Best Redoubt Poems
You never told me you didn’t really ever love me,
I can’t believe how crass and cruel you could be.
What possessed you my Darlin’ to act as such,
When I loved and cared for you—oh so very much!
Our love was always something quite bold and unique,
Your voice, touch, scent, smile formed this very mystique.
You beguiled me ever with your false expressions of trust,
Only to go elsewhere to satisfy your desires of carnal lust.
I once felt we were on top of the world with a love oh so rare,
Only to find our love’s a cruel joke and this I can never bear!
With this my very hopes and dreams burn in a fiery storm of doubt,
And your actions my dear sweet Darlin’ only double my redoubt!
Our emotions, passions, joy, and warmth now are nevermore,
As I stare into this frightful chasm of despair I can only abhor!
My soul now cries out in a raging storm of outrage and fury,
And you my Darlin’ no longer deserve my love—only my fury!
I once gave you my true love and boundless passion from my heart,
Only to see you laugh and ridicule my very feelings from the start!
And so now my Darlin’ it’s your turn to cry and feel sublime despair,
As you realize my love and feeling for you are gone and I no more care!
You never told me you didn’t really ever love me,
I can’t believe how crass and cruel you could be.
What possessed you my Darlin’ to act as such,
When I loved and cared for you—oh so very much!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
(November 15, 2014) (Rhymed Lyric)
(Victorian artist William Holman Hunt was
both attracted and repelled by his models)
Can we agree that, terrified of sex,
Hunt couldn’t help but hunt it, seek it out?
There doesn’t seem to be a shred of doubt.
He felt his women exercised some hex,
conspiracy throughout the lower decks,
full frontal on his Puritan redoubt!
He hated what he couldn’t live without
(the only punter in the multiplex).
And Annie, Fanny, Edith – on they came,
alluring, curing, reassuring, fey,
and Hunt (who fastened fast on blame and shame)
was racked by guilt and had to run away.
Another mantis, but the same old prey,
(mixed metaphor) Hunt headed for the flame.
Tis quite a beast of burden to bear atlas (shrug off not allowed)
Atlas shrugged an impossibility
tantamount to skinny dipping in the lock nest lagoon
Tantamount to shrugging Atlas off mine bony,
ill suited, widower wizened shoulders,
would take naked fat chance in Fountain Head of virgin waters,
eddy fied with huge boulders
which preliminary sketches to maintain pristine
(pure as Snow White's booty) kept in folders
when collaborative effort called, the fore mid able,
trio, sans state of the artists
(within their respective trades as writer
fictional hero, and architect)
Ayn Rand, John Galt, and Howard Roark,
who undertook resplendent measures
affected resilient as omnipotent cable
tub ring plenti kickstarting linkedin gatecrashers
to a snapchatting halt
instagramming, crowdsourcing, crowdfunding,
held at equivalent asper Bay of Pigs
viz Pay of Bigs
(in this context identified as
(vudu trained stalwarts, petsmart outlook,
incorporating literary, metaphorical,
nautical staff comprising fable
sea Crete cure metamorphoses abilities, as failsafe method –
i.e., physically, instantaneously, architecturally rendering
modus operandi capacity asper quick as blazing saddles
(ponied up by young Frankenstein)
kept in fireproof stable,
where at dextrous fingers ala hocus-pocus prestidigitation
which chiefly buoyantly ardently, and hardily drafted imp pier re: hull
rock hull impediment for shore also cast evil spells should
any foolish soul, who dared
to maneuver past the near blinding pier sing redoubt
to access blue lagoon like watery oasis
shielded via reeking poor Island
(where an atomic rooster gargoyle shrouded parapet)
buffeted the crashing waves against
the lock smooth as a glass table
whose wooden sea legs solidly affixed
to hip, hip hooray three chairs
inviting two story book heroes plus the author,
unfurling parchment scriptural roles invited ad lib flairs
since threat of category five hurricane
manifested took writer by surprise,
thus requiring her to utilize cognitive gears
which necessitated modification of original plot,
now bumped credos with religion
vis a vis engendering prayers.
