Best Occasioned Poems
I’ve an anger which cannot be hidden!
A burning passion that comes unbidden!
My Soul desolated with grievous rage,
reacts with furious justified outrage!
Occasioned by the offences of ignorance,
bigotry, discrimination and intolerance!
Though evil are the ravages of vandalism,
they pale to the magnitude of racialism!
Colour, creed, even the shape of the eye
is little enough to make bigots cry:
“He’s not of us! He’s a different breed!”
“Watch him close or he’ll do us an ill deed!”
There is no cause for remarks such as these,
but pestilent views are like a disease!
Some ill chosen words expressed in vague
terms, insinuate like a fatal plague!
Ethnic slurs in the guise of humour, fester!
With but one angry response one protester,
can incite more slander, which raging out of hand,
foments a backlash! Runs rampant! Inflames the land!
But racism is a sword with a two edged blade!
It cleaves not only those on whom it’s laid
but those who scorn to curb their vicious tongue
from whom such defamatory words have sprung!
Can we not accept those who are not as us?
Must we blame the innocent for the fuss
instigated by such biased perception?
Let us quash ignorance at its inception,
or by default we shall be guilty too!
By using diverse conceits we construe
to make imprudent acts lawful decrees!
While disregarding all impassioned pleas
for tolerance! Unless we denounce this blight,
or take a stand and with fortitude, to fight
and end disharmony, discord and dislike!
Racialism and hatred will flourish alike!
Rhymer April 1st, 2017.
~ ziket ~
crescent moon
cat's in the cradle
__________________
A tip of the hat to Line
Gauthier for her ziket,
'Full Moon' (Sept 01),
which occasioned this
ziket. T.Y.S.M!
The cows is lowin' in the old corral and all the evenin' chores is done.
Hank scraped the manure off'n his boots 'cause he's a fastidious son-of-a-gun.
He drew his pay, jumped in his pickup and headed fer Clyde's Saloon,
To quaff some brew, grab a gal er two and dance to the fiddler's tune!
There was a hoedown at Clyde's where cowpokes met ever' Saturday night.
There they danced, boozed and let off steam that usually ended in a fight!
There was a band with drums, banjo, fiddle, bass and a steel git-tar,
And the pianer player Mike McGurk (when they could pry him from the bar!)
A gal named Mousy Bush sang with a voice that quivered like Robin Hood's bow.
That's where Hank hung out Saturday nights to blow his hard-earned dough!
Hank was dancin' the Texas Two Step and havin' the time of his life,
When an incident occurred that occasioned another night of strife.
Some dude splattered a Coors on Hank's new Calvin Klein shirt and jeans.
Now, stuff happens and normally this wouldn't amount to a hill of beans,
But this got Hank's dander up and since he never held his hootch all that well,
He punched the guy, bloodied his schnoz and began a-raisin' hell.
A grand brawl ensued with ever'one tossin' punches, chairs and tables.
There was a heap of cussin' with patrons lablin' others with tawdry lables!
Hank arose Sunday mornin' with a poundin' headache and two black eyes,
But he'll be back at Clyde's Saturday next to enjoy a hoedown with the guys!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved
(Not for the contest)
Beware the Judas Priest
Trust and obey this preacher did say,
Down on your knees for forgiveness, now pray,
Confess your misdoings, repent of your sins,
But lack of due reverence caused the plight that you’re in.
You’re morally just but have fallen from grace,
Unable to stand in the light of his face;
Judgemental, aggressive, condemning, unfair,
These are the traits that have taken you there,
Alone in your nightmare, unable to see
The pain your behaviour occasioned for free;
Selfish, dogmatic, conceited and blind
To the harm that your actions have caused to mankind.
Sit back on your laurels, examine your prize,
Did the wreckage you’ve caused really need all those lies?
You held so much trust in the palm of your hand,
No one could have guessed just what you had planned
You smiled in the foreground and judged from behind,
Laughed at the simple, the answers they’d find.
