Best Manoeuvres Poems
“What are we when we are not...?”
MAN: A malevolent master making mountains of a mindless mass...
A meaningless magician motionlessly manipulating many minds...
A mating monster majestically magnifying materialistic manoeuvres...
A Machiavellian macho muscular merciless mentor...
A mutilating medieval malicious menacing Minotaur...
A mesmerizing metamorphic methodical maniac...
Woman: A whimsical weeping wacky wasted wanderer...
A whiny weaponed weathered wedded wife...
A wicked whiskey wasteful wiggly wench...
A wintry whiplash winded wrathful wroth...
A worried weary wishful wispy wild wire...
A wretched wormy woeful wounding wolf...
March.01.2016 ^WW^ Nothing personal...lol
Ebony and ivory, noted for sound,
Digital playback, sleight of hand.
Songsters echo, vibrant pound,
Upright, organ, cottage, grand.
Strings attached, taut with suspense,
The Master Key hammers home
Letters of note; chords of tense,
Past and present; timed metronome.
Naturally played with flat and sharp
Sweeping the board. Ayre of nonchalance.
Orchestral manoeuvres performed with harp
Brass and wind; counter balance.
Peddled depression, ayer lingers on
Distant wave; caressed...pianissimo.
Emotive conductor, under the baton
Chorused voice harks, keyed to the piano.
Masters of flight,
Marvel of sights
Flying in from all over Europe,
Asia, Africa and America
Hovering and performing sharp manoeuvres
With successful acrobatic flights
And their wings constantly changing shape
The flap of their wings,
The envy of aviators
Believe it! The airplane is no match for them
As they stay airborne through wind gusts, rain and snow
Flying without a map
Following no prescribed path
They come in their thousands
Beautifully dressed for dinner
Very distinguished with their white heads
And showy white tails
Feathers fanned out for braking as they land
Masters of flight
Marvel of sight
Majestic soaring eagles
Finally, my little girl is sound asleep
after multiple bedtime stories, I plea that she will not make a peep.
Hugging her favourite teddy bear ever so close
the blissful sight is as precious and delicate as a blossoming rose.
The soft murmurs of her magical breath console me.
At last, I can rest upon my alluring bed where I long to be.
Pleasurably my heavy head allows itself to fall,
every muscle in my body relaxes and my eyes begin to flutter as I stare at the wall.
All are contently safe and sound fast asleep,
unfortunately, this blissful peace shall not keep.
A spine chilling creek sends a booming echo throughout the hall,
my eyes flicker open while my mind wakes itself up to protect my all.
The distasteful racket continues to speed up my heartbeat,
distressed I grab a flashlight refusing painful utter defeat.
The flashlight sends a ray of a saviour into the pitch black hallway,
my sleep deprived eyes focus on the bright figure in dismay.
The sweet little angel before me moves forward using unimaginable stealth,
still softly snoring and babbling sweet nothings to herself.
I stare in amazement as she manoeuvres about the house with ease,
with loving open arms reached out in case she falls to my displease.
With little direction, my little star is directed back to her bed
where she shall have the dearest dreams play out in her head.
For the rest of the night, I lay awake longing to hear her creek,
constantly tiptoeing into her room to get a reassuring peek.
The sun eventually rises along with a bright smiling face,
she asks me how she slept and I pull her in for a tight embrace.
July 26, 2018
Sleepwalking Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John Hamilton
5th Place
THE SWING (by Jean-Honoré Fragonard)
I swing high up in the air,
Dressed with opulence and flair,
Smiling down at my lover,
Who's glad to nearby hover,
He takes his hat in his hand,
Pointing towards my dress grand,
My left shoe, I gaily fling,
Seated above in the swing,
The 'putti' watch with envy,
As I swing under the tree,
My dog, Whitie, barks with joy,
Adventure flight, I enjoy,
Uncle manoeuvres the swing,
As I fly skywards and cling,
It's a perfect day for smiles,
Swinging high up miles and miles.
11th Feb 2023
Limerick : Once slick Senorita from Sevilla – 6
Once slick Senorita from Sevilla
Watched proud Toro shamed by faena*
So she lured Picador
Behind her unlocked door
And gored him till he split on his Pica.
• faena : the manœuvres with the cape
the toro is subjected to by the matador
after the maiming of the magnificent beast
by the picador
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
DESTINY CALLS
Rising higher and higher the warplane climbs
through the hazy sky, sun reflecting off the distant water
far below through a gap in the clouds.
