Best Stridently Poems
Zika Virus What Next
It is officially announced, there is a global health emergency...
World Health Organisation (WHO) has just issued this health warning...
The rapid spread of the Zika Virus is an international public health emergency..
From its first outbreak was detected in Brazil in May last year...
This mosquito borne disease now threatens in more than 20 countries....
Latest to join the strickened Latin American countries are Costa Rica and Jamaica.
The science behind the global outbreak of this disease is of much concern...
For the Zika Virus was first encountered in a rhesus macaque monkey in Uganda..
It is very worrisome, for this disease has jumped from animals to humans...
The rapid spread was in part due to the lack of immunity in our species...
It is after all a virus that profilerated before only in the monkey species....
Its drastic spread in the Latin Americans now necessitates travel advisories...
Once afflicted, a human victim suffers 2-7 days of low grade fever, joint pains..
No fatalities yet, but symptomatic patients suffers a facial rash that spreads ...
Diagnosis is tricky, its symptons easily confused with other mosquito diseases...
But the greatest danger is threat of brain damage and microcephaly in new born babies...
And the spread of the virus through sexual contact and the blood stream is for real...
Prevention is better than cure, so is precaution before things get out of hand..
The common denominator in the rapid widespread of this scourge is a pesky insect...
One tiny little hellish insect with little wings that stridently brings victims into contact...
A little nip from an infected insect, the Zika virus is introduced into the victim's blood stream..
This dangerous little pesky insect is none other than the common mosquito...
To be specific it is the tiger stripped and blood thirsty Aedes mosquito...
Prevalently found in early morning hours and in the late afternoon daylight hours ...
Get the bug spray, the insect repellant and out with the electric killer bat...
Do whatever it takes, so long you escape from the irritating mosquito bites..
Kill the Aedes mosquitoes, and save yourself from Zika, dengue or chingkunya virus...
http://www.webmd.com/news/20160203/zika-microcephaly-link
http://www.futurity.org/zika-microcephaly-1115772-2/
Mells' Bells.
Not far from a little town in Somerset called Wells
there's a quiet little village, that's name is Mells
the wild garlic grows in abundance there, and stridently smells
But the peace is shattered each Sunday by bells
Mells' bells, Mells bells,
Oh God they're so loud,
Those great bells of Mells
That ring out so proud.
The noise is so loud the church uses shutters,
To suppress the great volume lest the vicar's heart flutters
And to stop a misery down Radstock who complains and mutters,
And to save those in Green lane, Devizes, as it upsets the "nutters".
Mells Bells, Mells bells,
Oh how they thunder,
Those great bells of Mells,
Rip eardrums asunder.
So beware all you travelers, down Somerset way,
Lest you venture near Radstock upon a Sunday,
Best take your earplugs to wear there they say,
'Cos the Mells bells are well hell, despite what you pray.
Mells Bells, Mells bells,
They'll make you deaf,
Those great bells of Mells
Rung by ringers so deft
(c) Ian Diddams 2018
OVER RAIN RAINBOWS REIGN SUPREME
Glimpsed from an isolated island was freedom afar
Afar yet ever closer than the nearest star
There were tall green trees amidst supple and serene scenarios
Never a winter’s frost nor ever a freeze of ferenheit zeroes
From afar I espied a land with arms opened wide
Yet I was deemed damned and defied
then denied by the detriment of stagnation
With assignation resigned to and reigned over by an abomination
Freedom afar flaunted its finery with forests filled by fancy feathers
Multicolored rainbow wings of grace and bells that ring of fair weathers
Coconuts, cocoa beans and chicken coco van
Where freedom is found for a most fortunate man
Alas, within the arms of an island was I stridently stranded
While with freedom flew those rainbow wings that ever so gracefully landed
Lest that island free my soul would its determination not reach its goal
And I would be willed to woe and worry on the whole
Yet stood afar a fantasy by night shone well its neon light
And I to only imagine such of freedom’s flight
Futile it would be to fight and flail my arms against the tide
Having been so efficiently denied and thusly defiantly defied
And still afar stands a forest with its rainbow wings aglow
As I upon an island stand with no freedom e’re to know
Nor a choice as to where and how I should one day go
on an island where wicked winds are withered not to blow
© 2013…copyright PHREEPOETREE..~free cee!~
Oh the angels above,
We dance in their interlude.
