Best Xiii Poems
Unquotable quotes – XIII
Follow love for it’s free, free love and it’ll flee.
Do unto others as you would have them undress you.
Easy come, eenie meenie mini go.
Practice makes sex a maniac.
God helps those who help ten elves.
Never kiss a gift horse in the mouth.
People who live in glass houses should not throw boomerangs.
Two heads are no better than none.
Actions speak louder than burps.
A watched pot suffers from boils.
You can’t make a cutlet without breaking legs.
Hang on the hand that feeds you.
All good things must come to a fiend.
If you can’t beat ‘em, grind ‘em.
If it ain’t broke, don’t make it work.
Dislocation is the greater part of valour.
There’s no place like eohm.
A picture is worth a thousand broads.
Better late than dump her.
The pen is mightier than the sword for those who’re
illiterate.
One man’s trash is another man’s pleasure.
Beauty is in the dye of the painter.
Myopia is the mother of the optician.
Familiarity breeds when people camp unkempt.
Good things come to those who know how to put on weight.
A drain is only as long as the longest drink.
Absence makes the heart go ablunder.
You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him blink.
In teaching others we teach ourselves to teach others.
If you want something done Right, don’t look to the Left.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2016
fisherman
donating scales
with each hand shake
The wrestler-in chief is quite bad
In Trump there's one horrendous cad
This madman disgrace
Lost the mask on his face
Whoa—it’s not the Donald—it’s Vlad!
Author's note: No explanation is needed. They say that Putin actually died a few years ago, but that appears not to be the case.
Dear Daddy. You've been gone for so long I can't even tell when Father's Day
is. The last time I could remember running to wake you up was in Grade 4. I'm
in Matric now, 8 years since you've done that and 7 since you've been gone.
Dear Daddy. Why did you leave? Please tell me. I'm old enough to understand
now. I was only 9 and my boy was 5. Did you know that you left two weeks
before he turned 6? All he knew was that Daddy went to go visit his family and
would be back someday.
Daddy take note that I do not cal you Father because I'm still a boy who needs
to be taught the ways of a man. When I would loose a tooth you'd put a
quarter under my pillow but a quarter can't change into a dollar now can it? It
needs to be invested and through time it shall be a dollar. I'm not saying that
you were never there you just never invested the time you were suppose to
when I needed you. I remember the days I'd sit on your belly and watch cricket
with you but understand that life will never be the same without you. Dear
Daddy I remember when you and Mommy used to dance with me. You loved
the oldies. Did you know that I can't listen to Luther Vandross - Dance With
My Father without crying? Please Daddy please may I have one last dance. I'd
play that song over and over again because I never want you to leave ever. I
want you to come back and be my Father. I want you to look at me and say
"My son you are now a man." I don't get how people could hate their Daddies
when it's a boy's biggest dream to have a male role model.
I sometimes wish I could write letters to heaven so that God could hold in His
hands a message from a heartbroken son who just wants to see his Daddy
watch him becoming a successful man. Dear Daddy regardless what you've
done in the past, what you're doing now or what you're about to do in my life,
you my paps and I'm your boy. That love will never change.
2014/05/25
Why promote wrecking-ball malice
Behind the wall of a palace?
This callous man sick
Acts like a big dick
To cover up his small phallus
In a yonder canyon
Upon earth’s finest grass I sit
Scathing mature flower petals
As if to sojourn the years
When youth nestled us
Grazing our faces with happiness
IF YOU PULL A LONG FACE : XIII
If you pull a lean long face
Each day in fear of the next Saturday
Time to tone down High C voice in Elysée Palace
Yellow Jackets are closing in on the Champs Elysées
Then if you insist on pulling that lone long face
Just think on what could happen on Bastille Day
Guest of Honour Outre Atlantique might pull your face
If sacré Fourteenth of July fell on a Yellow Saturday
Now if you cannot prevent pulling that lone long face
On the pretext your corporate tax cuts benefit the lay
You should've first laid out your plans to the populace
And obtained their consent by referendum if you may
No use pulling a lone long lean face
When Yellow Jackets choke the roads and railway
Time to move house to the Versailles Palace
And there reign as Monarch of all you survey
But if you must keep pulling that lone long face
Best to follow in footsteps of itchy-foot Corsican's Grande Armée
Take to the Chunnel set up House in Buckingham Palace
Before Brexit gets pulled off by plucky Santa Theresa May
© T. Wignesan - Paris, January 8, 2019
Centered around ephemeral shapes,
Now—shapeless now—flailing—
Yellows, blues, oranges and reds,
Heat eating what surrounds it till it Can no more—eyes—in the fire. . .
The way life moves toward danger,
And eyes watch closely,
Growing and slackening,
Distant singing and laughter. . .
The fires that hear stories of the ancient ways,
Tarrying through the tales,
The coldness of the wild behind their backs,
Smoke reaching toward starlit wonderlands. . .
I hear resilience in the horror—
And in the unison of kinship,
Bodies moving closer to one another,
As the eyes at last close against the coals
2.13.20
Note: I wanted to play with a little fire today.