Missiles hang under delta wings
ready for instant launch when an enemy
is spotted across the distant sky.
An inhuman machine with the looks of a goddess
and the power of a god, this is a thing of mans own creation
yet almost with a life of its own and an electronic soul.
Radar eyes see a hundred miles and infrared sensors scan
the icy cold sky, fuel drinking engines push Mach2 forth
onward and upwards to the battle area, the whole sky.
Night falls and stars glint like diamonds on black velvet,
light years distant. A faint glimpse on the radar,
a skin paint tens of miles distant, missile seekers focus
a needle of energy. Enough!
A white incandescent light and a whoosh of flame
and the missile is on the way, out of sight in seconds,
a faint glow dimming. In an enemy cockpit a similar scene
is being played out in this high tech duel of chess.
Rapid manoeuvres to defeat the devil’s missile
and maybe a chance to meet him if you fail.
As g-forces crush you and the stars go vertical
do you think of your wife or pray you can win
this dangerous battle where you are meant to be the best?
War in the air, ruthless and utterly cold blooded
eight miles above the earth.
Newly cut grass
Fresh fragrance;
A scented dawn
~~~~~~~~~
Plumeria sunrise
Yellow and red;
Abundance flowers
~~~~~~~~~
Daylight springs
Sharp streams blazing;
No more darkness
~~~~~~~~~
Strange winding path
Etchings of patient feet;
Lost round the bend
~~~~~~~~~
Daybreak
Blurry eyes dart;
Suddenly aware
~~~~~~~~~
Time and space greet
The morning sunrise;
Promising agenda
~~~~~~~~~
Joy calls my name
In birdsong whispers;
A smile glides
~~~~~~~~~
Coffee brew signals
Day time manoeuvres;
Awareness ingests
~~~~~~~~~
Talk of weather
Dark clouds hover;
Umbrella panorama
~~~~~~~~~
Morning deluge
Work day commotions;
Another day screams
~~~~~~~~~
Zen garden stroll
Anchor mindful feelings;
Icy air draught
~~~~~~~~~
Frangipani tree
Old and autumnal;
Mellow motions
~~~~~~~~~
Traffic congestion
City bound people;
Precise distractions
~~~~~~~~~
Somnolence lingers
Awareness seeps slowly;
Awakening blots
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
09 May 2015
Singapore
A bird that eats the wheat discouraging the farmer,
The worm swallowed by a lizard,
A butterfly soaring on a thyme bush,
Perused a pregnant woman under torrential rain;
Invulnerable,
Manipulated,
Empty thoughts that manoeuvres the corrupt mind;
A snail struggling to overcome the steep stalk,
A depraved heart lonely and unloved,
I saw women breasts feeding soured milk,
Recognising the malnourished children before a bonfire,
The deepest pit holding hundred of cadavers,
All in one rotten basket.
I heard the words of a song, screeching without rhythm,
I heard the lie of a woman cry rape,
I’ve seen her innocent victim jailed;
I longed for a clear mind,
Without sorrow,
Confusion,
And hate.
I saw a garden of yellow daffodils turning red,
That is the husband mutilated the wife,
The bright light of an artificial sun,
The darkest sky without moon and stars,
The unfortunate baby sucked out to live with us,
In a world of gloom,
Where a bird that eats the wheat discouraging the farmer,
Where the worm swallowed by a lizard,
Where a butterfly soaring on a thyme bush;
Where a pregnant woman under torrential rain falls to the ground and
miscarriage.
Awakening the country from stupor,
we stop all military manoeuvres,
erasing racial hatred from our home,
that all human beings, fearlessly roam,
greening the earth, leading by example,
love of humanity, be our mantle,
focus on education and healthcare,
home for each soul, free from poverty snare,
whilst encouraging entrepreneurship,
finer soul uplifting arts, our flagship,
space and solar energy, our focus,
love our religion, along Gods locus
judicial reforms for trials made speedy,
food for the needy, jail for the greedy,
guns, drugs and prostitution all must go,
with our ethics built on love throb mellow,
mooting single world governance in peace,
weaponised such, that no foe we appease,
disaster management a focus zone
friendly with neighbours, faults quick to atone,
thus an iron fist in a velvet glove,
strong as lion, yet gentle like a dove.
09-February-2021
Written for ‘If I was president’ poetry contest
Sponsor: Matt Caliri
(22 lines, Syllabic rhyme)
A folktale
There is a small country sharing part of its border
to a giant country, both have been friends for
over 300 years during world war two they came
helped the small country to get rid of the enemy.