So now that your mischief has come to an end,
Can the damage you’ve caused to those souls ever mend?
Can your rule of injustice be followed by peace?
Will you really relinquish you hold and release
The memories you’ve kidnapped, the traditions you’ve squashed,
All the hope that’s been stripped and the innocence lost?
Will you wake up one day and look back with remorse
At the carnage you’ve caused in the name of our Lord?
dress-suit occasioned, to the eye perception
toasts and canned laughter,in the name of making out
can i buy you a drink, the prologue of octopused slumber
seated on a cold stool, the troubles of joyful singles
till a shadow pinched me to the site of, a spring lit cheongsam dress
our eyes acquainted by virtue of fate, shaking our balls in a bouncy whirl
drifting to a locality fit for two
wishful inspired ross-colored magic, by dint of a love spell
muffling tunes, a language treasured by hearts unified
like poles oozing, drops of distinct formation
falling in love the chines way
...Have occasioned
I think to have been decor-
rating The Tree, it's
piney quills & tines
dressing in glassy festoons
weightless baubles of
tins-led Christmas-candy
colors, like porcelain
fragile-fine, hooked canes
& dangled barber-pole-paean
peppermint-stick Memories
of savored hangon
trinkets & heirlooms
looming like a twinkling
tapestry 'round
wreaths of snowy popped-corn
dangling - "No, darlings, that's not
for eating..." Yes, I
have occasioned the
rows of bubbling light-tubes
like glowing chains of
warm caterpillars
inching-on toward the Manger's
Star of a chrysalis
Christmas Joy to Light-
Up the World! Oh Yes, I have
occasioned The Tree
Breathing in Ecstasy...
And the Wonder, of this from
a Guy whose Imprimatur
might have been
"Tannenbaum!"
H.e.m.
12.8.MMvi.
Noel.
"And so, as Tiny Tim observed, G-D bless Us, Every One!"
(" A Christmas Carol"). And...
A "...Merry Christmas to All, and to All a Good Night!"
(Clement Clarke Moore, "Twas The Night Before Christmas").
Amen.
A brief visit, very brief
Occasioned by passion
Passion to hurt someone
That someone- me.
Then, exit, departure;
Mission accomplished!
I sat on my bed
My head on my hands
Weeping, sadly weeping.
She didn’t even sit
Just stood there… sobbing
Her teardrops piercing my heart.
I puzzled at the brevity of the message
Grieved at its equanimity
Its potency defied my manhood
Compelling a heartache
The power generated by her vein
Who will not venerate?
I remember nothing
I want to remember nothing
I wanted only to undress
that figure poised high above me
tear the effigy to naught
and…and…and.d.d.d (sob, sob)
I remember our first date
I did everything not to become late
I wanted to create an impression, an expression of love.
This was the first date, on my calendar of true love
Love like no other before, and I've had none like it there after
An angel so beautiful, taking steps so careful
And I wanted to create an impression, an expression of love.
She walked to me with a bright smile so divine
I was carried away, away above cloud nine
A million questions seemed answered
And all the doubts in me seemed cleared
She is the one, I concluded
As I wanted to create an impression, an expression of love.
We said so much without talking
Hand in hand we kept walking
Stealing glances at each other
And before too long, my heart was stolen
The beautiful bright eyes hang so humbly,
Occasioned by a contagious smile so sweet
I almost hit my foot on a tile, admiring her sweet lips
I listened to honey drip from her mouth,
Listening to her sweet words using my heart
To create an impression, an expression of love.
Again, I looked at her teary eyes and asked
' Why are you crying? '
In turn she asked me
' And why are you crying? '
To create an impression, an expression of love.
Because I found you,
Angels stay in heaven but I'm talking to one right now
This is heaven on earth because of you:
You bring meaning to my life
My true definition of love
You are worth more than the most beautiful of the roses
One in a million
You are the one my heart desires
The apple of my eye
You are my dream come true
The girl of my wildest dreams
I love you whole heart mind body and soul my queen
I answered without thinking to create an impression, an expression of love.