We walk stridently with worried eyes.
We know the party is almost over.
Though the twist and turns of our body tell us
The night cries on and on.
sun, moon pause at fork
moon stridently stands his ground
black pall earth does spite
so two deviant demented souls decided to fill a van with fertilizer and magically and tragically turn that mini-van into a mighty bomb, park it near a a building housing human beings and suddenly a helpless daycare center laden with little tykes within and everyone else were atomized
and i'm certain timmy wasn't the bit surprised
so two abstractly obtuse souls came to kill
but i guess that was your god's will
so two sordid souls decided to tote guns into where guns don't belong and take out their twisted and misdirected anger on some innocent students studying stridently to achieve advancement when semi-automatic guns started screaming of death is specious terms. and in the end teachers and students alike, innocents all, lay dead or woefully wounded of body and mind
ah, but there are none so blind....
two psychologically scarred psyches came with innocent blood to spill
ah, but i suppose that was your god's will
so these two singular souls found each other within the wide world and then courting began with a cute little curtsey and dating with delight until one night upon his knee a man came to urgently urge a woman to become his and his alone. things progressed effervescently brightly until one night when something so willfully wrong occurred . alask, that's when the gentleman's sperm found their way to the woman's oval ovum and collided with an ergonomically shaped egg and nine months later the woman gave birth to a travesty
and that particular tragedy would become a me
so sex and sperm segued into human swill
but i suppose that was your sick god's fu**i*g will
(c) 2012..PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~
Anyways, this fella an’ me, we were on a rhyme-spree.
“Bob, ” I asked, “to what now do you aspire?”
To which he replied, in a drawl slow as a wet week,
”A spire? A place no man can dwell”.
This was going to be a long ride, I could tell.
“No, Bob,” said I, wanting to make myself quite clear,
“what I mean to say is: where do you go from here? And
Not just in the geographical sense,
Though in that I have an interest as well.”
To which he replied most cryptically
“Interest compounds! Fate confounds!”
- a pronouncement with which I could not argue.
Not understanding its import in the least,
I just nodded as if to concur with this profundity
and once again ventured to elicit
an intelligible response to my enquiry, to wit:
what it was indeed that drove him onwards.
“What I mean to ask, Bob,
What it is I am seeking
Is simply to know where it is
You’re intending to go from here?”
To which he replied quite stridently
“I ain’t goin’ anywheres that I know of,
But you are surely welcome to string along.”
At this point I could not but help from thinking
That he was thinking this was a song.
“That I would very much like to do, Bob,
“And try to be good company.”
Straightaway I regretted my presumption
That I could be a welcomed
traveling companion of his.
“There’s no good company anymore,” he opined,
Pressing hard down on the throttle,
“we passed the last one way back a-piece –
Now kindly do pass me that bottle.”
A quivering shadow shrouding a clouded pane
Shared pain scribbled in the doleful rain
Hollow words that broker heartache and disdain
A sorrowful whistle emanating from a distant train
Poorly trained recruits struggling above the furor to remain
Stridently striving nation's honor to uphold; but only vitriol,
criticism obtain
Sacrificial fodder sheared of its free-flowing mane
Pared of hope; left only with the incalculable strain
Stationed in a humid hovel that every ounce of stamina doth drain
Surrounded by enemies who fealty and allegiance feign
Fighting to defend a people tethered to a weak, tenuous chain
Serving under commanders who constantly seek fallow grounds to
regain
Sacrificial lambs whose blood the unforgiving terrain doth stain
Seeking a wily, amorphous foe in a borderless territory to contain
Reconnoitering through boundless jungles that equally beauty and
poison contain
Searching for 'guerillas in the mist', but only marauders and
malcontents detain
Scouring villages for contraband; arbitrary jury distributing pain
Showered with toxic chemicals that clear our paths but our lungs
restrain
Conditioned to violence as barbaric, torture devices many
comrades have slain
Transporting the liberal vices of burgeoning social revolution to a
frugaler domain
Satiating the lonely days; secluded nights with: booze, barbiturates
and cocaine
Surviving a hostile conflict where sanity seemed to constantly ebb
then wane
Trite conscripts whose epitaph will read, 'Every battle objective
gained, but the national will could not retain'.
