Best Magnate Poems


Premium Member Who Is Jack Schitt

WHO IS JACK SCHITT?

The lineage is finally revealed.
Many people are at a loss for a response when someone says,
"You don't know Jack Schitt."
Now you can intellectually handle the situation.
Jack is the only son of Awe Schitt and O. Schitt.
Awe Schitt, the fertilizer magnate married O. Schitt, the owner of Needeep N. Schitt Inc. They had one son, Jack.
In turn Jack Schitt married Noe Schitt and the deeply religious couple had 6 children: Holie Schitt, Fulla Schitt, Giva Schitt, Bull Schitt and the twins, Deap Schitt and Dip Schitt.
Against her parents objections, Deap Schitt married Dumb Schitt, a high school drop out.
After 15yrs. of marriage, Jack and Noe Schitt divorced. 
Noe Schitt later remarried Ted Sherlock and because her kids were living with them she wanted to keep her previous name. She was then known as Noe Schitt-Sherlock.
Meanwhile, Dip Schitt married Loda Schitt and they produced a son of nervous disposition, Chicken Schitt.
Two other of the 6 children, Fulla Schitt and Giva Schitt who were inseparable throughout childhood subsequently married the Happens brothers in a dual ceremony. The wedding announcement in the newspaper announced the Schitt-Happens wedding. The Schitt-Happens children were: Dawg, Byrd and Hoarse. Bull Schitt, the prodigal son, left home to tour the world and recently returned home from Italy with his new Italian  bride, Pisa Schitt.
So now when someone says, "You don't know Jack Schitt." , you can correct them because you most certainly do.

FAMILY HISTORY RECORDED BY CROCK O. SCHITT INC.
© Judy Ball  Create an image from this poem.

AIRPORT

They're selling off our Airport, does anybody care? 
The old Gazette's done nothing yet, no 'Save it' campaign there 
The Echo there in Darlo seems quite reluctant to 
Investigate the Peel Magnate and what they're pushing through 

We contacted the BBC to find out what they thought 
They built a reputation on injustices they've fought 
But Inside Out's done less than nowt, it all seems too much hassle 
Imagine the furore if it happened at Newcastle 

It seems our dithering councillors sold off the legacy 
Of half a million users, all done on the Q.T. 
Our MPs tell us nothing, and, quieter than a mouse 
Is the sinister young Minister of the Northern Poorhouse 

Freedom of Information's not easy to obtain
Rumours of secret deals done, we hear now and again
But calls fall on deaf ears, to them it's all a game 
Elected representatives should hang their heads in shame  

It looks like asset-stripping, part of the business creed 
As Peel dole out their reasons to mask their business need 
And those we chose to serve us must surely think we're blind 
I wonder who's being treated well, in my suspicious mind. CHING CHING.

We had a bustling airport, to us a little gem, 
But giving up our heritage means simply nowt to them, 
They're gonna build the factory sites and houses everywhere 
They're killing off our airport and no one seems to care. 
They're killing off our airport and no one seems to care. 

WATCH ME SING THIS IN CONCERT. YOUTUBE 
 'AIRPORT'  LOUIS SPENCE. Thank You

Moguls

Justice of a beautiful woman is that of a model.
She may just be a Christian whore.
In five inches high hills, she does the Catwalk.
Her asymmetrical body spins in Prada blend.
She smiles and saunters entertainingly.
She is powerful.
She is a mogul.
Justness of a handsome man is that of a beautiful model.
Even in his sexual identity, he does the catwalk.
In Berluti loafers, he strolls as just another beau in a fashion show.
The designers place him tersely.
He becomes a baller and shot caller in the fashion industry.
He is magnate.
He is dynast.
In the entertainment world, life meanders.
The portrait that is viewed is of a fashion model.
She gleams in sketch.
His sheen is imaged.
__________________________/
Penned May 21, 2014!


