Like veering on the highway, once learnt material creates an erudite maker yet while this holds true, the cessation of the wayward knowledge must also be acknowledged. One cannot rouse a dog prone and toss meat only to regret that the dog feasts instead, the callowness must be abrogated wherein one can avoid the booby trap where momentum from learning creates both an initial wave and a shockwave from that event, with which one would incur deleterious effects that are beyond the scope of the acquisitions and the assignments, like a comet delivering an impact instead of a showy sign in the midnight skies.
Should you like to view the shrike
or have a butcher's take a hike
to where they nest while at rest
but better yet sneak a peek
at the dancing yet docile
and stupid blue-footed booby
as it will make you smile
for they have no need to choose
a pair of blue suede shoes
and how to catch them
there's no secret you would keep
it's best when they're sound asleep
yes can you guess
if you dare when they nap
to snare one two or a few
use a blue-footed booby trap
Job Description Board of the Middle East
The Sniper - not Palestinian
The Bomber - not Palestinian
The Thief - not Palestinian
The Terrorist - not Palestinian
The Child Killer - not Palestinian
The Burner of Tents - not Palestinian
The Group that blows up Hospitals - not Palestinian
The Rapist - not Palestinian
The Blocker of Humanitarian Aid - not Palestinian
The Exploding Pager Man - not Palestinian
Plant Bombs in Toys Job - not Palestinian
Booby Trap food on the starving - not Palestinian
Deprive Water to the Starving Job - not Palestinian
Genocide Promoter - not Palestinian
Financier of Genocide - not Palestinian
Propagandist for defending burning Babies - not Palestinian
Killer of Journalists - not Palestinian
Using Ambulances to murder civilians - not Palestinian
However all these positions are open
apply in Israel
they need more persons with zero morals
death is their only currency
You might trip if caught in a flap
Or with your foot stuck in a strap
When flooring's criss-crossed
With bras she has tossed
You will need a booby-trap map
"Who had this booby trap set?"
Asked the hit man quite upset
But flashing a borrowed smile
He could take to some one mile.
Later, what seemed a child's grin,
Once very rich, now as thin...
It's clear Charles would some cheek slap
Or a head hit or a cap:
Charles' little luck with good clue
Could him to a lone spot glue,
Each movement a quest for proof,
Still luckless just hit the roof!
Certain now he'll Hill's cheeks slap,
Now with zest closing their gap:
What long frustration could do:
Up men would begin to screw.
Hello Nigerian youth!
How are doing?
I salute your courage
I salute your resolve
To take back your country
Bedeviled by evils of unimaginable proportion
That threaten and becloud your future
You are leaders of today
Making you believe otherwise
Tantamount to fraud
Say no to divide and rule tactics
A booby trap to keep you subjugated
Stand firm and say no to intimidation
Your strength is in your numbers
Your strength lies in your innovative spirit
Your strength lies in
Your youthfulness
Your strength lies in your resilience
Today is your day
Rise and take what belongs to you
Arm yourself with your PVCs
Vote wisely and repossess
What belongs to you
It is now or never!
A woman will harness her boobs
Although they're the size of ice cubes
Because what girls see
Incites jealousy
And stuffing beats tying their tubes
Working with trainer Pauhura Muruh
He developed the "Stirru Pomb"
and the "Thrips Massa" and
"Bassa Moto's Booby trap"
He'll make chicken wing , bending
Both knees with his shinlach.
A waistlach; roll into pinning
Position.A "Tashiaz Bow"
Rendition of a surfboard.
Massiro Missurira the
Brazilian Judo champion.
4 # ground pork
1/4 cup of green bell peppers
4 T minced garlic
1/3 c chopped onion
1/4 c shredded cucumber
3 tablespoons cayenne pepper
4 tablespoons of cultured buttermilk
1/4 cup of breadcrumbs
3 tablespoons of sesame seed oil
1/3 cup of sundried tomato
Salt or soy sauce
2 tablespoons of fennal seeds
Fry up one check seasoning.
