Best Sennacherib Poems
Dear Lord Byron
Please don't be upset
I wish to call you George
With affection and respect
The "Destruction of Sennacherib"
I was introduced to your poem
I learned it word for word
As I sat home all alone
You see George the meaning
Is much more than you know
In school I had no success
I was considered quite slow
Empowered by your words
Assyrians coming down
I spoke with true emotion
For once I wasn't a clown
When I spoke of your steed
With his nostrils all wide
Within the deep of me
I experienced pride
Like the leaves in your forest
When summer is green
You provided inspiration
I now travel where you've been
With a pen held in my hand
My destruction I escape
Within my troubled mind
New ideas take their shape
I'm gifted with freedom
Words of power do supply
Whether reading or writing
They provide me with my high
So George, I humbly thank you
You're truly the reason why
I travel within the words
They're the gift that help me fly
With anticipation
I know one day we'll meet
Beyond the gates of heaven
Please reserve for me a seat
The Father of all poets
Will speak in splendid tones
We'll marvel at his spirit
We will feel it in our bones
For poets are connected
In very intricate ways
Time is not of consequence
Our words are a form of praise
As a child when I committed Lord Byrons poem to memory,
I had no idea it was a story from the Bible. Being he was a
believer I wanted to honor both him and our God. Thanks
Monterey, I think this is a great topic for a poem. I also
chose to write in the same form as he had for "The Destruction
of Sennacherib". This was the first and only form I wrote in
prior to coming to the soup. I thank all the poets here who have
helped me grow, yourself included Monterey.
Now The Hungry Lion Roars For Release!
Darkness, the wicked devil so well uses
Farewell to the muse, she went on vacation
She walks in beauty, yet her love abuses
So we'll go no more a-roving, in elation
The destruction of Sennacherib, gone
Thou whose spell can raise the dead,
Thy days are done, bleached as whitest bone
When we two parted, I lost my damn head
Where the bee sucks, time renews in sweet birth
Who is it that says most, which can say more
Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth
Like as the waves make towards the pebbl'd shor
From fairest creatures we desire increase,
Now the hungry lion roars for release!
Marugu Mo and Robert Lindley, 4-01-2015
Marugu blog poem, added to by Robert J. Lindley
Marugu MO's Blog
BYRONS TITLES- ALMOST LIKE A POEM
Blog Posted:3/31/2016 1:45:00 AM
Lord Byron wrote the following poems, The titles almost read like a poem:
(And I dont think his muse was Sennacherib :))
1. Darkness,
2. Farewell to the muse
3. She walks in beauty,
4. So we'll go no more a-roving,
5. The destruction of Sennacherib,
6. Thou whose spell can raise the dead,
7. Thy days are done,
8. When we two parted
From Shakespeare's Titles- My ending 6 verses...
1. Where The Bee Sucks (from The Tempest)
2. Poor Soul, The Centre Of My Sinful Earth
3. Like As The Waves Make Towards The Pebbl'D Shor
4. Who Is It That Says Most, Which Can Say More
5. Sonnet I: From Fairest Creatures We Desire Increase
6. Now The Hungry Lion Roars
Emerald shiny baubles
attract wizard eyes ...
Balaam al-Oz
Assyrian acquisitions
be kryptonite-colored vanity
Ownership is an Alexandrian transaction,
a Grecian war rhetoric reaction
Gehazi greedy ...
take all that your Philistine soul see,
as much as your twelve fingers can reach
Sennacherib eyes bald eagle beady,
tilt the full treasure chest pirate empty
Hard diamond negotiator sue for peace,
brook of deceit bubbling sulfuric words acidly
Assyrian babbler
baring the saber sharp tiger teeth
Asking for more and more
shiny baubles ,
more than a Rab-shakeh heart could ever need
Baal belly lust consume:
Pure Pul gluttony, covetous Jareb vomiting
Iscariot greedy ...
betray any and everybody
for the precious metal blood money
Venusian discovery:
Jupiter begat Mars,
typical mythical anti-hero morality
Pharaoh pyramid schemes,
beryl baubles
shining in Caesar’s coffer coffin dreams
Kill the Tyrus body ... then kill the Magog zombie spirit arising:
don't vow pitbull loyalty to a low-born licentious liege
Count the death cost for the Sisera hostile takeover campaign,
calculate the Tartan war price for the protracted siege
Assyrian babbler
don’t wanna pay for the Wall
No more dead presidents
jaded green leaves gon windfall
Assyrian babbler
you’re gonna pay for the Wall
Taxing dead presidents
levee green sacks gon Jericho fall
Assyrian babbler
give the last tour of duty trump call
We text love
Text we hate
We transmit feelings
Transmit we abuse
Don’t you kiss her textually
Only to amuse?
Sennacherib emerged on the banks of Nokianvarta
And with his royal-rage cellular
Encaged the runner-Hezekiah
And sealed the fate of post offices forever!
The handset, a giant miniaturized for your palm
Keeps you composed and calm
Ethero-numerically couriering your personal psalm.
O bonsied rectangular giant
Imprisoned in the cellular container
You have rendered surface mail redundant
You have made defunct the iconic runner
A whole tribe you have buried and the letter.
O digital Aladin’s lamp
Your service of the thousand years
Your multi-task Janus-runner static
Frowns at letters as ‘snail mail’ and old pedantic
Making the warm, emotion-soaked letters dodoic.
No more does Pamela ink her pangs and passion
She just keys-in and presses ‘send’ button.
Now Obama texts, Putin texts
And Modi texts and ‘mudi’ texts
Lover texts and hater texts
You text, they text and I text
With or without pretext.