Sagebrush
Windy redoubt
Green sentinels shielding
Enfilading rays pound ramparts
Stagecoach
barren palisade
horned rams prance rocky redoubt
wolf pack scales rampart
ocean stirs salt mist
vapor shield shrouds firmament
brackish mail cloaks town
subdued alpine slope
blanched flock servile bleating sheep
shepherd's virile staff
Itinerant mercenary shrouded with penitent robe
Shining beacon for terrorists around the globe
Hermetic curmudgeon; gun-toting xenophobe
Zealous provacateur who for ardent jihadists did probe
Material wealth a means; establishing a caliphate the end
Seeking Arab-royalty's, sovereign-sheikdoms to rend
Scourge of terror to blight all that western values defend
Sharia law to govern Middle East; Allah's dividend
Great Satan's engine to throttle
Region's fealty to bottle
Suicide pilots struck the monuments we coddle
Gratuitious shards and blood stains did the landscape mottle
President Bush promised swift revenge
Ordered Taliban to stop Osama's bloody binge
Mullah Omar reneged; Bushes' saber rattling had a malodorous tinge
U.S forces did the Taliban's quarters singe
Alquaida's overseas operations are diminished
But Alquaida's mission not finished
Alquaida cells in Iraq, Afghanistan bravely battle, mettle distinguished
Nevertheless, the infidel forces not extinguished
Gitmo detainees probed for information
Trite torture brought about stunning reformation
Stressed warrior's fealty to leader declined in isolated station
Under duration, divulged details about Bin Laden's method of operation
Osama's couriers cover blown
Seeds for fruitful harvest are sown
Courier's redoubt canvassed with satellite, drone
Intelligence on compound, residents CIA did hone
Calculated risk; Navy Seals in choppers did alight
Flying quietly with fiery portents into the calm night
Hoping the briny tentacles of terror to blight
Cresting over the shadowy compound; objective in sight
Down the dangling ladders vigilant Seals did repel
Into the throes of darkness descending into the mouth of hell
Perimeter defense, early warning signals were of no avail
Osama's stunned tenants could only stand fast or bail
Each obstacle, human shield the Seals did meticulously fell
Carefully following the trail to the Holy Grail
Entering Osama's room, rending the sacral veil
The caged warrior with precision did shell
Osama's dead body packed in a unmarked crate
Transported vicariously to lab, identity to equate
Identity confirmed; vigilant menace had met his fate
Un-consecrated remains tossed into sea; watery tomb his final estate
And when the sky turned light and rosy
All started fussy fast and noisy,
Line by the line had shown.
Our colonel’s born as dashing fellow,
Tsar’s servant; dad for soldiers. Bellow
spread after wound – not voice of cello,
So pity, now he’s gone.
He told us with the eyes of fire:
“Guys! Moscow is behind” and prayer
said for Moscow here we’ll die
like our Brothers in Arms were dying
And we gave oath without the lying,
We kept it truly without crying,
Borodino, good-bye!
Oh, what a day, through smoke of battle,
French went like clouds and it was fatal
For our poor redoubt.
Uhlans with their motley badges,
Dragoons with horse-tales; dust and ashes;
They all were here on wings of vengeance,
They flashed and they went out.
You’ll never see the fight like ours!..
There were the shades and flying banners,
The blaze had seemed through smoke,
Damask was singing, case-shot’s squealing,
The warrior’s arm had tired of killing,
Balls couldn’t fly through bodies thrilling,
We couldn’t even walk.
The foe had known the rage and power
Of Russian combat in bad hour,
What does it mean – dogfight!..
With jolt of earth our chests were shaking,
A thousand volleys merged in aching
howl; horses, people were making
Blood mass before the night.
It became dark, but we were ready
Since morning stand against them steady
Again, until the end…
Drums rattled, enemy retreated,
We started count the wounds, we did it,
We were so tired, but undefeated,
All had his parish friend.
It was the time there were the people,
The modern tribe looks like some cripple,
They’re Heroes they’re not you.
Their fate is bad their fate is sorry
Not many had returned with glory,
God will be done and our story
Left Moscow beauteous view.
P.S. This is my translation of poem by Mikhail Lermontov
In a tranquil valley with banks dark and deep
Silted streams into dreary conduits seep
Shadows bearing yesterday's light on addled walls creep
Images from the dark recesses around each corner peep
Enchanting winds over the heightened senses do sweep
Animated figures from the bleary crevasses leap
Sorrowful clouds hover; o'er conscience penitent tears weep
In foggy redoubt, guarded fears and insecurities do heap
Guv, tell me, not without the reason
our Moscow in the fired treason
was burnt and left for French.
Oh, there were fights I see their splendours
so awesome and we have the embers,
No wonder Russia still remembers
Borodino’s black trench!
It was the time there were the people,
The modern tribe looks like some cripple,
They’re Heroes they’re not you.
Their fate is bad their fate is sorry:
Not many had returned with glory,
God will be done and our story
left Moscow beauteous view.
We were retreating long and silent
So sad we waited fight and quiet
The old men grumble so:
What? Winter quarters willy-nilly?