Then propaganda articles appeared in many papers
how bad the government in the big country was,
(Let us make it easy the small country we can call
Norway and big the country Russia) the Norwegian
took no notice, they visited Russia often to buy
vodka, cigarettes and other items that are expensive
in their little country; and some travelled to Moskva
which has a rich cultural heritage.
Then the Americans/NATO held a proxy war and
the American soldiers and tanks got in the way
of tour buses, needless to say, the soldiers were
confused that the people from the tiny country
we’re not afraid of the big bear this because of the
US combatants were victims of lying propaganda.
Well, the military nonsense ended their proxy war
the Norwegian continued to travel to Russia to do
their shopping and as always they were welcomed
and no one mentioned the silly manoeuvres by
the misguided military personnel were playing in the snow.
Thou art my mistress,my fantasy,and my craving
Thou art my imperial,my masterpiece,my wealth, and treasure
Thou art sunshine and silvery that doth enliven dismal heart
To the sparkling stars I shall compare thee
Your beauty with beauteous,luminous,and lustrous
Thou art serenity of many endowments:
Endowed with cooling effects of milky moon on a starry night
How ductile is thy movements
Lithe body lissomly limbers in exquisite
Like summer orchids manoeuvres on jolly sprigs.
Thou art nosegay endued with odoriferous incense to nostrils
As hard as diamonds oft
As chill as frosted hail
Yet thou remain delicate like dandelion thistles
And as sweet as that of thamatin
Sticked with faithfulness of lioness care
Thou art the sweet songs I dost composed in dreams
Where, in dual we shall sing in our melodious tone of the nightangle.
Thou art my reasons to morns wake
Thou art irresistible:
unique,proper ,and sublime
Mistress Yangchenma ,you are!
All my tears and scars
Hadth transformed into radiant blossoms
Giving me a reason to smile each days
Thou art imcomparable,My mistress Yangchenma!
Thou hadst joy and forever in your sparkling eyes.
Thou art entrancing divine soul
Yes! Thou art veritably.
Thank you.
*Yangchenma refers to girl name.
Note: Your humble rectification is highly respected.
As I sat on the wayside fence
Enjoying a bask in the sun
Came by a Mom Duck
With her soft-downed yellow brood.
She "Ten-hutted" right in front of me
Ducklings screech-halted there.
I scrabbled in my pockets,
My chips turned duck-feed-fare.
Mom Duck stepped to one side
And let her kids break rank.
Right busy did the cuties get,
Clacking beaks to a man.
Quack, Quack, said Mom Duck.
You're Welcome, Ma'am, I said.
~06 May 2016~
Stand-easy: military term for a short break from exercises/manoeuvres for refreshments
Your memories, a perpetual stream of visitors.
Memories bursting with daring adventures.
Conquering the Kilimanjaro with an intimate artistic alliance.
Madness in the sky, a utter nutty experience of you flying a plane over the shore of Indian ocean,
extreme manoeuvres, you called it 'Top Gun Style'
with that, I said “shoot me down, I'm already dead”.
Traversing across a deserted island, detached from the world.
Stranded in the vast plains of Serengeti with a broken car and the unseen wild animals.
A taste of mystical wilderness of Africa, an insight to fragile life in a dangerous zone.
You drinking my share of Masai's ritual cattle blood drink,
vegetarianism was my lame excuse,
but you remained unconvinced
Exploring a volcanic mountain, never again toxic fumes fill my lungs.
Creation of life through our spiritual consortium,
where two lives emerged from me, carrying parts of you.
Climbing mountains with our offsprings with all the craziness of crying and yelling.
These eternal moments, I re-live on a quotidian in the sweet realm of my memories.
My soul honours our timeless connection, yet a temporary union of our presence.
Today in my heart, I carry your bestowed legacy of thrill seeking, adventurous, exciting, epic 'live in the moment.
Wandering amidst the cosmic pieces,
the tiny star moves ahead.
shadowing along nature's quest,
and surpassing nature's tiniest thread.
With the sharpest vibration,
it manoeuvres above the galactic abyss.
Entrapped, in the gravity of celestial charade.
Distorting the restrictions,
it pulsates to the gates.
a sound so unknown drives away,
A sonic boom so makes it insurgent.
encompassed in the harmony,
it crafts up the path to end.
surrounded with the galaxies,
dancing to the tune of the triad.
Vibrating pulses thrill the cosmic bed,
a mystic nature the light creates.
gazing at the end of an abyss,
the tiny star starts to emancipate.