MAke burgers and enjoy.
He made these burgers when the promoters
Gave me 40 days to slimdown. I ate them
With habashii thousand island sauce
On toasted kosher rolls. He will pay
In every match for betrayal!
The Battlefield was alive
Rows of soldiers on either side
Flutes and drums played behind me
My brother's stood beside me
The bright sun challenge my sight
Hearts racing ready to fight
Bayonet rests heavy on my arm
Waiting for the command to charge
Yesterday's battle scars
Irritate under my tabart
Whistle blower starts the race
Collision course at gruesome pace
Dodging arrows and spearheads
I fell over the fallen dead
Face down I have a choice to make
Continue the fight or make death fake
I took a deep breath and jumped up
Taking part in the punch up
When the Director shouted "cut, that's a wrap"
Tomorrow's scence is about a booby trap
Poor Mr. Mosquito gets a bad rap
In winter he takes a three-month nap
In spring and fall he's hardly on the map
~ In summer I use a booby trap
See the human debris,
the scattered limbs torn apart
by shrapnel velocity
In so many Third World places,
the second-hand groan grafters
commit mercantile murder
in the first degree
Time encapsulated buried hatred
leech covetously
Flooding the colonial lands with booby-trap misery
Tick-tock waves of disfigurement crimes
against humanity
Collateral damage seep in deadpool faces ...
dark moral cavities,
where maimed charity bleeds
Mental scarlet stains of pain
are strewn everywhere
Empty eye sockets are separated
by full-metal piercings
Observe the void spaces between desensitized ears:
Lynch pinheads be blunt instruments
using indiscriminate force —
Spreading teary shattered hopes of detached fears
Awaken numb senses
to the non-negotiated reality
of prosthetic dreams
Dry sea of grief ...
landmine of crimson carnage
Deathly halt feelings collect the debt
paid by the broken living pieces
Why is there only morphine comfort
in hidden swaths of shame,
where phantom limb emotions
have metallic waves of saline releases?
Fear hides a map
In booby trap
Fear wears a face
Where hurts now trace
Fear lives in vain
If you see plain
Fear seems to hurl
An empty curl
Fear is a poise
With a loud voice
Fear is but fear
If you see clear
Fear masks the way
Seize truth that stays
Leon Enriquez
23 June 2019
Singapore
it’s like -
it’s like taking the story of icarus and flipping the script,
like icarus reaching and reaching, but never getting close to the sun.
that’s what you and i are like, it seems.
it’s like you, with an outstretched hand in my direction,
facing me, with my never ending want for things i should not have,
holding out my hand for the one thing i shouldn’t want.
it’s like every metaphor that’s ever been written to death,
wrapped around you like a bow laced with a booby trap -
like a warning, but i don’t listen.
it’s like looking at you as red flags pop up all around you, telling me to run away and hide,
while i move toward you in never ending quicksand,
like i don’t have control.
it’s like -
it’s like wanting you and never having you.
it’s like wanting you, indefinitely.
it’s like wanting you, might be the death of me.
My darling I know have put on weight
But I didn’t expect you to set bear bait
Now I am caught on the traps you set
The pain is intense and I’m getting upset
These boobies can no longer be concealed -
I hope the clamp marks will soon be healed
I will be starting my job as a sexy poll dancer
We need the money - this new job is the answer
Please will you hurry outside and release me
Don't think of charging me a clamping fee!!
29th August 2016
It's raining cats and dogs on a dark and stormy night -
with such a stroke of genius, a poet starts to write.
Inane clichés he's banging out to beat the band,
a booby trap as big as life to bite the poet's hand.
It opens up a can of worms to catch the early birds
but with no bird in hand he'll have to eat his words.
The tropes are fresh as daisies, with infinite supplies
of broken-hearted lovers, and rainbow butterflies.
Garbage in and garbage out, it's fun and games for all,
to sell you down the river and drive you up the wall.
For if it's true a pen is more mighty than a sword,
then we're as good as dead, for to death we will be bored.
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