Best Prussia Poems
From Poland hailed your Uncle Max, who in matters of manners was a bit lax,
While from France came Aunt Belle, whom I thought was really quite swell.
Next up from Russia was Cousin Boris, whom I always confused with Nephew
Morris;
And then from Germany came Aunt Gitel, whose fingers fairly flew o'er
her fiddle.
After that from Lita came Uncle Beryl, whose fistic prowess put enemies
in peril.
Of course, from Ukraine came Cousin Emma, whose soup was the crème de
la crema.
It's our duty to recall Uncle Saul, though no one knew where he came from
at all
And finally, from Prussia, poor Aunt Masha, who subsisted for years on
potatoes and kasha.
What's this? You say you don't know any of these relatives at all?
Neither their names nor those of their children can you recall?
Then furrow your brow and bestir your brain; just don't be appalled:
Uncle Max may have been from Krakow, but his skeleton was prematurely
interred by the Nazis at the death-camp of Dachau.
Cousin Emma was from a wealthy family in Vizhnitz, though her fiery
cremation was reserved for the ovens of Auschwitz.
And pretty Gitel, who grew up in the small village of Dulmen, was gunned
down in the caverns of Bergen-Belsen...
So much for our family tree.
Had grandpa not fled to America by sea,
One of those dead branches above
Would surely have been me.
HOLOCAUST MEMORIAL DAY -- 73RD ANNIVERSARY -- APRIL 12, 2018
NEVER FORGET!
THE NEW JERUSALEM
THE FIRST STANZA
Have thou ever seen such a concordance?
A new relation between man and beast
For beyond these hostile hills lies a place where the boisterous Bacchus feast
Imagine the fruits of Adam grow on a common tree
Where all would merry, ebony and ivory
Slave and free
Imagine the seven rivers meet at a widen strait
For today good has triumph over evil
Love burns up hate
The New Jerusalem is not a truce between Zion and Arabia.
Nor is it the fall of another great wall
It is not the end to man’s vicious battles fought with monstrous infernos, sulphur and thunder
But it encompasses all
THE SECOND STANZA
Have thou ever seen such an enterprise?
Where the stars would rejoice
For the lachrymal clouds would start to sing and dance at the slightest hearing of the voice
Oh! Pure ecstasy! Elysium devour me please
For a lamb has made it so
Imagine a land replenished with trees, gardens and lakes
Where untold pearls and diamonds grow
Imagine the Pandora’s box once unlocked now thrown into its abysmal grave
For a thousand pieces of silver, gold and mace
Is no equal to the deeds of the brave
The New Jerusalem is not the new –found romance between Babylonia and the Eagle.
Nor is it the coalescence of Prussia
It is all that is said and will be said
And not the rebirth of Russia
By Akanbi Olusegun
Copyright 2003.
BLACK,RED and GOLD
Location---SOMEWHERE IN KÖNIGSBERG 1945 APRIL 9
Scene---A Dying German Agent/A Soldier`s thoughts/reflections just before death
On this periphery of life
Let blue jeans of my ice blonde Brenda wear me to marry with death
Fire will be her gown, ashes shall be my girdle, shattered is everything beneath
Smokes so discerned sprawling
Some will say it was a poetic corpse after so deadly the strife
Wrapped in unknown funerary fetes
My blood will be poured in cask of mimicks
A yawn concealing me in semicolon as I saw I was dying,
sickened of the sicks
All the ravens of sorcery lurking the corner in full stops
As if I knew nothing following the wisdom of Socrates
Boots and kilt emphasizing my lost treasure
At last the casket to embrace me from the provocateur
No persuasive argument will be my candy,
a keepsake solidarity in barter
A marked plot spewed by shrewd men
An aftermath velvet and a last squint of Prussia far and near
Death so dear only to see if the lady in red silk I loved has red roses
My dear Soviet plezhvadya
for the wide-brimmed black hat, red bloody eyes hers, a gunshot
,yellow mouthful venom of words oozing out in raucous abuses
Hatred carped in end and unend Olesya, good as gold my Olesya
Now the bastion they called bastards buccaneered before her epithet
Kaliningrad`s cloud full of black so black an obnoxious smoke
Davai! Davai! they shouted and again nemesis eavesdropped
Eagles died I know not if a death of glory as I felt I saw an 1871 gauntlet
That’s my last shot of life before I became death`s forgotten lucky bloke
Vocabulary --1-Plezhvadya(Russian/Czech)- A Soviet dish
2.Davai!(Russian)--Let`s do it, Come on!