When Humans Are Inhumane

When war is all there is,
peace doesn't have a chance.
When soldiers are just pawns,
in his diabolical plan.
Who laughs at their suffering,
rejoicing in the game?
He's the tycoon of torment,
the king of pain.

When humans are inhumane,
inflicting torture and shame,
being pleasured by the insane.
Who is happy wounding souls,
who feels their loss is his gain?
He's the magnate of misery,
the king of pain.

When disaster strikes the innocent,
lives go down in flames.
Who hides behind God throwing stones,
slandering his holy Name?
Revelling in the game.
He's the baron of broken hearts,
the king of pain.

Know his name?

S ultan of suffering
A ffliction Emperor
T ycoon of Torment
A che King
N oxious substance

Now you know who is behind all the suffering in the world, the King of Pain!

John Derek Hamilton  November 18, 2015

Premium Member Cynosure

Cynosure

Umm..cynosure... what does that mean?
Oh yes, I see...something supreme.


Like dignitary, celeb, sight;
a focal point, or nucleus.
A stunner, prodigy, limelight,
a treasure, magnate, omphalos.

A hero, luminary, ace,
centrality, big gun, big name.
A famous person, worthy place,
or major leaguer of some fame.

A star, a personality;
a spotlight, center of it all.
Exemplar and epitome;
an archetype, original.

Top brass, top dog, a spectacle,
a wonderment or quintessence.
An act of God, a miracle;
immortal, beauty, eminence. 

Umm...cynosure...now understood.
To me, it means...superbly good.


Sandra M. Haight

~3rd Place~
Premiere Contest: Cynosure
Sponsor: Nayda Ivette Negron
Judged: 07/01/2016

Premium Member Villanelle: Those Whom the Gods Disdain Bloat Tough In Hubris

Villanelle : Those whom the gods disdain bloat tough in hubris

Those whom the gods disdain bloat tough in hubris
Vesuvius sank isle strung duckweed in Mid-Sea
Tectonic plates clash Zeus’ curse sinks Atlantis 

Tough talk across Atlantic makes Olympus hiss
Triumphant magnate tandem with pale Yin on knee
Those whom the gods disdain bloat tough in hubris

No Plato to lament holy Lost Angeles
Split through Grand Canyon guts out at New Jersey
Tectonic plates clash Zeus’ curse sinks Atlantis

Meru’s father stomachs no campaign mudsling blitz :
« Stop the la-di-da now or I’ll make you float free ! »
Those whom the gods disdain bloat tough in hubris

« Let Minerva win or I’ll split Oval Office ! 
I’ll not say it again : You’ll lose Land of Free ! »
Tectonic plates clash Zeus’ curse sinks Atlantis

No curse worse than what shatters Olympus bliss
« Come to your senses now : Trump card will make you flee ! »
Those whom the gods disdain bloat tough in hubris
Tectonic plates clash Zeus’ curse sinks Atlantis

© T. Wignesan – Paris,  2016
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.


Yesterday

What happened yesterday 
Can change  today. 
When a person understands
His" her" capacity 
He "she" can not see borders
To enter some world competitions 
Where racism and injustice
Are not principal choices. 

Power of beauty and wealth,  
Some  daughters of some poor in the Competition with some daughters 
Of some rich people.  
Yesterday when I saw you in miss universe,
I said,"wow!  Yeah, they  are there 
To show their beauties
As other races. " 
Participating in such 
Universal competition, 
It is not an easy task. 
From local competition to national, 
From National competition
To universal competition. 
To have a miss universe  title.

Yesterday,  
When I heard about  black American women
Who won  miss America and miss USA 
Another black african woman who won
Miss South Africa and miss universe. 
Their wins encouraged 
More black women in the world 
Who were discouraged 
By injustice, tribalism, 
Regionalism, 
Corruption and
Racism in some countries. 

