Best Tubal Poems
O Magog,
from the sterile land of Gog,
thou rejoicest over how thy biological idol father
hast devilishly embraced thee
Spiritual mathematics
offer free radical theorems
of probability analysis
Doth thy Gentile nuclear goggles
allow thee to see
the virtual microbe mushrooming variables
in a decaying half-life reality?
O bastard son
of a thousand fathers
Raised on sour milk doctrines,
from the hard paps —
Udders on an impudent heifer mother
of a thousand harlots,
has weaned thee
in the ways of greed and destruction
Canst thy cannibal siblings,
Tiras and Meshech,
help save thee
with their scientific, canine calculations?
O Magog,
from the mutated land of Gog,
will thy incestuous father’s
Tubal-cain covetous leprosy
overtake thee?
Thou loveth thy beauty spots
inordinately
Brimstone salt cities of wanton lasciviousness
pepper thy mutilated land
The merchants of concupiscence
travel ceaselessly upon thy algorithm waves
Slavishly trafficking tainted wares exponentially
in thy free marketplaces
As the integer worms of digital reproach
feed upon the Kittim kabuki faces
Probability analysis
predict with prescient accuracy:
The radioactive remnants
of a cancerous tumor civilization,
shall struggle mightily
to revive it’s flag half-mast past glory
O Magog,
the war dogs of death
howl oppressively for thee
Thy merchant ghost ships
of Tarshish
has become floating debris
Glowing green false profit wreckage
washes upon
thy polluted Gog shores continually
O Magog,
who shall account for thy losses?
Does not the tabulated numerical conclusion
reveal the astronomical costliness
of thy prolific, propagating cloned vanity?
Which of thy mariner children
shall read
the technological epitaph
on thy submerged Titanic tombstone?
Triple digit uncertainty doth statistically vex thee ...
because of the frightening probability analysis,
which thou vile reptilian mind didst not take heed
O Magog,
chief Gentile prince
from the barren hinterland of Gog —
There is no upraised hand
to retrieve thy dropped divining scepter
Categories:
tubal, judgement, spiritual, truth, wisdom,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
... Lift up your eyes,
and look on the fields;
for they are white
already to harvest
John 4:35
Does the white man know,
has he been made aware?
The times of the Gentiles
draws to an end
Thus, God’s Word do declare
Chief prince of the Gentiles:
Meshech and Tubal,
and their king Gog
do exercise dominion over all
Authority over the earth
rest upon their uplifted rod
Should they not pay honor to God?
Instead, they pay homage to their false idol,
the god of forces
Military might,
all marching down the same perfidious road
Carrying a cobalt carriage upon their shoulders,
their goddess nuclear whore
They boast to the heavens:
with her on their side, who can make war?
Does the white man not know,
has not he been told?
The times of the Gentiles
were over before it ever began
Thus, the Lamb of God spoke bold
Chief prince of the Gentiles,
see the angel with the sickle
The harvest of the earth is ripe
God’s Word says: gather up the clusters of the vine,
these be the grapes of God’s wrath divine
Man’s iniquity will no longer be bypassed
Reap the accepted white harvest last,
gather it in
with the other colorful fruit,
who’ve had their time of rule
And pray that the rejected chaff
understand God’s righteous reproof
is heaven sent
Hoping the remaining grains of rice
will then repent
For the white harvest is the end
Categories:
tubal, judgement, religious, truth, wisdom,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
notification of fire evacuation
slated to occur
April 12th, 2018 (between the hours
of 9:00 am and 12 pm) did spur
me to validate Google asper,
that direct object heave ving,
pro noun sub bull, verb bose,
ingenious American historical figure
attired in tailored clothes
careful sans his just keen
liberal mien pro
claiming necessity to doze
when body politik
didst need restorative source
analogous to drained battery expose
zing lack of electricity
mechanisms need did tubby supplied
(in one direction) flows
accorded stealing thunder and lightening
from Zeus where prominence glows
vis a vis via leaving
his tell tale fingerprints
upon flame inextinguishable hose
imprimatur of renown Founding Father,
a one man gifted born
improved quality of life
during Colonial American stage
buttressing forlorn
during his deux score and four years
fledgling United States heed add horn
bequeathing blueprints
(functional contraptions,
posthumous patents procured
after populace did mourn
gadgets kickstarting leveraging more novel
Ongepatshket prescience,
quietly revolutionary,
strikingly timesaving),
utilitarian value shorn
tattered stitched timeless totemic tenets torn
unimagined visionary watershed worn,
where underworld webbed wide world burned
with thermal coupling that churned
ferocious infernos
describing how Hades learned
tubby managed
to maximize efficiency
zealousness zeroed Zyder Zee
in said Netherlands
and hellish hot house turned
into a near utopia (More
or less nsync) with Doubting Thomas's,
where many mortals yearned
to escape corrupt fat cats, sans
those condemned to mortality
found minimally a mew
zing, and doggedly trudged 10,000 leagues
under the sea, entombing
jewels for vernacular speaking Josephine shew
wing scars from fire
that threatened Philadelphians thorough
lee hence, forcing many civilians
to dive vining Davy Jones's locker pre view
in 1736 after swallowing embalming fluid
ha I did "FAKE" you
tubal heave poetic pablum from human zoo!
Categories:
tubal, 10th grade, 12th grade,
Form:
Light Verse
Born in the dead of winter,
under a pale Siberian moon
Thrust from the womb
by the throes of his mother’s death,
he took his first premature breath
Cursed carnivorous seed
from the Cossack line of Tubal-cain
Rusher
was his Magog given name
Raised to believe
that democracy was a disease
A western swine flu,
which made people delusional
Everyone believing they’re equal to the czar,
crazy thinking that challenged
the rule of the Cossack warrior clan
Only one man had the right to rule the land —
he who severed the bejeweled hand
that held the royal scepter
Rusher ...
the blood snow pentagram picked him
Now he patiently plots the fall of the broken kingdoms
of the west
Subversively making cyber calls
to create more civic unrest
Then sitting back to watch
the thread of democracy unravel
Become a tangled mess
Rusher ...
born to die a beastly death,
Got innocent blood dripping from the tongue
of his premature bruin’s breath
Categories:
tubal, bible, history, judgement, spiritual,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
Premiered at The Break Horse Inn, Imperial Beach, CA – 12/9/1996
ACT 1
Tubal Cain’s Bedtime Chant
Haircut
Ballad of an Honest Man
Ingratitudes
Loaves and Fishes
Glory of the Word
ACT 2
It Was I
The Consequence of WE
Rachel’s Kitchen
Bedouin Eyes
Buthaynah Adara
Egyptian Cotton
ACT 3
Baby Blues
Play Date
Herself
Sky Full of Rain
Pretty Little Engine
Forest Lullaby
Wee Small Hours
When I’m Just a Memory
Categories:
tubal, allegory, music,
Form:
List
On the planet of crispy green celery in the tubal atmosphere
There was a cocky little celery Sam who thought himself rather dear.
I very easily may be the cutest stalk in the whole southern hemisphere,
He said to a colleague, Fred Turnip, with no laugh, smile, twinkle or sneer.
“My friend Sammy Celery is rather conceited, I do fear,”
Fred told his pretty radish wife, Ruthy Bee, who was standing quite near.
“We should set him up with Miss Too Wonderful Tomato,” She said. “Okay, dear?”
And, yes, she said this without a semblance of a joke, a jest, or jeer.
So they set up the two who loved to brag about themselves with no fear.
That they might offend anyone or everyone with their haughty atmosphere.
Only one date, as they both bragged incessantly, and there was no one to hear.
“That date was the worst I ever had,” they each said to everyone who got near.
Which was not actually many people in this educated stratosphere.
Categories:
tubal, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Monorhyme
Idol makers,
apprentices of Tubal-cain
Cruel instrument inventors
of the bitter aftertaste pleasure,
and sweet deceit pain
Children of Jubal
delighting in the music of suffering
Instruments of oppression
they have mastered well
From the mouth of dragons
breathing metal fire ...
sends more and more to the watery grave of hell
Instruments of idolatry
be evil, deified works of the hands of man
The unlearned ones
worship the gun ...
the jet plane
Bow on their knees to give thanks
to the tank ...
the submarine
Every war machine has their devoted blessing
Instruments of cruelty,
whose promise of use
will give the builder and the buyer
power, riches and land —
Slave shareholders of chained souls
to body bag claim
Idol makers,
apprentices of the bittersweet Tubal-cain
Evil reprobate roots
rising from the spoiled sour Magog ground,
at the harvest time of the second rain
Abominable Armageddon souls made to drink
the brimstone blood of their shame
Categories:
tubal, history, judgement, religious, visionary,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
We are all but dreams of God,
Composed of flesh and bone,
Illuminating darkness with our senses.
Dimensionless infinity
Gets cold when you’re alone,
So the Muse of our existence
Pulls the blanket to Her chin.
And She dreams of little puppies.
And She dreams of falling down.
And She dreams about Her Mommy baking cookies.
And She’s frightened by the bogeyman
That hides beneath Her bed,
But comforted by teddy bears and dollies.
We are all but dreams of God,
Together and apart,
Confined within this bubble of perception,
For time and space are finite things
Through which The Sleeper’s art
Confides the inspiration
For the shimmer and the spin.
And it shimmers on the playground.
And it spins around the sun.
And it’s chased about by scientists and schoolboys
And it lights upon a blade of grass
And bursts upon a touch
While children chalk equations on the pavement.
We are all but dreams of God,
A range of subtle hues
That paint our waking world
With clear distinctions.
Yet we ourselves sketch Godly dreams,
Becoming then the Muse,
Imagining a purpose more profound
Than one within.
We are all but dreams of God.
Good night.
Categories:
tubal, allegory,
Form:
Blank verse
CONTENTS (…may have settled during shipping and handling.)
Preface by C. Günter Marrow
Prologue by Zoltan Goliath
Cycle I. FAITH HEALERS & HEARSAY MIRACLES
Ghosts from the Well
Hard Lessons
Chest of Drawers
Cycle II. RAW PERFUME
Social Insecurity
Rogues’ Gallery
Business as Usual
Cycle III. ORDINARY FAIRY TALES
Dry Stone Wall
A House with No Servants
Let’s Put this Night to Sleep
Cycle IV. FLOTSAM & JETSAM
Sausage, Head Cheese & Scrapple
The Institution
Should the Levee Ever Break
Cycle V. SCARS OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE
Light at the End of Tunnel Hill
Light Keeper’s Testament
Light in a Quiet Room
Epilogue by Otis Trench
Categories:
tubal, allegory, art, literature,
Form:
List
A pebble is a mountain.
A snowflake is a blizzard.
To an ant.
A small branch, a perch.
A single tubal flower a burst
Of energy to a hummingbird.
A blade of grass, a shelter to hide,
For a grasshopper
A mattress on the floor, a lovely place to rest
For a homeless child who huddled in a box
Knees to chest.
A puddle is an ocean to a bee,
Pollinating the earth, from sea to sea.
Perspective is ours; we can own that word
Define it as good, define it as bad
Either way, gratitude is a feeling
We all have
Categories:
tubal, analogy,
Form:
Free verse