I felt tear drops on my chest, as we knelt down in a nest
An emotion so deep, brought a decision so divine
No more words to create our beautiful world
And begin the beginning of wonderful journey full of sweet memories
But an embrace was enough to create an impression, an expression of love.
A brief visit, very brief
Occasioned by passion
Passion to hurt someone
That someone- me.
Then, exit, departure;
Mission accomplished!
I sat on my bed
My head on my hands
Weeping, sadly weeping.
She didn’t even sit
Just stood there… sobbing
Her teardrops piercing my heart.
I puzzled at the brevity of the message
Grieved at its equanimity
Its potency defied my manhood
Compelling a heartache
The power generated by her vein
Who will not venerate?
I remember nothing
I want to remember nothing
I want only to undress
that figure poised high above me
tear the effigy to naught
and…and…and.d.d.d (sob, sob)
She never cried at her husband's death
Whom she had nurtured in sickness and in health;
Her presence in Paris was no romantic dream
But a necessity occasioned by his treatment regime.
Learned, cultured, a historian and scholar,
She edits his posthumous books with flair.
A teacher of English, acclaimed everywhere
From London to Paris, her students do care.
Witty and alert in her ninth decade,
She teaches with love, no cost to her charges;
They reach their goals, and sprng to the aid
Of a lady of true grit who asks no favours.
My dream came true with her arrival in Spain
One week with us and off she goes again,
Leaving fond memories that will never fade,
A lady so special, she is queen of her domain.
Her generosity is such that she feels the need to repay
Kindnesses shown in the smallest way;
Will we ever see such a fine lady again?
A lady of true grit, queen of her domain.
when war approaches, miles away
it scuttles sideways like a crab
or creeps slowly, slowly and slowly
like a reptile,
with holocaust claws;
a quick eye sees,
a smart heart reads,
at distance.
war, as you may think,
is not the pandemonium
occasioned by the actions of noisy missiles,
nor the havoc wrought by Satan 2 explosion.
war is not the sporadic shootings
nor the rumbling grenades
that make the noble cities a desolation.
war is quiet!
war is when the noise has died down,
and the murky smoke disappears
from the sky
to settle in the mind;
and sundry sicknesses begin to creep
upon the earth.
war is when poor souls are left
to endure the wroth of a ferocious hunger;
when we remember our friends and lovers
but can never again see their faces.
then the soul wanders
in the nostalgic path of peacetime,
and we wish those cruel days never be.
war is the sight of miserable kids
separated from their parents
without a parting message.
war is the plight of women stripped naked
by the death of husbands and children,
and that of the promising kids turning waifs
amidst of desolations.
but we can win a war and lose nothing,
we can win a war without a gunshot,
if we avoid it early.
for those who start fire
are not burned by it.
those consumed by the flame
never want war.
must we let peace lead
and shun war.
must we let love rescue the earth
from the verge of extinction.
for when we fight in the war,
it's only our friends that we kill.
The tide of time shall stamp its mark on your face
Making less fair the stunning charm of your youth,
The jealous spell of age shall rob you of your gleam
To leave you a mere shadow of the hey-time Ruth.
Your well-measured strides shall falter to a careless trot
Against the heaviness of legs occasioned by the tear
That heartless time inflicts on its blind mortal consumers,
Who savor its spiced bits ignorant of its well-calculated wear.
Newer beauties will rise from under your old feet
To replace your forced exit from the pageant seats,
You will look back to reminisce about the cute past
And see clearly how time quashes coveted feats.
So when younger beauties rise to take your place,
Exit without a murmur and let more tender roses
Take the place of the crumpled old, and take a photo
To show the younger how time crushed your poses.