Power of beauty and wealth, 
A beautiful woman that  a man saw yesterday 
Can stick in his mind for some years. 
Men  know what they want,
It is hard to change their choices. 
White man marry a beautiful black woman
 " or white woman" 
A black man marry a beautiful white woman
 " or black woman." 
Men like the beautiful flowers ...
 It is their nature.  
Beauty women are  like beautiful 
blue, black, red, rose, orange, yellow, 
white, khaki, chocolate, green flowers 
Every man has his favorite coulours. 

Power of beauty and wealth, 
The style of beautiful women of yesterday 
Differ to the style of beautiful  women of today 
But their attractions don't  change in the eyes of men. 
Beauty of a woman is 
A strongest  magnate 
Which attracts, 
And captures 
Millions of men 
But 
The wealth of a woman 
Is a silent 
Missile 
Which terrify trillions
Of world  men.
Majority men are arrogants and
They  hate to be dominated
 By any woman. 

This piece of poetry portraying  some truth, 
Naked truth about small matters with 
Some solutions. 
Majority  rich women of yesterday 
Were so  arrogants and
Those of these days 
are still very arrogants. 
Marriage of two arrogants... 
Man and woman
Can not last, 
Unless one of them bound. 

May 5/2023
Writting for contest sponsored by
 Constance la France 
Theme: YESTERDAY

Henry Iv: Prerogative and Piety

Enterprising Henry IV declares suzerainty over state
Xenophobic princes seek the royal prerogative to abate
Cautious king uses diplomacy, threats his minions to subjugate
Old rivals in Saxony Henry's consolidation with tyranny equate
Morose princes in the hinterland seek to avoid a similar fate
Manic King Henry sends his forces the opposition to eradicate
Unifying his kingdom, Henry dispatches puppets, builds forts his 
subjects to ingratiate
Nouveau Pope, Gregory VII, seeks his spiritual fiefdom to 
accentuate
Invoking ban on German King's power to bishops nominate
Calculating King refuses to cooperate with this diabolical dictate
Arrogant Pope responds to Henry's disobedience with a writ to 
excommunicate
Terrified, Henry performs penance to wipe clean the slate
Ecclesiastical mantra restored; Pope Gregory VII absolves the 
humbled magnate 
Demeaned but not demised, Henry continued to temporal, spiritual 
power appropriate

A Cynosure of Sadness

A Cynosure of Sadness

As gun has that sense of humour in the trigger,
It triggered my mind that I clouded darkness in your happiness with sadness,
Sadness that is brewed from failure to curb the vase of your love,
Sad that is being punctuated by disappointment that can't bend to your calls,
A gait of loneliness that widens by the open gate of my embarrassment
It is a cynosure of solace.

As magnate files out iron filings from chunks of dust,
Sadness attracts malice intent as it kills happiness,
Sadness embeds itself with deception lie and cheats,
Sadness that fathers hatred a bona fide it savour most,
It sads how love is neutralized in the bog of sadness,
It is a cynosure of sorrow.

A fail in raising the need for house graze fight,
Fight that has an eternal engagement with sadness,
A salt of sadness that blends well in perfect love and kills its soberness,
Halts not and give birth to somber of drunken sadness
It cyclone a clone of peace that can't digest, as it allows to be poisoned,
It is a cynosure of sadness.

Great Caesar's Ghost

Great Caesar's ghost,
Hail dictating despot!
Overlord of Rome,
His soul still roams,
Big Julie's the magnate,
His motto still rates,
"We ain't dead yet!" Great!
All hail dictating despot,
Hail, great Caesar's ghost!!!