3.Obnoxious-extremely unpleasant
4.Gauntlet-An armored glove of the tectonic Knights
5.Raucous-Harsh,Sharp,Loud
6.Barter-Exchange,Trade,Swap without use of money
7.Buccaneer-Maruader,Plunderer,Raider
Konigsberg in old Prussia had of bridges just seven,
A distressing fact to the Konigsbergers since their rival had eleven.
To distract from their angst, the Mayor made up a game,
The winner of which would surely achieve great lasting fame;
The goal: to walk over the seven but each only one time.
For they thought such a walk would be ever so sublime.
So they tried and they tried, but success was denied,
An embarrassing failure the Konigsbergers couldn't hide.
For while the contestants could always walk over six, each
Would then find the seventh was just out of reach.
But one day the famed Leonhard Euler came to town,
And he looked at their bridges and described what he found.
“I’ve added, subtracted. multiplied and divided,
And after much thought, this is what I’ve decided:
In view of Koenigsberg’s bridge distribution,
Mathematically this problem has no solution."
"If you had six bridges or eight, or even twenty-one,
There is a solution and your contest be won.
But with seven it can’t.
Now please excuse me, I’m going off to see
Immanual Kant
To discuss philosophy.”
This so depressed the poor Konigsbergers
That they went into therapy with eminent doctors.
And they never did learn that their Konigsberg story
Would later become famous in mathematical hist'ry.
An Army of soldiers from Prussia
Were ordered to add P to Russia
But down fell the snow
Where they stood to go
So Saint Patrick preached, "Let God flush yuh!"
they would dice many a chive
by management me from da dive
apartments in hatfield in close proximity
to the bloody sorry fate
oof a von nee gutt
thar slaughter house five.
mine eyes saw gore
and remained fixated
orbital fixture
of poor creatures in a daze
sans reaction averting gaze
away from disgusting entrails
visible picture amidst the maze
of chutes and ladders
stepping on select
foursquare did raise
or lower (similar to an elevator)
but movable blocks
also went cross ways
oh, anyway, this reply
written by me - scott math u
passable poet tree - at most true
this email far ye to rue
these twisted sister strands
of pearl jammed zz topped
chromosomal strands being did hew
who only to five feet and ten inches grew
crafts, finesses,
indulges love of language
to prose from fingers flew
and writes poems
cawing all r e'en juiced
one angry emu
leaving her/his presents
custom made doo doo
per comprising a motley crue
of a family - pearl jammed color ague.
please rsvp asap via text
to me scott matthews my chosen ac/dc label
i.e. pleasure like rubbing against sable
create r hard woo n intimate scorpion fable
unless ja noah under me ma jib rush
like inxs o ruck kiss in tower o babe bull
by texting if willing, ready, eager and able
froom - - scotts matthew
who lives way off the mainline -
juiced about a few dirty dozen dancing deeds
done dirt cheap miles west of philadelphia,
and some ten miles east of king o prussia
pennsylvania who imagines your sultry skin
silkily soft as a lynx, pussy cat
rubbing against ma leg under da table.
Sent from my iPhone 456789
Prussia and the other states are moving like a juggernaut.
Each day, our forces are falling to the onslaught.
The German states and cities are united as one.
We have been no match for them since the fighting had begun.
We have all pledged our allegiance to our Emperor Napoleon.
However, in the early battles, our forces became undone.
Here we are in September of 1870.
Uneasiness in Europe has resulted in hostility.
It seems Europe’s biggest bullies had to fight it out.
The attack on Worth has resulted in a rout.
The Prussians are moving south, and we are next to fight.
Strasbourg’s defenses have been bombarded day and night.
Just across the Rhine River, we see their fortifications.
The civilians have been evacuated by Swiss delegations.
We have been ordered to defend to the last man.
However, our Emperor has been captured at Sedan.
This indicates that there is no relief in sight.
General Ulrich has ordered we make our stand and fight.
The Bishop of Strasbourg has pleaded to no avail.
It is only a matter of time before our defenses fail.
I watched a movie last night
where Denmark was fighting
against Prussia
using body parts in canons
To devastate the enemy
infection and disease
spreading through
the enemies ranks
When will people
learn to live in peace
when will people learn
to treat each other as brothers
A girl got pregnant
to one of the soldiers
Her mother threatened
to kick her out
Children make mistakes
children find love
sometimes with the wrong people
yet they are your children
If my child got pregnant
I would not turn my back
I would not kick her out
I would not make her suffer
We would make
room in the house
for a new baby
and encourage the mother
To further her education
to gain financial independence
to build a life
for herself and her baby
Granted children need both parents
but sometimes things happen
my children would always
have a home
We dream of rain...