Gut-wrenching tears flow in torrents,
swathe of spasmodic gulp and shiver,
I weep stridently when haunted,
by moonlight ghost resemblance,
to my dead cousin, fleeting angel,
halo an eerie nocturnal cloud rim,
shrouded in haze of mournful rupture,
our deepest wounds precede the grim,
acknowledgement of threadbare memory,
feeble consolation as we quietly sulk.
to dull persistent angst with fond ephemera,
evanescent meek recall from bygone echo,
funeral cortège hymn neath mortal passage,
solemn midnight clan’s shuffle lachrymose
Moonlight creeps through the writhing woodland as
Arion walks alongside me—upward toward the lone mountain.
We had trekked for miles and the way was wearisome,
heavy fog in its obscuring fidelity stalking our every step.
Winds shrieked around us like dissonant flutes—
high pitched, fortissimo screams that died in
and died out dismally.
They reminded me of my own undulating doubts
manifesting into fits of malignant mess—
but the steady sound of our unified steps
soothed my panicking heart—tears flower
my eyes, dropping like dew.
Soon—as many storms do—
the winds died away along with my fears.
That is when the mockingbird
began to stridently trill in the distance,
its venting variations vaguely familiar.
Arion and I stopped in a flat clearing, stunned by its clarity,
listening intently to her songs.
Timelessness touched the forest
as melodies touched our hearts.
When her trills ceased, I first witnessed
the tears of my loyal companion.
Somehow, they made him younger and freer.
Excitement sprouted from his eyes
like wildflowers witnessing their first dawn.
He wiped the tears away with his sleeve
and beamed like a sunrise.
“For just one moment—one moment,
she sounded like my mother,” he stammered.
I grasped his hands and held them to my heart.
Arion looked up to the sky, above the circle of trees,
as if he recognized a face in the midnight expanse.
We made a camp and settled silently in the clearing.
The last thing we remember before closing our eyes
was the overhead flutter of shadowed wings
and a gentle sigh beyond the pines.
(note: this is the third part of an epic about Arion I shared a while ago. The first and second pieces are “Little Glistening Salmon” and “Ocarina Steps”)
I could feel the rhythm of my obscure
thoughts in sync
sturdy scrutiny, into the mirror
I glimpse deeply in the
reflection of the nymph
somehow I outwit the quixotic
hold of the sylph,
frightened to my demise,
tons of strength fills my belly,
blinking lights, driving under the influence of my mind
You!
you ruined everything,
I'm not in the position to connect
or link to you no more,
no! I'd never use me this woefully
i’d never use me this poppy
but you did!
you Did!!
you stopped before we even proceeded
You were my everything,
my everything!
still you mortified me horrifically
you neglected our tryst,
don’t!
don’t try convincing me to feel better,
you built my moments yours
left me in the cold
I remember every lie you notified me with,
crushed my hopes with thunderstorm,
pushed my stoicism without no thinking,
rejected my Lips and kiss like cancer,
I curse the day I thought forever,
you moved me into inferno,
let me inquire one more time
Do you ever think of me?
shhh! shhh! lies! lies!!
I stridently oppose those professed fibs
they seem untrue
wait! my confusion is your continuous lifestyle
in untruthfulness
You split my bosom in seconds
left me in 2
I detest you!
I detest how you lived without me
I hooked you when you cut down
I smiled when they jested
held you by the kneels, put you right back on edge
still, you picked the nerve to pull out on me
you quit on me?
Exploiting yet preying on me?
how do you feel?
no! do not dodge
Respond to me, how do you feel now?
did you think you could live without me?
Ugh, this sunrise encounter is terrible
with you here
i’m Completely
Buggered Now, You Should Forget Me.
Zip It.
("Snake II", 2015, original block print)
Gaslit
In these times of constant parading
The emperor in his new gown
Sets the fashion for the whole world
Everywhere you look
People blindly proclaiming the nakedly absurd
With confidence born in numbers.
Now basic biological facts of male and female
Have morphed into a fluid nonbinary
Mishmash of possibilities, where instead of in balance
Nurture is stridently mightier than nature.
Not withstanding, tropes of masculine violence somehow immune
To this new social-science,
People who’ve apparently never had house pets
Postulate that in world without males there’d be no violence.
What used to be common sense observation for even a child
That racial differences are obvious, if not so easily defined,
Have become the dogma;
“Race is merely a social construct.”