I was born in the odds,
I lived through it,
dotted the lines on my path
I was born among hyenas,
these scrambling to stiffen the last breath,
Amidst hurts and hate first from home,
A lot cast in mirage and fantasies,
Hope too soon cut short,
Survival, a struggle,
Unexplainable Fratricidal warfare,
The closer in blood, the more bloodier,
A race without consent
A badge of calumny,
Shot on the heels like Achilles,
Bore cruelty from innocence to adulthood,
Unending miasma, the debacles of a short existence,
Abandoned, secluded,
for reaction occasioned by their own bile,
Childhood stolen,
set on a slippery path as they watch a peradventure slide to my ill.
From ambuscade, they drew their swords,
Their arrows bathed in blood unabated,
Aiming at my marrows,
I groan and mourn in the dark,
Enemies as friends monitoring,
Friends as enemies watching.
This path not by Choice.
I lived through it,
A thousand bands of beasts assaulting,
Into this war, enlisted.
I was born there, buoyed by troubadour,
Somewhere in Africa,
My right are taken away from me,
Where laws are drafted by criminals,
Where the police pay themselves on the streets,
Where certificate are mere papers with payments,
I was born there ,
Where criminals are protected and sanity deemed madness,
Somewhere in West Africa
where compassion is extinct
The survival of the fittest,
Street boys kills to survive,
Scholars abandon politics to simpleton,
Where the brightest are critics and cadres prevents the ambitious
I live there,
Where certificate is a document to escape,
Lawyers now charge and bail for survival,
Doctors protesting like urchins
Poets selling cosmetics,
bankers riding "Okada",
Amongst drug peddlers,
Amongst cultist,
Where clergymen induce the gullible,
In this cage we call country.
I was born there.
Insanity was at its peak again
Humanity degraded. . . debased
Lives of fellow beings became toys
They massacred thousands
For the Holy war
They smouldered while laughing
Matchetes and cultlass were freely used
Heads roll on the street
Part of body littered major road, even in Major street6
They are fighting for Allah
Whose commandment is for all to love one another
Who are they then fighting for?
Are these men not really insane?
Insanity runs down their veins
Ignorance gush through their blood
Wickedness reigns in thier heart
Men that are not fit for our society
Must we wait again
For another display of insanity?
We must stop it now.
Alayande Stephen T.
12.32am
12/10/2008
An account of brutal massacre occasioned
By unbridled religion intolerance in
Kaduna State, Nigeria in 2002 during the aborted
Miss World Beauty Contest in Nigeria as
Narrated by an eye witness Latifat of UNILORIN.
Image of Carmel by the Sea by Pixabay.
Carmel by the Sea
Three-quarter distance to the city
the rose bowl parade's held,
paying a friend another visit
as if the golden gate is not
um, not after umpteen years.
she does a lot of shopping
touchy-feely, whatchamacallit
reveals the wherewithal that
we're still friends
an artisans treasure
trove, this cubby-hole of
Clint Eastwood's hideaway
from the city of the stars
to the city by the bay
an assortment of
artisan works sprawled out
crafted pieces tiny and
large all over the store
some chimerical or
a closer look or, white
elephants and then those
"I'll take it, how much!"
'twas, a closer look that
nabbed us of a Cedar Point
thingamajig, 'twas a metallic
tree attached to a rock
she picked the one on top
of this here tiered glass shelf
'tis the makeup of the store
with signs, "Do not touch and
do not hold, once you break
it, we mark it sold!"
while holding the metallic tree,
it separated from the rock,
which crashed through the top
tiered glass shelf center,
creating a v-shaped of the tiered
glass shelves beneath, causing
the entire display of all the metallic
trees and rocks crashing down
in front of her shoes as I stepped
back as an instantaneous response
that overwhelmed me.
a schoolmarm persona sorta
stood like posing for a photo
methinks she froze up, and while
standing bestilled, I cannot stop
myself from laughing, so I
paid the $400.
in 1980 prices, at least I didn't
walk home, 'twas years of a
point remembered till we parted,
and that occasioned me, the best
investment I ever made!
2022 January 18
*3rd Place*
Funny Memories
~~Natasha L Scragg: Judged 2022 January 28