And the mystery of the gun
We bold hold and driven apart
Kill the king when lovers depart
We dream of rain and the dark arts
Upon an endless sea, across an infinite A’merican waste…
A White House in the middle of Prussia a red square, fifty-two sons of the revolution, hundred of souls of the damned, we gather together to war on finite sands. We dream of rain under the desert sun, we hold the past, behold the last, one of these, we are the past, we look through to you. We are the last, we bold hold during the setting sun. We are the last.
We drive engines of mechanical wyrms, steam demons that burrow through. Deep inside sand on the infinite sea. We are the first, last, and always, nine while nine hold the throne. Bitter are the ones of your enemy’s cast. We sing this song of corruption, we sing empire down. Kill the king while lovers watch. The empire is in throws, the Mericans are bold and hold the line in the sand. A black house of a distant earth.
A white dress, the Empress of Nothing, nothing to hold. We are the last and always. We watch the red planet rise over your shoulder, we see the embers smolder. We are the kindred of the Last. Sing empire down. When lovers depart. They kill the beast in the sands where the steam of its heart bleeds. The Leviathan and of the sand and sea. Sing out our hearts, demand! Eurasia in turmoil the Blades of the One.
The Land of the Gun. Hangs heaven in the hands of the killers, as lovers depart. Law of the Land, the rule of the Gun. The law of man. We dream of rain in a righteous land. One with the Gun. Under a righteous Son. Someday, someday, someday, Dominion! I'm living in films for the sake of Prussia.
A Kino-Runner for the Dre-Karr, And the fifty-two daughters of the revolution is bound for treason, Turn the gold to chrome, a Gift... with nothing to lose, Stuck this side of Memphis with you in a mobile home, sing:
Mother Prussia, Mother Prussia. The Way of the Gun. The Rights of the West. We dream of rain. And the mystery of the gun. We bold hold and driven apart
Kill the king when lovers depart.
We dream of rain and the setting sun. Flood lands and driven apart…
Reprise III
An ode to the sisters who show mercy…
In seventeen sixty nine a child was born
in Corsica, Genoa's former vassal state.
Prior to his birth, his land had been war-torn,
Paoli's resistance did his birth predate.
At school, his geometrical talent was inborn,
and he was tutored by none other than Laplace.
For his accent, his peers at school laughed him to scorn,
but fortune would elevate him from grass to grace.
With his much older heartthrob he tied the knot;
much to the chagrin of his own dear family.
For the heart of Josephine he relentlessly fought,
and at Chateau de Malmaison they lived happily.
Later he would choose a military career
that would take him beyond the Corsican frontier.
France's revolution saw to his glorious rise,
when at Toulon, he took royalists by surprise.
To Egypt he led a dual expedition
of a military and scientific mission.
To France he returned and sacked the directory,
taking charge of the affairs of state and treasury.
Europe did contend with him in seven coalitions;
at Austerlitz he subjugated two nations,
at Marengo, Austria on her bended knees fell,
at Jena-Auerstadt, Prussia to victory bade farewell.
At Borodino, Russia met her nemesis,
as her vanquished forces saw their paralysis.
At Ligny, Blucher like a beaten canine fled
with the terribly smitten forces he once led.
Portugal's sovereign lord to distant Brazil ran,
when like an invincible lord he came to his realm.
The emperor he feared, and made no military plan;
thus he paved the way for him to ascend his helm.
But despite his triumphs, his weakness was exposed.
At Rolica, his troops a major set back saw.
From Leipzig he did to Elba's island withdraw,
from whence in 1815 he returned unopposed.
Russia's wintry plains did his grand armee deplete,
making his troops vulnerable to a future defeat.
After the famous battles in which he gloried,
his great ambition at Waterloo was buried.
Europe my realm and my prized possession
I instill in thee our novel ideals,
for your feudal laws our conquest repeals.
Our boisterous wind of emancipation
liberates Spain from draconian inquisition.
Of the proud Brits' stupendous earning power,
an Egyptian campaign would rest the case.
I have made subservient Austria to face
defeat and lasting capitulation.
By sheer divine providence I soar
above my Italian inheritance
bequeathed by Papal authority
and placed in custody of my viceroy.
By my might, I brought to subjugation,
the recalcitrant fiefdom of Russia,
and the resilient kingdom of Prussia.
Not even Portugal dared resistance,
with her weak army debased like a toy.
But in sudden flight and rare sobriety,
her sovereign lord bowed to abdication.
As thin as water
Swimming in the rampant blood clots of ice
Lumps and warts, primordial abomination in an absinthe glass
Down in one and down with thirty. Those filthy hands
The snail paths which ooze from each digit. To touch.