On the climate front all is hysteria
As what used to be an essential sustainer of life
Is rebranded a toxic gas
Existentially threatening to end all life on Earth.
And in politics, mild protest has become insurrection,
Terrorist attacks embraced as the democratic process,
And the sanctity and security of our vote
Chewed up by a machine that knows no law or shame.
Now the new Nazis call themselves the “Anti-Fascists”
And of course brand all opponents “Nazis”
As if name-calling makes something so
In their make-believe post-modern world of subjective truth.
Hate is love, war is peace
Rigid conformity diversity, destruction creativity,
Abortion the path to modern motherhood
And enslavement to ideology somehow freedom.
These are the times we live in
When gaslighting has replaced the news, entertainment and education
And objective truth driven underground or out into a desert
Away from the masses
Where it can be as it always has, untrodden and free
Yet as deadly as ever to those who refuse to see.
(12/2/23)
Gorgeous, the morning had been,
Before the day became frantic;
Clouds amassed.
My eyes and ears witnessed.
Rains’ harbingers landed on my skin;
Drops of rains but not rain, I whispered to me.
Darker and darker, the clouds grew.
From time to time, roars I heard.
Faster and faster, the day ran;
And so were the dark skies.
Looming, the evening smelled.
All birds had lobbed into trees.
Like prophets, jeopardy they noticed.
Noisily dancing, the trees were;
Whistling stridently, the wind was.
And lightening impaled the murky clouds
Only me to see leaves and dust climbing high;
Winds to heave stronger and upper above,
The skies started bathing me.
Shelter nowhere to find anymore.
Late it was, the world started tumbling on me;
Hefty and late, it was for me to move.
Down I sat to reminisce the harbinger;
My face in my knees, I buried.
But alas, she had heavily parked on me!
Poem by Ndabuli Mugisho
To fight or flight, one must think.
For is it wise to speak truth to backs of the ignorant,
Or rather stand by as the racing river stridently does rampage?
Impossible it is, despite destruction of his crops, to cease the never-ending .
Lies force a watcher if exists maturity- a defiant childish fighter if blinded in emotion.
Truth, shall one fight never to stand for insolence of man,
Or do bells of justice remain silent as the unworthy parades forth?
This is the dilemma- the very crisis- which makes man stop and pace.
To flight. To back away, tail between the legs defeated when not,
Watching lines of liars’ disciples strutting in robes of cheap fabrics as an imposturous
elite.
The truth becomes buried in the mind of a fallen king.
BRUCE, HOLIDAY OR JOPLIN?
Just another genius junkie
Someone’s master and someone else's flunky
Just another genius junkie, man
Building crosses while cursing the inevitability of a plague
Writers both vehement and anything but vague
Some of them whose rhymes fell upon deafened ears until one fluent in his language finally dug deep enough into the meanderings and masquerade of his mind to find………………
Just another genius junkie, man
All of them stringing words stridently together so as to weave a web of contradictions…….
All of them with assorted and sundry addictions
Those who waded the rapid waters of a psyche wounded by worry and worried about the wounded
Pundits in pulpits
Puppets in public places
Standing on their soapbox wrought of metal keys and a thin ribbon of ink
But don’t blink
Because if you do you might go blind
Or then again you just might find………………
Just another genius junkie………………….
They didn’t roll away the stone……..
They can only describe, with excruciating exactitude, the rising of His Holy Ghost
Those wiser and infinitely more insightful than most…………………
That one made us laugh by invading the truth with his dirty words and paid the ultimate price for doing what he did to urge us forward despite our slightly embarrassed laughter
She made us cry by invading her veins with a vicious need to wave away the woe while slinging a bottle of whiskey and singing as if she knew that people like us who would kneel reverently at the alter of her song needed to hear her voice raised in majesty by a lady who ultimately proved there really is no forever after
Those defined by that which is strewn and stranded far behind
All of the conflicted who, to self-inflicted misery, were inclined
Because if you read deep enough into the fragmentary thoughts scribed onto page, or listen closely enough to a song of rage heralding a heresy, or accept a few dirty words as fundamental to the facts brought forth and quite succinctly said
dig deep enough and you’ll find just another genius junkie……………………
Just another genius junkie now so needlessly dead
© 2012……PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~