Lover's Lullaby

MY LOVER’S LULLABY
Her song is of the night so sweet
Her feel is of a gentle breeze
A song that lifts lashes to freeze
O! My love your song make me glow
Your night fragrance makes me a watchman
Sleep my love sleep let your heart beat of me
Let your love pour out like breads bam
Your braid my night toy and I flow 

His song arouse my tenderness
His touch at night gives me freshness
O! My love you are my pomegranate
Your lips ah! Your chest is of magnate
How I die for you to live my love
Touch me and feed of me your dove
Love me as you‘ve always done
Hurry and tenderly before the day’s brightness

Let my love be your night light
My love I see you clear and bright
To you I sing an ever-loving ode
And your children are mine till old
He is my pride and diction
She is real and not a fiction
My love is her hymn and hum	
My touch is his dream and we zmmmmm

A Romantic Evening

Stew in the pot

Potatoes in the oven

It’s nearly six o’clock

The apartment looks like heaven


Flowers in place

Candle lights for two

Soft music on the radio

Of love we’ll sip its brew


The buzzer sounds inside of me

My heart beats to the door

There stands a beautiful woman

With a smile that I adore


Like a magnate pulls the clip

Our eyes locked in a stare

We kissed the kiss of Angels

And Deviled in the bed

Premium Member Villanelle: How Much Is How Near Enough and Yet Not Much

Villanelle: How much is how near enough and yet not much

How much is how near enough and yet not much
The measure of the cup is what the hand grabs
Must the common man pay the price or all go Dutch

Some take more than what is their share in one clutch
Most really take what comes trickling down for grabs
How much is how near enough and yet not much

Many such grow up never knowing what is much
Nor how the rich few make an art out of nabs
Must the common man pay the price or all go Dutch

Most make up the legions who for others march
Those who run the State run it for magnate flabs 
How much is how near enough and yet not much

Big fish eat shoals of small fish all in one munch
And the bigger they get all the smaller nags
Must the common man pay the price or all go Dutch

Yet everyone wants to dangle from the high hatch
E’en when there’s nothing much the Nation brags
How much is how near enough and yet not much
Must the common man pay the price or all go Dutch

(C) T. Wignesan - Paris, 2018
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.

The Indescribable Design

Coated with a salient magnate garment of white
The designs mimic her exalting name Rita
Such healing balm decorated round her face
Trying to rub it off should be added to your greatest mistakes
She is Divine
I call her mom
They call her the indescribable design
Magnificantly stronger than the man's race
What a man can do, a woman can do better
She made this an actuality form Nigeria to the world
She is incredible, incontestable, incomparable, incontrovertible, and indispensable
An incumbent of love
Pass me not
So beautiful, So gorgeous
Charming, alluring, bewitching, enticing
The notebook of mighty
Happy the eyes of plenty that see
Running on empty the ones that miss
She is my beloved on earth and above
What a PRODIGIOUS woman

Bad At Being Bad

In Birmingham I tried a scam,
involving some velvet and ham.
It appears I am damned.
Wound up in the slam.

I tried a hustle one night in Brussels.
But all I could rustle,
was just enough muscle,
to muster a bustle.

I tried an old con in Lebanon.
But pistols were drawn.
Had to play the moron.
Said I'd just been a pawn.

Attempted to fool some lads in Liverpool.
Though their first reaction was cool,
they set upon me with tools,
nearly smashed my crown jewels!

I went to Kuwait to impersonate,
a wealthy magnate, a friend of Bill Gates.
But at the customs gate, a guard got irate,
said, "Decide on which hand, I'll now amputate.".

Had a great plan, to sell guns to Iran.
Then a CIA man, with a barbeque tan,
said I'm not a big fan, of your really great plan.
Demanded I name, my middleman,
or take a one-way trip in his long black sedan.

Tried to rob a store in Singapore.
Asked the clerk for more.
Made him mighty sore.
I couldn't move before,
he had me on the floor, 
picked me up and tossed me out the door.

Went to Burbank to rob a bank.
I never thought to thank,
that a bank in Burbank,
would have the means to flank,
me with an M1 tank.

Kidnapped an heiress in the heart of Paris.
She never would desist,
with efforts to resist.
She had bats for fists
that hit like Roger Marris.

Soon I found myself in the house of correction.
Lots of time for reflection.
As a crook I was hardly perfection.
But for a crook there was another direction.
I'd run in the next election!
© Ken Page  Create an image from this poem.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace