Best Sigma Poems
"Polaris Sigma Octantis"
hypnotised
we look to the heavens
a sky full of hope
to chart a course
home
which one?
where to begin?
in such a dazzling
kaleidoscope
Alpha Ursae Minoris
the bright northern star
intercepts our vision
we are lost in the
grandest theurgy, magnetised,
illuminating steadfast beacon
poles apart
ensconced in darkness
a silent watcher
barely visible to the eye
Sigma Octantis
outshone
almost motionless
waits to be called
some other time
some other Morning
the See
is bedevilled
like a heart has its storms
like a mind has its imagination
the ship must list eventually
swim, sink or
walk on water
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
“The moving Moon went up the sky,
And no where did abide:
Softly she was going up,
And a star or two beside”
their is a train
who shipments rely
who deliverest
for us all
on this train
who supplies
these counterfeiters
double-cross us all
they take from peter
to give to paul
casears men
hide in bushes
to overtake
these wicked souls
the Damsel is distressed
the conducter see's her
he stops the train
to help her out
yet be hold
the white hats stand by
what is this
their being duked by they're own
he crosses-lines
to become the bad-guy
they grab the lute
and then there gone
days and days
the white-hats searchest
they go from town to town
til their wires sent
100 white hats
are ah proaching
the nerves of the blackhats
are made of steel
they hide the loot in the green barn
the equipment they took
is stored their too
the storms a raging
it causes delays
the black-hats
ride thru out the storm
the white-hats stop
to talk to Jesus
they don't know their prayers heard
Superman traveled
thru a time portal
he heard the prayers
and answered for Jesus
he grabs the Loot
and recovers the storage
he save the day
while the white-hats pray!
Copyrighted to the Choir of Space Church..#000 A>D Roma- Lover and PaciCorp. Speak whispers and pray to Jesus. Made the church-folk angry that these secular-sinners drank whiskey and spoke ill of Jesus!" tales sung by the exaggerating Heathen, " a letter to the glassy-eyed Hussy"
Song's of Caesar, the band of Gypyes, and a hickory axle-ed wagon, with two oxen pulling it! From the Theme of Hypacroties, " I am a Hippocrite" written by Duldo Griffie, 2109, on the Quadro Space Vessel , Sigma Rocket IIV!
Who is Bizzarro?" a song by Pinklipp and LadyPhatt- Bottom!
SHE SUM THANG LIKE JAMMA LAMMA
JAMMA LAMMA DEW1
she lovey dilly, doo- woop, samma lamma too!
she get gritty, grindin' getty-up ya'll know dat
she doo!
she get's jamma lamma, dop- do didhe too!
can't she wanna do, ever clever
ya'll know dat she do!
she get's down and gritty
grindin that fitty- sexy body too!
like the trophy she don't she real shiney
she's ah winner too!
she get's down, and jamma lamma
doop dew witty dew !
men day love her
she won night them
ya'll know what she do
she sip
he paid it
lamenated
swap numbers too
they meet getty
get down real gritty
he like what she do!
they get down jamma lamma
down to samppa
she get down jamma lamma too!
soo down jamma lamma
down to samppa
taste the that taste good too
she like down jamma lamma
to up dat jamma lamma
she get down didgo too!
Are you? He asked.
What? She replied.
Six Sigma Certified? He asked.
Why, no. She replied.
Are you? She asked.
Yes, definitely! He replied.
Should I be? She asked.
Yes! - He replied - You should be!
Why should I be? She asked.
Well, - He replied -
Utterly frustrated with her question -
How can we possibly talk to each other
If you are not certifiable?
“Sigma”
It’s a deviant world
a lone wolf finds a place to fit in;
it’s pure poetry, war
heroes dance ducksteps with the romance of it all
some rise, they return home to other meaningless battles
some fall, looking for greener grass and their God
some do not return at all
they find it better to escape
they drift off dissolving into other better or terrible worlds
it’s hard poetry, the romance of war
when you hit the revelation wall;
prayers unspoken sleep,
demons
with their promise of salvation
return
they are put to bed
roughly, like a whore
adorned in slippery satin ribbons of red
masks now removed
snow like medication breathed in
dreams like opium warm the cold veins
pierce everything
like a bayonet
shut out the din
flood an enlarged heart
with all its kintsugi cracks seeping honey and sin
smiling grimly the good humour well-hidden
heroes dream of taking the lead
the quiet broken, dimly lit pawns
avoid the gun-fire and blistering burn of noisy shadows
ptsd survivors
like voiceless poets,
sometimes rise instead
ruling deeply over outranked warriors
CandideDiderot ‘25
"...When you come home
I'll bake you a cake
Made of all their eyes
I wish you could see me
Dressed for the kill
You're my man of war
You're my man of war..."
Cling not, to currents of kleptocracy.
Seek not, slithering shortcuts.
Like molding wood in molten guts -
Revolutionary, make that your story.
Slanderous slogans of snakes
dull deep, deaden desires.
Drudging dogma deludes the mind,
souls shattered, silenced in stupidity.
No magic mantras maketh life,
metal mentality striking strife.
The wills of wills travel far
above belligerence and bars.
Embrace death, you do not, before time.
Embrace death, you do not, for crime.
Beyond cataclysm, behold chances.
Seek forth wisdom and esperances.