, a 'Vector' is a mathematical expression for a force that has a
direction (in three dimensions). A Tensor, though it is hard if not impossible to
imagine except by means of a mathematical expression (a physicist cannot see it in
his mind either) , can be thought of as a multi-dimensional Vector that can occupy
more than three dimensions. Hope that helps! Ha! It seems that God's simplicity is
not that simple for man! Who would have guessed?
Categories:
laymen, science, universe,
Form:
Rhyme
Notes:
I was listening to some music, by a famous singer, about this story, can any guess the song?
I find it interesting in light of what is happening now in the middle east, that
If people would only learn from history, thus I liked the quote below attributed to Saladin
Victory Is Changing the Hearts of Your Opponents by Gentleness and
Kindness."- Saladin
Croisades – French for Crusades
Although some historians paint Saladin as a kind and compassionate man, he
was afterall a man who attacked and conquered many peoples.
Balian of Ibelin c. 1143 – 1193) was an important Frankish noble in
the crusader Kingdom of Jerusalem in the 12th century.
The Council of Clermont was a mixed synod of ecclesiastics and laymen
of the Catholic Church, which was held from November 18 to
November 28, 1095 at Clermont, France. Pope Urban II's speech on
November 27 was the starting point of the First Crusade.
From then on, he ordered prayers in all the mosques of Syria and Egypt as
the sovereign king and he issued at the Cairo mint gold coins bearing his
official title—al-Malik an-Nasir Yusuf Ayyub, ala ghaya "the King Strong
to Aid, Joseph son of Job; exalted be the standard." The Abbasid caliph
in Baghdad graciously welcomed Saladin's assumption of power and
declared him "Sultan of Egypt and Syria."
Categories:
laymen, history,
Form:
Light Verse
Three lying deacons
swim in a handbag -
and a lone, celibate pastor
paces longingly bemused.
Michael, the Arc Angel,
poses silently,
in dusty Gabbana drag,
cursing the lipstick-painted laymen
writhing in rancid attar -
naked
and intentionally
unused.
Four wide-eyed boys
dance on a daydream –
kissing ripped posters
of a white collared rapist.
Saint Peter understands
the jovial jokesters -
the foolishness
when blackened specks darken the void;
the flurried flutter of his eyelids
casts a tainted shadow
upon a fractured sexual ballet.
They continue to kiss
below the waist.
Three lying deacons
and a pacing pastor resides –
five lip-smacking nurses
massaging your head.
Four wide-eyed boys
caress your knuckles
as the well-trimmed priest
pronounces
a poorly
scented infant:
"anally dead."
Seven cardinal sins
slip and divide
into 3 venial ratios.
"Hi, Sonny"...
Greed, lust and vanity
are mortal crimes;
Father Fragrantly Fresh...
quietly proclaims:
"snuggle a bit closer and
sniff a hint of Genesis."
Say I’m to blame
and cause-count the afflictions –
smaller undetected lumps
hump the jaded addictions
brain dead and haughty –
the zombies
circle and laugh!
I wasn't born in a dark discarded
Parisian tunnel but -
can you Roman Polanski me,
please?
Kill the poet...
and make him pay -
below the waist.
Crushed words embody
a forgotten loner’s
epitaph!
(force him to stutter stupidly)
and within a last breath -
and within a last breath -
and within a last breath -
GOD...
"the string-strangled
puppet
conventionally chokes -
and quietly succumbs
(to a textured landscape)
of a youthful
silenced dying...
...swaddled
and swallowed
in a heavenly -
haloed chosen
death..."
Categories:
laymen, introspection
Form:
Free verse
It's early November '91,
and I quite can't remember,
ever,
feeling this humbled, seeing
Magic stumble,
off his shiny crown,
and the little boy
Who once glared at 32,
fixated by a dribbling
Rhythm, so compulsive,
so majestic,
so unattainable,
by his own standards,
that he had no choice,
but to glare,
It's different now,
A leather cacophony,
dribbling dissonance,
laymen lay-ups,
Leading us to believe
it was a mere illusion,
but I believed in Magic.
(1/22/92)
Categories:
laymen, basketball, celebrity, hero, how
Form:
Free verse
river. gold
liquidcopper sheen & skypulp
mashed upon fatrocked banks
refracted beams;
reflections.
The kid squeal.
The rowers chirp "hello"
[multiple oar-chasm] we bridge it
with a languid arm-sigh tooing, no fro. Yes,
the 20th century is over,
and the "Water-Noodle"
has arrived.
Time works different out here.
The national spine
doesn't belong
to a book. No. Hold land
in check,
meaty planes
sewed onto bone.
Through the
geothermal corridors
where karadji's file into rooms
discussing the hunt
laymen like me
listen in
on dragonfly wings.
Cherubs
land.... "Mum, you're an old fart!"
snorty laughs
splashy goodness
erections stay
low. Kookaburras
slot into. Their laugh
lingers like a
splinter in my throat
and I don't follow.
Family's an ascending arc
orbiting
this chubby orphan
(he is all sickle,
shaped like a question mark.)
Re-arrangements.
"I want to see if the wombat's home!"
He's a dad alright, his salt 'n' pepper laugh more convincing
than George Clooney. Paper grows inside us
in wet reams.
It's all an odd proud thing, this lick of space.
The noise retreats, my heady sight dangles. Dizzy
eyeball flesh in quicksand vaguely mired.
A bordered scene:
a symmety of Mates bathing in
coy homophobia
their gargantuan cocks
reaching so far
to touch each other! Forbidden
to break the old pattern.
This goldpan face persists. Is life a Saturation?
Moist is good I like moist. Hairline dwellers
polite oracles.
My feet naked next
to cigarette butts & weed
the tethering of a slight libido
a moist amulet hangs like a beard;
sophisticated mist from the muddy cauldron.
Copyright. 2009.
Categories:
laymen, animals, family, father, happiness,
Form:
Arriving from unknown somewhere
He set up clinic in the market square
Declared he could cure any disease
Using herbal drugs of plants and trees
Townsfolk being credulous
Soon to his shop began to rush
Diabetics, rheumatics, asthmatics flooded
None over his degree brooded
A few weeks later, afloat was this rumor
He cures for he rightly detects the humor
Realizing that every client is a prospective fan
He talked in technical terms even with laymen
He would expose his victims to numerous medical terms
Also trade-names, contents, firms, diseases and germs
Just to exhibit erudition and sound philosophy
Without occasion he embarked on learned topics
Often dwelt on sedatives and epilepsy
Or discoursed at length on tumor and biopsy
Then in a torrent of rodomontade would relate
Histories of cases cured with specific names and date
Discourses full of references to Ayurvedic treatises
Madhav, Charak, Susrut and other varieties
To prove his point he recited aloud original excerpts
As a result ,he soon won the epithet: "expert of experts"
"Discourteous ingrates! They even do not thank
Though I give 'em new life" exclaimed the mountebank.
Always eager to spar against allopathy
At the slightest provocation he would lecture on allopathic hazards
Or would lament on untidy hospitals and unhygienic wards
Boldly averring: "To hide anything from patients is a deadly sin"
Within no time he became a celebrity
His tricks worked and brought him publicity
After a year DHO came to see him in person
And sought his counsel for his sick son
A minister's car at his doorstep halted
Just to enhance libido and weakness treated
He gave the minister powerful mercury dust
Which triggered his vigor and inflamed his lust
Then to CM's ears reached his fragrant fame
Who called him secretly telling him not to declare name
MPs in turn heard of this rare phenomenon
And turned up to consult him one by one
Director drug control came to seek his advice
For chronic dysentery and perennial bronchitis
At length PM had to send him his compliments
For service to nation and" particular "patients
The whole world acknowledged him as master of his craft
But a person knew his truth in his own staff
His compounder knew his master was a fake
But he swallowed the secret for heaven's sake
Categories:
laymen, imagination, inspirational, introspection, drug,
Form:
Heroic Couplet
The helmsman sings a merry song:
Haec est vera fraternas,
and downs a cup of something strong,
Hick, vera, hick, hick, fraternas.
The sailors dance a lusty jig,
forsaking sails, crow's nest and rig.
Young princes and their ladies fair
join in the drunken helmsman's air:
Haec est vera fraternas.
Commoners with nobles prance.
Friars and laymen, how they dance!
The jester sports a broken lance,
a trophy from the fields of France.
"To Henry!" sounds the raucous toast.
Hear the young knights, how they boast
of conquests on and off the field,
when foemen or coy maidens yield.
While Fitzroy strokes a wench's leg,
the boatswain opes yet one more keg.
See their chains of gleaming gold,
but feel the wind grown strangely cold.
William the atheling alone,
to the marrow of each bone
feels what sorrows must atone
for the sins of court and throne.
Woe to the ship, woe to the realm,
where none is mindful of the helm.
Woe to the king who ne'er shall smile,
woe to those bereft of child.
Gone is that day and gone that night,
gone that ship so ghostly white,
gone the prince who bravely sought
to save his sister, deed ill bought!
If, one night by Barfleur's shore,
you may hear that song once more:
Haec est vera fraternas,
et haec est aeternitas.
Categories:
laymen, autumn, brother, death, song,
Form:
Ballad
THE POETIC REEDEMER…
To my fellow colleagues.
Devout, aspiring.
With wise words of great magnitude
Sent forth, I speak my mind
I built barricades, lest you leave this behind
The masses no longer relate
Poetic contributions seem not to favour the laymen of late
Food for thought…
I thought poetry was not for the extra-ordinary
Henceforth, the art i wrote
Divide and subdivide
I took a vow to unite the masses with poetry in one glide
The poetic redeemer.
Self-made pioneer.
In the shadows I perfected my art
In emergence I’ve awaken to play my part
To share, be and become
I retraced the footsteps of legends still yet to come
An elite visionary
That which is defined as my blood-type
Undefined specie sent forth to conquer.
In this profession made to prosper.
The mind opener
I see poetic visions from my third eye
The poetic redeemer…
Inscribed twice to leave a mark in the sands of time
Categories:
laymen, devotion, leadership, poets, tribute,
Form:
Enclosed Rhyme
This day shall be in remembrance of all the lost souls.
Each one remembered proudly on every flag pole.
This day shall be in remembrance to the fire fighters and all the crews.
Who rushed in giving up their lives, knowing what they knew.
This day shall be in remembrance to each soldier who followed their course.
The Army, Navy, Marines and the Airforce.
This day shall be in remembrance to all the brave and willing strangers.
Who came together to help and comfort, not knowing the dangers.
This day shall be in remembrance to the brave policemen and women.
Who came and worked side by side with with other laymen.
This year shall be in remembrance to all the who gave to the oppressed laden with hardship.
Whether it be a stranger or simply a friendship.
This date shall be forever etched in our hearts and in history.
Let freedom reign, the eagle will soar with such gallantry.
In reverence of 9/11, I kneel to pray...
As I write this, each tear falling don't come close to all who was lost that day.
Each year passing, shall be in remembrance to the brave red, white and blue.
That we came back stronger, braver and always renewed.
Categories:
laymen, dedication, devotion, education, faith,
Form:
Ode
Experts know how to
tickle properly, while most
laymen mistickle.
Categories:
laymen, funny,
Form:
Haiku
To The Nexted Blog....
About Exxon...
Stressed Long...
Like Withering Latches...
Is'nt She Magic...
Instantly Passion...
Attaches...
To This...
Fluid...Movement...
Of Dellusive Music....
Changes Truth...
Like The Anchient Roots...
We're All The Same...
Players In This Common Game...
Where Everyone Tries To Stop The Pain...
Constant Rain...
Leave's Me Lost Again...
Like My Indotoxins Starined...
I'm Adoptin Stains...
From The Profits Fame...
Ohnest Plaiges...
Take This Modest Stage...
I Find My Self On...
Standing Alone...
Commanding The Clones...
Of Agony Jones...
Actually Home...
Is A Falicy...
Of Reality...
Witch Is A Lie To Me...
Due To The People We Try To Be...
I'm Flying Free...
Like The Dying Tree....
I'm Dried, From The Lack Of Hydration...
Like Laymen...
Makin...
The Foundation...
Of This Ground Shakin...
From What We've Found Layin...
In The Towns Wasted...
Mortality..
To Build More Factories...
And Currupted Corperations...
Abducted Former Masons...
And Became What You've Become...
Just Another Uselss Bum...
Use-in Rum...
Who's Confused And Dumb...
Playing Life's Rhythem To The Ruin'd Drumb...
Categories:
laymen, life
Form:
Rhyme
Pensive in death’s silence
my mind’s eye searching
for answers never revealed
by mortal form --
An advanced soul
encouraged by the moon
& the cross unseen
my essence wishing
to crawl in a world
of laymen
Being exceptional
is unacceptable
In a dome of questions
With answers
Not --
Living in a sacred slumber
I awake again to sleep . . .
Categories:
laymen, death, hope, introspection
Form:
Free verse
Dangling and tangling in pain
Blood blowing, chest in vain
Beneath a plant falling apart
Looking for my stolen heart
Lonely living I am alone
Then I feel, then I hear, then I behold
Voice of Bird from flower bone
As if a Bird, liken woman, liken not
A human, but an angel O
Head I nod of a wonder note
"A Cuckoo liken a woman curl!
A nightingale, or a Cuckoogirl!!"
Do you know what? Then she go
Flying above, I follow her, then I told;
No an inch I will give to thee
Stopping not, you I see, liken my love
What do laymen, know of my dove???
Of fervent face, its face, I trace
I gap, I gape, liken a woman face
Flying above the more I see
The more I see moon in her
Close she becomes when I stop
But when I close, her to the top
Up she goes- very far-
Deep I go, deep she goes, with my ink
And a blood, what do all think?
Of her wing, Poetry Book
Crimson cover like crimson lips
Made, of rose, and cotton tips
Behold her lips I and look
Controlling them, liken "Salam
Slim boy, sweet, simple still
I'm not a thief, how can I steal?"
Then she goes, too I lam
What a bird with a woman life!
Yes a woman, but a woman of a rare type
Rare school, rare class, rare feature
Lively past, lively front, lively future
Flying bird, said is not a thief
The more I go, the more she lift
Now it is at heaven door
Woman I see outdoor
Holistic, liken Hurul Ein
Close she comes to take me in
As I stop full of doubt, hands she gets
And catches mine, beneath her chest
Places them, then she asked
What do I feel? "A heart beat" I marked
So stab my jaw, she, a frowning lead
On her face, then she said;
"That's a heart of a stolen boy
And all of him, now become my joy
As become my joy, love me more
Stealing you become, my core"
Categories:
laymen, bird, boy, child, cute
Form:
Ballad