Best Towering Poems
Etched in history, 23rd March 2015 marks the death of an architect of a small country..
When he passed away, Lee Kuan Yew left behind Singapore a most vibrant country..
His was 7 days of mourning to mark the passing for this towering personality....
It was only proper seeing how greatly this one man had steered his country....
Here in Malaysia, we look around for one of such a gigantic stature...
Though history tells us of Dr Mahathir and of his performance as Prime Minister..
Although the facts of history tell of his iron fist rule since day one...
This write is not to belittle Malaysia nor its patriarch of a Prime Minister..
Neither is it to praise the wonders of his 22 years that he administered. .
Rather this piece is a small effort to mark the passing of one statesman...
With supreme farsight and exemplary principles that answers to no man..
Save his beloved subjects in a brave little nation called Singapore...
Bereft of rich natural resources, this brave nation would have been poor...
Until up stood this man with an unwavering belief in pursuing the best...
Declaring Singapore has not the time to pause for poetry or the rest...
"Good, better, best, never let it rest, 'Til your good is better and your better, best"..
That in essence sums up how a tiny nation stewarded by an indominable Lee Kuan Yew...
Managed to outpaced the rest of the world to launch a tiny nation born anew..!
Rest in peace, O great man now that you're done on the earth...
Nations all world all over will rightly mark your passing here on earth...
This passing on of a visionary statesman who catapulted Singapore to greatness...
Leaves all of Singapore mourning your loss with unfathomable pain and sadness...
The world all over sings high praises of this extraordinary man of vision...
Rest in peace O Great One , you have well earned your place in Heavens..
I dream of Earth, like a prophecy,
A towering vision of trees,
For climate change, we might,
Create gardens of earthy delights,
To preserve us all from endless nights,
If we don't, we could all be out of sight,
Our atmosphere could disappear,
Nothing and no one left around here,
Imagine forests of oxygen to breathe,
A towering vision of trees........
Stripped from Fall's shearing
naked
she sighs
she groans
As winter's wild wind
has his way with her.
Stronger than you,
am I, boasts wind,
his tempestuous howling screams
hitting hapless Lady Maple
with reckless gusts of power.
So be I, at times,
in between seasons
in storming times
tossed about
As wind barrens me
catches me again
in winter's despair.
For miles, nothing came remotely close that rivaled her attraction.
No one ever told us, but she looked like some kind of smoke stack,
utilized for burning debris or unwanted materials from the large farm.
We were just poor kids growing up on a large farm, underprivileged and
overworked. If there were child labor laws back then, no one told us.
Perhaps they did not apply to us or maybe no one cared to abide. We were
underserved without playground equipment or even playgrounds for playing sports. Rather than complain about not having a swimming pool, we found creeks and jumped in. The angels must have watched over us, because no one told us about pollution. This is not meant to be a sad poor me story. It's simply a childhood memory, and that tall tower was a great part of that memory. In one sense, she symbolized a place where we took our painful experiences and buried them, a place where we took our bitter lemons, made sweet lemonade and drank to our heart's desire.
Anyway, she was a place of play and fun, and we cared not what she used to be. She stood strong as a high towering giant among midgets-human and other wise. As kids, we never heard nor were ever interested in the 'why or how' of things. We only knew that her services were not only curtailed but totally abandoned.
High up about midway were the imprinted words, 'The Orange Crust' which we came to suspect such was an ad for the 'soft drink'. But really, what was that to us? She did not look the part, but for us, she was a play-station, a get-away, a hide-away. One of our favorite things to do was to yell, holler, and shout at the top of our voices. We only played by day and departed by nightfall. Our little farming community got real dark at night and darker still inside the tower. We had no interest in heroes. Our 'pay-dirt' were the echoes.
072820PS
There stands a blackened tower
Shrouded in a ghostly white
The tomb of seventy two
From a day that drags on hour by dreadful hour
As we reflect upon that ghastly night
A day so many live to rue.
From a simple kitchen fire
There grew a flesh eating blaze
That built into a funeral pyre
Covering London in its darkening haze.
Onlookers helplessly looked on
At windows registering silent screams
Of friends and relatives soon to be gone
The stuff of nightmares ,not of dreams.
Too late did the firefighters come
As the flames did the victims consume
In the furnace they once called home
Daily life no longer theirs to resume
An inquiry now picks over the remains and rubble
Searching for what went so badly wrong
Many will be called to account for this trouble
For those commemorated in my dirge of a song.
Grenfell's holocaust is burned into the national mind
Memories shredded and ripped sadly asunder
While every attempt was made for blame evasion
By those who to customer safety were blind
Our bitter grief smoulders on from this costly blunder
Such a parcel of hypocritical rogues in our nation!
tyrranical intimidation
cuts down freedom
and cuts down
love, let the
towering tyrrany
fall to ash
that cannot blow
blow to fire again
let the republic
rise from tis
small cinders
and grow
to a blaze
that was
once my home.
Steely Dan, Floyd all the real bands of the day Miller, Stones, subtle-base jacking up
the-background,
popping quarters... drink-up cry's filling the night-air,
mid-those towering-sky's of-thunder... .
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qh_x3F3jxeI
Towering Urn of 911
ashes
scattered
T
o
w
e
r
i
n
g
Looking
down on
those in the
grasp of its touch.
so harsh and cold it
has been named by
some who have seen
it making ants of all.
So high above our eye
enough to touch our
the sun above, yet so
frail in time of flight
it bows its head down
Oh tower, what you
see, what has been
done within the night.
You see all near and
far, you wish that you
could not. So many do
in vain, they do not
realize what is said
their only care is for
what is now, but you
can see heaven from
there. You know who
comes and goes, you
follow upon our race.
You see the evil men
commit, and you can't
wait to leave this place.
hill* towers midst clouds
summit transcends firmament---
as tall trees praise God
*Psalm 68:15 The hill of God is as the hill of Bashan; an high hill as the hill of Bashan.
March 3, 2022
Edited on March April 4
2nd place, "H Forms - Traditional Nature Haiku" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France; judged on 3/5/2022
Better Than Best!!!!!
_______________________
Ruther Casttill a pension schemer, and retired
Dairy farmer: who married Lilly Coa Dang's daughter who is one of
Adebayo Ackah 16 children. My name is Trevor Slocombe.
Ruther Castills great grandson who lives his fathers and grandfathers legacy of being a four cow dairy farmer.
Making money the cheapest way possible. When he heard
Drollery the Ampestic Poet: he responded in song
the sounds of rhythmic music made the people dance. His voice crooned and soothed while a loving audience applauded and sounded
to the Tower Toned background sung to perfection.
He sang
"That perfect Day" with original sounds composed by folk who wanted music to make
uninspired people feel like the first note began the newness from frustrated place. Much more than those "Ooh Baby songs" of yesterday.
"We love them too" and ya'll know "we got something going here"!!!!!
"WE got Sumthang Going Here"!
Writt
"Smoochie"Plutus Bisento
Composer: Conductor: Crooner: Lover!
Cantor Extraordinaire
_______________________________
A supper of
Crown of Pork
with a cornbread stuffing
and saucage gravy
I curled into a ball andwas overwhelmed with
a feeling of satisfaction.
: while
I sipped Cotes du Rhono
listening to this sexy -woman including me
in the next few days!
giraffes spend their lives
standing, sleeping, birthing, and
eating, all have horns
2019 September 13
howmanysyllables
5-7-5
Flowering and Towering
From her mind poems were flowing and flowering,
And high above the world they had been towering;
Ability endowed,
And was proud;
Effort to write poems God Himself was empowering.
Jim Horn
Let's applaud our
Adored Lord Broad
Fame and awards
Crossing swords &
Bossing visiting hordes
Name in the frame
On Lords boards
Cooing..wasn't it grand
Tanned boy with headband
Wooing the fanned stand
No wonder we're so fond
Of this towering..glowering
Powering flowering blonde
Plumping for knees pumping
Hearts a jumping
All a flutter
Tub thumping
Jaffas he's a scrumping
Utter bowling nutter
Batters in tatters
On the ropes
Slain with disdain
Hopes in vain
Dope tropes
Broad roared
Insane hurricane
Yet again
That strength of fine
Alright divine
Line and length
Vertiginous delight
Prodigious insight
Canny..crafty will
Log in to his noggin
Didactic tactic thrill
Found going round
Was gravy..on the money
Crowned genius genesis
Hefty lefty nemesis
Davy Warner..his bunny
Gladly listened to Hadlee
Took note of what
The Goat did float
Shorten your run son
Well must embellish
Relish to hone
To still cherish..own the throne
With Jimmy his friend
Found at their home grown ground
Got their own eponymous end
Game's pantomime dame
If everything else fails
Wrist twist of the bails
Burning beacon flame
What a gusto way to go
For our dearly loved maestro
Bravado even braggadocio
Willy Wonka winning ticket
Plucky...jammy...lucky
Hero cheerio double whammy
As Broad encored..
Last ball bowled..got a wicket
Last ball faced for 6 did flick it
Helluva a way
For our stellar fella
To say goodbye
To Test cricket
Dawn of the city
sunset of humanity
Light a burning ash
—darkness closing in
(The New Room: September, 2022)