And hence Carolus Lineous
From the other end of the horizon
On a new echelon
Puts the *****erectus-
*****sapiens, the *****textus.
Underground bunker earworms
love to listen
to the Archie messaging
Rapt in their sheltered atomic blast,
dreamy past rewind,
they snore ignore
their borrowed time destiny
On a seethe countdown crawl,
they uranium breed much cesium fungi
Cloven mushroom tongues that fire breathe
pestilent spores of destruction —
Dark clouds of cellular division
is the Adam-splitting condition
that expands collapsing global economies
Jagged sandworm teeth,
with the overturned hourglass underbelly,
are insular wielding their unstable weaponry
They devour the olive green leaf of peace
with carnivorous cankerworm ease
Fear lovers of violent pleasures
take heed
Eve of extinction
comes upon the cause careless
like a thief
New Assyrian society,
oh how their Sennacherib hearts
Stone Age bleed —
The time space for repentance
is near zero,
needle point ticking
A conscience prick seems only to get
their radioactive rage attitude a-burrowing
Crawling deeper into the crass core of their cobalt being,
their wormwood deeds are Nineveh calling
There’s a cult fever chill
in the Assyrian air
Coven chants of Rabshakeh croaks
are placebo heard
‘round the alabaster oval frond
Toadie tongues swallow
swarm of fly words,
a-blowing Nineveh ill
Maggot tone larvae of lies
carried on an opiate pulse wind,
which conscience kill
Smell the fetid emanations
a-blowing siren shrill
Sickening Jareb adulation
has an electromagnetic vibration —
An idolized fealty feel
o’er a static opaque Ivory pond
Such a graven attraction!
A tubular ill wind is a-blowing:
Pinocchio sparrows
love to sniff
the parrot vespers —
This Shalman spoiled scent
is so bow, vile vapor bent
A burnt brass odor that don’t spit relent
Tempestuous Tiglath thoughts
got those sluice echo, Beth-aven tadpoles
desiring flagellated more
So woe much more
odious,
Pul windpipe pestilence
An unpalatable breeze message sent:
Let Sennacherib penny pus lips
sordid profit kiss
the covetous wound not cured
"The 'Israel of God' is finished!
We have inflicted horrific wounds,
And we terrorize them further.
Their bodies are weak and brittle.
They are useless, broken jars,
Caught in the net we hid from them.
They wail like abandoned children,
Soon death will silence them.
May they lay silent in their graves,
May their god go down with them,
May their thoughts die with them,
Like those who never lived at all!
Poisoned by their Headwaters,
Their filth dumps into the Sea,
Proving toxic to the Nations,
Defiling all that they touch.
Let us rejoice in their distress,
Let us stoke their pain and groans,
Let us wipe them from the earth,
Abolished without a second thought."
"I hear your rebellious blather!
Words of arrogance and contempt.
Your tongues of strife are hasty,
Your confidence is like spittle.
Who causes My promises to fail?
Who cuts Me off from My people?
Who surpasses My works in Creation?
Who can thwart My loyal love?!
You have stumbled into My trap!
Like Pharaoh tossed in the Red Sea,
Like Sennacherib invading Judah,
Like Satan crucifying the Christ.
I told you things before they happened,
I warned you to turn and repent,
You refused and hardened your hearts,
So My recompense will burst forth.
From every corner of the Universe,
I have summoned My retribution.
I will repay you for what you have done.
Your blood will bathe their feet!
Come and experience My vengeance,
While the faithful enjoy My salvation.
You will be held accountable,
On the day I terrorize the ungodly.
For I am angry at all the nations,
And furious with all their armies.
I will annihilate and slaughter them.
My adversaries are reduced to nothing!
Do I worry about your rebellious plans?
'I AM' is laughing at your futility.
Repent! Receive My salvation and joy.
For My loyal love endures forever."
What is logical
May not be biblical.
What is biblical
May not be logical.
Reveal man's folly!
Shame their wise!
His manifold wisdom-
Hidden in a must-read.
For in it, He says,
“I will crush their wisdom,
Sages are dumbfounded.
Behold, My open-book!
I know where you live,
And everything you do,
Either a source of comfort,
Or a cause for alarm!"
Sennacherib sent packing,
Back to Nineveh,
Back to Nisroch,
His idol could not save.
What wisdon is this?
A face full of offal,
A tail between his legs,
Struck down by his sons!
Man cannot prevail
Apart from his Maker.
Stop judging the Judge!
Make His wisdom supreme.
Limerick
A fixed light-verse form of five generally anapestic lines rhyming AABBA. Edward Lear, who popularized the form, fused the third and fourth lines into a single line with internal rhyme. Limericks are traditionally bawdy or just irreverent; see “A Young Lady of Lynn” or Lear’s “There was an Old Man with a Beard.” Browse more limericks.
Anapest
A metrical foot consisting of two unaccented syllables followed by an accented syllable. The words “underfoot” and “overcome” are anapestic. Lord Byron’s “The Destruction of Sennacherib” is written in anapestic meter.
Light verse
Whimsical poems taking forms such as limericks, nonsense poems, and double dactyls. See Edward Lear’s “The Owl and the Pussy-Cat” and Lewis Carroll’s “The Walrus and the Carpenter.” Other masters of light verse include Dorothy Parker, G.K. Chesterton, John Hollander, and Wendy Cope.
Drafted first
They are my pristine mine!
And I and the dwelling lullaby, a churn and a morn, tapped on tapioca moon
I and my wind catcher tinge, a chant, a hum, a mundane shenanigan , croon
They shun, they strum, they swing, on strings of the mood of poetic erotica , forever a poem and gore
As they play along with Brinjal, scalpel, or another synonym of ladies finger, those and all the more
I close my fingers , intertwined, my pristine raindrops, before a line, else to noon!