Can chiefs tear up strange tunics killing
with Russian bayonets and feeling
that French would have to go?
And field was found: it’s large and ample
There was the space to walk or trample
Then we had built redoubt.
We kept our head; it is warning,
The cannons lightened with the morning,
Crowns of blue trees were full of dawning,
The French’s right here; they’re proud.
I put the ball in cannon tightly,
I thought I will regale “friend” lightly,
Oh, little wait, monsieur.
Do not be cunning, soldiers. Action!
We’ll go as wall against their faction,
We will stand head and shoulders. Passion!
For Motherland, hell yeah!
There were two days of endless shooting,
I saw no point in this duty,
Third day we waited for.
The speeches were among blood splashing:
“It’s time for case-shot for the smashing!”
And night fell down on field of slashing
with shadow pausing war.
I lay to sleep near carriege boring,
I heard that French exults for morning
over the battlefield.
Our bivouac was very quiet
Some cleaned his shako after riot,
Some sharpened bayonet untired
Biting moustache and chilled.
P.S. This is my translation of poem by Mikhail Lermontov.
gratifying grand PooBah gnashing happily. How envious
eye feel. This generic guy hallucinates (walled within his
lovely bones) incredulously, jealously, knowing lackluster
marriage never ordained plentifully, quintessentially, royally,
satisfying throbbing testosterone undulating vibrantly within
xman yawping zen. Ah know this phallus fantasy tubby
merely a whet pipe dream, yet no logic can extirpate
frenziedly gyrations glum husband images. Just kindling
lasciviousness massages nude oeuvre provoking quaking,
rip-snorting tooling uniting Venus, with xing yummy zone,
absolute beauties, bunnies cozying dear Emir, fathering
Hugh's illustrious joys, keeping libido murmuring, nesting
on papa's queued rocket ship, thrusting uber vintage weasel,
*** y zapping adroitly buoyant consecrated dick, Ernst
found Grafenberg hallelujah, injunction jerking like mad
naturally oiled pussy, quivering red redoubt stimulated
the unavoidable Vagina, whereat xyz attainment brought
******** delight eventually fomenting gusto, heavenly
induced juiced Kung Lee masterfully negotiating ******,
penultimate quest regarding sexual torquing, ululating
vocalization wailing women XCI yogi Zorro
absent, bye Casanova, deemed expert ******** great Hefner,
honorable Hugh invictus, joyousness kept legacy maintained,
now...only phantom quietly rubs shoulders, thighs, ubiquity
vibrant viz World Wide Web.
Dense implosion of infinite desire
Dead to the sensual stirrings
Events search
Stretch for eager horizons
Blackness
Blackens the mood and raises spirits
Times spaces
Interregnums of intense longing
Hang limply on half uttered words
Pleading eyes call to the stars
Summon the traveling muse
Half dead moons and resurrecting galaxies
Milky in ways you cannot imagine
Gravity
Pulls with inimitable redoubt
Rotating doors of wondrous probing
Earth fire is molten
Baking the inner sanctums
Raising internal set points
Feverish flourish of action
Gyrating to the fulsome Rhumba
Peppering staccato of Saturdays
Dancing delirious
Exorcising gargantuan ghosts
Of tall imposing dreams
Sun's rays glint through the glistening pines
Residual moisture imbibes the fawning heat
A cloak of needles hovers over the clandestine copse
Fertile fortress clothes the stunted flora
A whispering breeze bristles through the jaded cones
Resinous scent blankets the blanched meadow
Fondling fungus shrouds the damp floor
Glittering flora splices the distant, tawny terraces
Frothy owls hoot above the hoary mist
Foraging squirrels funnel through the fallen, nutty residue
Hollow bark clamors with the jackhammers of restive peckers
Decaying mantle rattles with the sounds of boring beetles
Cackling turkeys scour the ridges for autumn's latent seeds
Petulant peccaries prat and preen through the bleached undergrowth
Earth-toned stags nestle in the deep thickets
Rippling brook gurgles through the sunken hollow
Bugle resounds call for another fateful charge
Bands of soldiers toward the fortified ridge barge
Enfilading fire from cannons fiery portents discharge
Infantry ranks decimated from center to marge
Wave after wave crest up the rocky redoubt
O'er boulders, mounds their heels dutifully plow
Nourishing with their blood a field so fallow
Trite fodder on a temporal battle strand; sacrificial lambs noble
cause to hallow
Ruddy lads searing in the scorching sun; faces sunk, complexion's
sallow
Surrendering all future hope; boyish dreams in dying hearts so
callow
Precious resources drained from a reservoir so shallow
Southern heroes ressurected and romanticized on nouveau tableau