Best Potentates Poems
“Make love tonight as if it were your last
Then hold your youngest; memorize his face
Next time you see your sons, years may have passed
Hold fast to moments time tries to erase
“Our lion-hearted king calls us to arms
Tomorrow morning at the dawn’s first light
We leave our families, our friends, our farms
To free imprisoned warriors, we’ll fight
“Crusaders chained and whipped by potentates
Are aching to view England’s shores once more
So bring your lance, a battlefield awaits
Our native sons are what we’re fighting for
“Four hundred strong, we’ll cross the moat at dawn
A checkmate’s in our future, king to pawn”
*September 9, 2020
For John Lawless’s “Warrior Sonnet” Contest
You know what?
It's a brand new day!
One more chance to get it right.
What IT is, I haven't a clue,
and you know what?
Neither do you.
We all wander
in and out of daze,
hardly aware
of our rathood in the maze.
We each look searchingly
into each others eyes
hoping to find the answers
to our whys.
Those that have the temerity
to state
that they know the way,
we elevate
to gurus and priests
and potentates.
Then we are shocked
after scandal and disaster
that they are as clueless
as we.
potentates posture positive
pontiff punches prove powerful
protectors pretence premeditated
praetor promptly protects pride
princes' prance precede praise
princess' precious prayer prayed
progeny prose practiced perfectly
predator parades predominance
prey predestined predicament
primitive premise provides promise
preachers play perfect performance
populas position poorly played
powerless pouts past pow-wows
press potshots potpourri pother
penetrates poultry popular position
powder puff polititions perdition
large yellow diesel machines coughed
coughed thick black smoke, caught their breath
struggled convulsively and after a series of loud farts
assorted groans and mechanical creaks
lumbered like broken old men waiting to pee.
Oh, they worked that day, from sun up till the orange red sky was upon them
shivering in the cold dark desert sand
parked together like defenseless tadpoles,
shaking and quivering in the damp night air,
their job done for another day.
Building what, sand ramps, that's what.
From nowhere to nowhere!
another notch in the creative history
duly recorded for potentates from the east
who understand & see cows in the sky
or not so pretty women with tight green skirts
whores, dirty mattresses and rats
who love the companionship
of pencil pushing addicts alcoholics
and assorted beasts of the mind
Squalor is the key here
rub your nose in crap is the meaning of their sage advice
promulgated by the ass kissing majority
who worship at the altar of mendacity
after all, they were at M.I.T. and were bored.
Who gives a shtt! Publish, it must mean something
If it doesn' they were the first to do it!
Eat flesh and die. Filthy flesh at that,
hardly fine dining, but that's another story.
Goodbye for now.
Villanelle: The Dilemma of the Non-Violent – 29
At last O Children of the Mother Contrées*
Roll out the red carpets for High Potentates
The hour of glory at Champs–Elysées
Cry not from Eiffel Tower 2C degrés
Temperature rises end of century, Mates
At last O Children of the Mother Contrées
Streak frowning skies in red white and blue display
Let pent-up champagne pop through foie-gras plates
The hour of glory at Champs-Elysées
Limousines line up for haute couture soirées
Blue-ribonned chefs dress-up spruced-up back-door dates
At last O Children of the Mother Contrées
Tri-colour ice cream on rhino-horn purées
See not hear not how iceberg disintegrates
The hour of glory at Champs-Elysées
Chefs d’Etat promise profit for protégés
While oceans swamp islands rivers city-states
At last O Children of the Mother Contrées
The hour of glory at Champs-Elysées
• The final “s” in French is silent
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2015
Love …
The power of power rests in her hands
She syndicates two together to generate voluminous.
She is so-called pressure by others for imperceptible she is, but then vintages prominence
A thin stripe divorces her from abhorrence but she outshines him
Her implication is just an approximating of salt, noted in absents
You never would make it without her in the course of the journey
She makes hard paths soft and easy to manoeuvre
The lone endorser of darlingness, understanding, and obedience in men.
Who would make it deprived of her? Even the Royals and Potentates needs her.
She is the treasures of life and the motive for living which brands living, living.
Schools, churches and homes and associates make her their goddess
The integrations of humans typically consequences due to her and in her absents wouldn’t amalgamations decease?
Hate her and lust, hate, envy then see if even a dog needs you.
Those who hates her are swim the pools of hardship and death alive.
Mighty Gods stands fr the mortals due to her soft power of uniting even the different
She has been a major reality of life and a vanguard of living for millenniums
The mighty queen of life who runs beneath hearts even of evil ones.
Only those who chose her made it and those who fail crumble in the paths of hatred lust jealousy and envy which leads to disaster
The blind one makes two different ones, one to extinguish trouble
She makes the world a better place, not for her it would have been hell on earth
The lone princess of Venus, natural love is an integral part of life.
Listening is the most
beautiful things, I have
ever experience in my
entire existence.
Given unto me the
power of silent
by the silencer.
As the blackness removes
the colors from my eyes,
my intuition and instincts
are completely replied upon
as they guide me in
the shadows of my own thoughts.
So many hidden
emotions, my thoughts
became the shadows of
my feelings and those
feelings, became
potentates of my mind.
Being subjected to my feelings, I was
impotent to erect effective actions,
and inadequate to construct intellectual choices,
due to my own ignorance, desires,
fears, and anxiety that has
tortured the deepest depths
of my inner thoughts.
Corruption, murky, desolated,
and feeble-minded all became
acquainted with one another as
I constitutionally, allowed them
to control the authenticity
of my purely mind
been caged, suppressed,
extorted and mocked.
Consumed in my suffering,
drowning in my guilt,
the dark spaces become
full of dreadful chaos voices.
Wiggling like waves,
but never makes it
to the shores.
Buried in the deep,
hidden from the light.
Expressing the deepest
depth of me, I found
the meaning to my suffering.
With a deep understanding,
I now accept this beauty.
The very image that was
created in the image of an
burning bush,
flame was once buried
and now unearthed.
As that silence continues to grow,
I begin to regain inner
strength and wisdom,
by being in a state of
being wise of my
everyday experiences.
Germinating, growing, harvesting,
and progressing,
my intellectual mind has been
flourishing like the
Olmecs, Mayans,
and the Nasca civilizations that
were flourishing back
in those ancient times.
Conquering all feelings
and balancing the
emotions has never
felt so refreshing and
reviving and yet electrifying.
peas do it
whole forests of
deciduous trees do it
we's could do it too
let's copulate
complete phylums of
pedigrees do it
i hope you'll agrees, 'n' do it
all desires to appease, do it
let's copulate
the paupers and the potentates
everyone wants to procreate
all manner of fauna and flora
do desire and simply adora
to copulate, they think it's great
every species wants its mate
giraffes are always necking
pretty parrots prefer pecking
gouramis like their kissing
waiting ladies, other blissing
so let's copulate
orchids all colored and scenting
attracting insects by augmenting
instincts desire to copulate
life’s fascination to procreate
arthropods genetically driven
give nods to drives unforgivin'
the whole world's standard of livin'
is driven by a desire insatiate
to copulate and procreate
so i hope that you'll agrees
don't give my affections a tease
i prefer not to beg, but please
i'll get down on my knees to
assume my position
on this admonition
let's copulate
oh baby, slake my burning desire
to amorously set your pipes on fire
all i really wanna do
is water your Archimedean screw
so let's do it baby, let's copulate
to tell you now, my own discourse
it's just our mattered intercourse
a filibuster would be remiss
I vote for you and me to congress
I'm unimpeachable
if you're reachable
let's do it, let's copulate
© Goode Guy 2011-06-02
with thanks, (and sincere apologies) to Cole Porter
A Moral Sonnet
A big crow and a sparrow which had painted itself
In the colour of the big bird to appear masterful became
Good friends as the both suffered from bombastic
Self-believe and they make a pact to kill the ageing eagle
And his brood the did and by doing so killed millions of lesser
Birds which in despair turned and pecked each other
The sand became rubicund and from a distance looked like
A carpet for kings and potentates
From the eastern states, vultures came to feed and defend
To get the big crow and the pretend one, off their land
The crow flew home the false one had a mud bath to look
Like common sparrows but is of no avail the sparrows that
Had danced with the crow was shunned and travel from
Country to country and is sleepless in expensive houses-.
Russia has indefensible missiles
that can carry a nuclear warhead.
And climate change triggers bells and whistles,
for future predictions look bad, filled with dread.
Kim Jong-un has built a nuclear bomb
threatening to nuke the United States.
And ISIS kills in the name of Islam,
thriving in the shadows of our misstates.
While the free world’s led by President Trump,
allies are insulted and potentates kissed.
And the market's heading into a slump
that's sure to place poverty on this list.
Today’s spicy news bits are food for thought
should these fail to frighten, I’ve got a lot.
(Sonnet)
Jan. 3, 2019
Make no mistake, in spite of 2020's terror, God's Mercy is being served on planet earth.*
Every morning, day after day, year after year, God's magnanimous mercies are endless.
Righteousness exalts nations, and its departure automatically engenders humiliation.
Rebellion is in the heart of man, and redemption lies at the core of the heart of God.
Yesterday, The Savior's birth; today, He lives; tomorrow, King of Kings-Lord of Lords returns.
Countries, emperors, kings, queens, presidents, premiers, dictators, Caesars, or czars.
History repeats itself because rulers seem unable to do things differently; God's way.
Reasons and rhymes, crimes and times keep turning like the globe of the world.
I do not anticipate nor expect lasting peace until the coming of The Prince Of Peace.
So it is written, so shall it be done; every knee shall bow to The Virgin born Christ Child.
The fulness of time is rapidly approaching, and neither your vote nor mine will stop it.
Mortal men, the whole breed of Adam's seed, have constantly fought against God.
And we are getting closer to the end than we ever realized, when Christ will rule.
Saints and sinners, popes and potentates, elects and elites; all will submit to Christ.
112320PS
*I pray that we will let nothing, absolutely nothing, take 'The Merry' out of our '2020 Christmas'
Like God amassing gifts of gold and frankincense and myrrh,
vain potentates, possessed by pride that riches will confer,
depleted pillaged villages in pagan days of old…
With penetration privileges, their fortunes were foretold.
In feudal times, chaste clerics, cloaked, wrapped rings around the mind
with hymns of magic, mystic myths and figurines enshrined,
while blessing bayonet-like blades that mutilate and maim…
With penetration privileges, believers bore no blame.
In search of caramel colonies, some sailors set their sails
to conquer puppet provinces, for sovereignty prevails,
purloining wicked treasure troves which others claimed their own…
With penetration privileges, such sins sustained the throne.
Well, nowadays the quest proceeds, this time for ebon oil,
so peoples once again are caught within the serpent’s coil
and, pierced by fangs of greed and lust, death yields benign escape…
With penetration privileges, you’re free to rip and rape.
We wave the flags and beat the drums and often kneel to pray
to glorify our victories, bold, that happen far away;
but none salute the severed souls impaled upon a pike…
With penetration privileges, the riffraff look alike.
One day the moguls won’t agree on how to slice the pie;
they’ll spit and spat and, tit-for-tat, atomic barbs will fly -
but when the button’s finally pressed, they too will grace the heap…
With penetration privileges, the hole that’s hewn is deep.
Petrichor perfumes the air,
storm violence unleashed;
the force of raindrops on the ground,
the heat of lightning in the street
cleanse earth’s stagnant atmosphere
and primal fragrance is released.
The greens of spring are radiant,
polished malachite and peridot;
each tree dons a gemstone crown,
a reigning verdant king or queen,
country and urban potentates,
with flower followers at their feet.
Copyright March 6, 2022
LANDING
Big Brother's eye
beyond the sky
Saw it not sneak nigh,
round valley and hill,
gripping necks at will;
No Global Hawk, Predator,
Brigadier, Mirador,
nor fortress and tower high
Could site it here or there,
abridging lives to spare.
And as providers
keep a busy head
on their insecure daily bread,
even as they watch
in dread for the toll
on the new day's scroll;
And as the white angels contend,
with the Reaper's octopus hand,
And as old earth has to brace
For the Reaper's hasty pace,
Behold the mighty potentates
Of every creed,
of all Palace and House,
of every rank and race
Now kneel before Great Leveller Covid
and, on their clayey knees, plead
with him to spare their crown or mace.
Mohamed Mansouri
Tunis (Tunisia), on 14 April 2020
There is a call of the night.
The lantern throws scattered light.
The windswept voices calling.
From on high stars are falling.
A wandering silent street.
Where the darkness and light meet.
Time gears the merging of fates.
The ruling of potentates.
To bring about the great ones.
The parts shadowed by the sums.
When love no longer knows pain.
and the sun shines... with the rain!
date:4/16/22