To touch. Saccharine words wrapped up in sugar trails
Never close enough to the real thing to be mistaken
We are not quite short-sighted enough to blend the blurs of
Little hands; dirty bloody hands. Wash the clinging stench off
But filth will linger for an eternity under fingernails, under piers and prominade pretences
The world in a box for that one woman. A soul; a crucifix of thirty, a fine daisy
Chain of woven skins and notches, bite marks. Those apple love hearts
Miniscule in comparison. O, Greek god! The chorus calls
The angry Nazi blue, Prussia in droplets; those ink-wells of sulphur
Brilliant blonde, magnificence in porcelein. Brainwaves thin as water
Those little demons; Succubus, Siren! Lillith? Dragging at your closet walls
You whore.
_
This poem earned an Honourable Mention in the member contest "Something Wicked This Way
Comes" housed here at the soup and hosted by Deborah Guzzi. :)
Beautiful game, crazy game that draws maximum adrenalin
From hypnotized, soccer crazy minds
Glued to television screens to gobble spills and thrills from Russia with hopes lean
Driven to the brink of despair behind Venetian blinds
Betting, arguing, opposing, supporting
Non African teams that their subjective minds favour
Jibing, imbibing, consulting, insulting
African teams their fickle fantasies endeavor
To predict wouldn’t win
A single match based on mere whims
That claim an African queen
Throws her royal weight behind teams
A particular set of soccer fans deem fit
To take the day
While another set of soccer mad warmth seekers claim African teams should quit
Cos they lose and embarrass supporters everyday
With their lacklustre form
Lack of determination to spring a bit of magic
Although some supporters claim a reform
Needed to put to an end to the tragic
Performance African team display at the World Cup in Russia
Becoming whipping boys
But argues a wisecracker, ‘Shouldn’t forget Algeria beat Prussia
In Spain. So, African teams ain’t no toys.’
My maternal grandfather’s name was Gleissert
A German name from the town of Posen in Prussia
They had come to South Australia
For religious freedom in the 19th Century
I have just found out what they put up with
In The Great War and the Second World War
They were pointed out as enemy aliens
And questioned as their loyalty to Australia
I remember my mother saying that
She was taken out to the front
Of her classroom by her teacher
And paraded as a person with a German name
She said that she cried when it occurred
The teacher had delighted in her embarrassment
This occurred when her only brother
Was wearing the uniform of the Australian army
People have their reasons I suppose for doing these things
But I wonder how this sort of thing
Was patriotic in its call and what these people thought
When they were Australian by choice.
© Paul Warren Poetry
11/4/1991, KENOSHA, WI – Police say a man wearing a fake goatee burst into a restaurant and assaulted a customer. The victim asked, “Why are you wearing a fake goatee?” Police say the attacker answered, “It’s not a goatee, it’s a van dyke,” then punched him in the nose and fled.
12/9/1996, IMPERIAL BEACH, CA – Police say a man in a Buster Keeton mask burst into a restaurant and assaulted a customer. The victim asked, “Why are you wearing a Buster Keeton mask?” Police say the attacker answered, “It’s not Buster Keeton. It’s Buster Crabbe,” then punched him in the nose and fled.
6/26/1998, ODESSA, Texas – Police say a man affecting a Spanish accent burst into a restaurant and assaulted a customer. The victim asked, “Why are you affecting a Spanish accent?” Police say the attacker answered, “It’s not Spanish. It’s Catalan,” then punched him in the nose and fled.
11/25/2006, SHREVEPORT, LA – Police say a man wearing a Mitt Romney campaign button burst into a restaurant and assaulted a customer. The victim asked, “Why are you wearing a Mitt Romney campaign button?” Police say the attacker answered, “It’s not a campaign button. It’s flair,” then punched him in the nose and fled.
3/6/2007, SEATTLE, WA – Police say a man wearing a satin vest burst into a restaurant and assaulted a customer. The victim asked, “Why are you wearing a satin vest?” Police say the attacker answered, “It’s not satin. It’s velour,” then punched him in the nose and fled.
2/12/2008, VIENNA, MO – Police say a person dressed in a nun’s habit burst into a restaurant and assaulted a customer. The victim asked, “Why are you dressed in a nun’s habit?” Police say the attacker answered, “It’s not a habit. It’s a vocation,” then punched him in the nose and fled.
6/18/2009, MARLTON, NJ – Police say a person riding a scooter chair burst into a restaurant and assaulted a customer. The victim asked, “Why are you riding a scooter chair?” Police say the attacker answered, “It’s not a scooter chair. It’s a civil right,” then punched him in the nose and fled.
3/27/2010, KING of PRUSSIA, PA – Police say a person holding a bottle of urine burst into a restaurant and assaulted a customer. The victim asked, “Why are you holding a bottle of urine?” Police say the attacker answered, “It’s not urine. It’s mine,” then punched him in the nose and fled.