I wanted to write "Smoke reaching toward starlit wonderlands" but didn't feel I had room... however, I wanted to make it clear that the smoke hasn't made it there to that starlit wonderland...just like we reach toward the stars but don't quite get there sometimes. I hope that makes an ounce of sense, and I don't know why that makes me emotional and that it's so important to me, but I felt the need to share...
Anyway, sending love to all and extra warmth today, wherever you may be.
Love, Laura
IF ever I had a country : XIII - XIV
XIII
IF ever I had a country
And if ever I were the Sports Secretary
I'd remind every sportsman performing for money
That the buying and selling of humans born free
Died with slavery in the Nineteenth Century
And put behind bars all club committees found guilty
That is, if ever I were the Sports Secretary
And even if I never ever had no country
XIV
If ever I had a country
And if ever I were the Sports Secretary
I'd fine any sportsman his salary for hood-winking the referee
After every judo throw and karate jab above or below the knee
Just when the ball's dribbled to the goal --- for a penalty
Even if the VAR-referee is blind to what we see on TV
That is, if ever I were the Sports Secretary
And this, even if I never ever had no country
© T. Wignesan - Paris, July 3, 2018
The eyes kills the flies in the air
Through the lies I'm cut by the truth
These honesty is care, dishonesty is unfair
I open my heart to be WiFi for the youth
Words ripped from a love book to erase the hate
Not guaranteed, outdoors the winds are propaganda
It is a circle rotating non stop more of an endless debate
As the breeze massage my skin, I roll a proper ganja
We the forgotten kids glued on drugs
Brain cells killed, intellect spilled, pain is healed
The numb ones begging for hugs
Destroy the blockages,Tetris, the mind is build
I feel like Nelson, these lines are my long walk to freedom
Peel off the old (pain)t, one's heart is canvas to free dumb
DON’T FEEL FOR ME
He didn’t choose to Victimize Me
But it so happened
That when He was settling “everyone”;
Putting everyone through
In our anticipated Due Time
Through what we’ve always known
And believed as the Desirable expected end.
He didn’t choose to Victimize Me
When in Me, the scriptures, He Fulfilled
That Eyes have not seen, nor Ear heard
Neither has entered into the Heart of Man.
He didn’t choose to Victimize Me
When after I confessed and proclaimed Him Lord,
His Lordship covers the Route to the Expected End.
@NOVEMBER 2016/ ©M.H.O.G. Unveiled
Moon,
Through the periwinkles it rests
rich, red, radiant, persuaded
in lines
we soon would not forget
jubilance unfurled
a jade resemblance of romance
resounding and reminiscing
in every word
in every field
in every feel
the moon gifted to my hand
brilliance burst at the seam
of time
of rythmn, of rhyme
reflection of sun, not
but an inflection
of what has just begun
hints of honeysuckle
dripped upon your trail
where lost can be found
and the desperate resound
sun showers have turned on
heat of the night warms up to the day
take no mind, birds, or what is sung
flawlessly,
all your flowers have sprung
You, oh clumsy damsel with your forsaken heart,
jumping back and forth,
through channels of distress.
You girl, oh clumsy girl,
who thinks she is the world,
and everything revolving around her,
wanting want she cannot have (true love)
you are not ready for such a thing,
you jump from tree to tree,
and street corner to street corner,
from café to café and bookstore to bookstore;
you are a lost little puppy,
who looks at me and questions me on facts of love,
and still you show to compassion,
when I tell you that(I love thee-)
you see me as "friend," but I see you more-
I see you more, but now you flip my heart's mind
and thought of you.
Clearly you are not ready for such a thing(true love)
so do not cry when I am long gone
and you need a "friend" to love-
.2.27.2014.
Gentle Prof –
The tales were so loudly told
Of new buses, of omnibuses;
Your tales-bearers so numerous
Loud-sounding speakers
Sharp ear-piercing trumpeters
Harping like some prime oracles
Announcing the benevolence of the deity
Each weaver sing-wept for joy
Even in these hard times!
Where are the buses?
Where are the omnibuses?
In a trick of sacrifice
Within the shrines of smaller deities
The gallant wheels bear the kids
Of our rabbi-bosses
Pampering their swap-ward women & maids
Like the ambrosia & emerald of deities
(Prof, a watch-lad saw them)
Was this intent?
Then on the day of campus turmoil
A new elephant-wheel came to us
(Prof, a watch-lad saw it all!)
Lads & lasses beamed as bosses
In the gallantry of a new conveyancer
– Was this intent? –
(Pro, think well now!)
Was it the trick of old bosses
To cover another clear loophole:
To dim the eye of the sun?
As Eve from Adam came, so I from thee;
I, flesh of your flesh, bone of your bone,
of all creation made to be your own,
soul of your very soul eternally.
We are joined by bonds of love, I and thee,
bonds which hold me close to you though alone.
I am engraved upon your heart; and stone,
by chisel and by hammer hewn, indeed,
could not hold my name as surely as thine
heart does. Though wild the winds of time may beat,
your love shall prove my birth, how truly thine
I am. Storm fade stones and thus defeat
the purpose of their words, but line on line,
my soul from yours none can ever delete.
Copyright, 1987
Faye Lanham Gibson