The Pro: "Timmies grow under the heather yes, we hear that too, the shale rocks earthen faults and spouts meters and rhythmic soornteens like ask the cold fall moon."
Samara: "Oldest wept upon bridge, the lovers crest cradles the lover's bridge, two brigades that hold together the trust of men and women at arms, like wings sent Demeter into the fog
Samael: "Came, went, it's always the same, the old lion's mane, the goat's beard is the fashionable game."
(Anonymized character) "Stellar! Like the fickle few! We shouldn't press too much wine to winny while we mew!"
Helel: "Tomorrow never dies, the like-minded sun repressed, never dies in the night twin flames of tomorrow's best."
Aurora: "Timidity be slow upon the river pale the horse-drawn carriage has foregone the bitter yales."
Uraeal: "Goosed up for the gander? Myne thyne fyne lynes are wolly and not prancer!"
Gladius: "Gooseflesh la'amore? Sinnder down the doors and let from that lovingly pour!"
---End of act I---
Farmer Wade is going around, and raising morale, is what i've found, with the
Billboard battalion; strong on the ground.'
All Aussie warriors, may-be you know? How they Astound '
Some of 'our heros' who want to go.'
And they will do it right, will not be baited.)
I let all know.! And stand in solidarity, I guess its fated.?
A land of hero's each one i treasure.'
Thats not debated, Standing to count, the traitors and foe's
Agressors.' All blessings, i bless you' in unity; to victory go! into brigades form may your numbers
Rise..' I salute you all you men and women
Keep tight keep active, and plan for a winning. And no surprise.!
It’s a firework holiday,
so let’s light up the night,
wave the stars and stripes,
eat barbecue and drink bud light.
We’ll celebrate the liberties
that SCOTUS says we’ve still got
It appears they’ve all been bought
and before their terms are over
they’ll resurrect Dred Scott.
Watermelon, hot wings
we’ve even added new things,
like smash & grab lootings
and frequent random shootings.
Some Republicans want to break away
to form a less perfect union
can you form a successful nation
based on the politics of illusion?
There used to be parades
I’m told, that featured local
things, like fire fighting brigades
I guess we’re just to fractured now,
to sashay in such displays.
I bet those were the days.
.
.
Webster: Sashay = proudly walk in confident display
Behold the coming of the infidel
with his tanks and brigades in battledress,
where once barbarians on horseback fell
new destroyers hide new sin unconfessed.
Now Serb boots march where invaders have trod
on Muslim Srebrenica in blood thirst,
but where, O tell, is their merciful God
when the lords of genocide do their worst?
Will mortar shells discern installation
from infant flesh in the stone cobbled street?
Might enemy siege end in salvation
where ancient homeland and battlefield meet?
Or will more die in the cold snow and mud
when raised are partisan flags stained in blood?
Written: April 1993
Muzzle the people while making billions
unleash a maelstrom of communist virus
into the veins of the harlot media tyrants
into the hat of power magician- politicians
spread fear-mask -divide the people
inoculate a frightened population
with experimental vaccinations
endless mutations-booster brigades
rinse and repeat-new age slaves
frighten-mask-silence-divide-globalize
turn abnormal into normal.
Stalinize the children
brand parents as terrorists...
groom their children not to think
to blindly follow Godless sheep...
where abnormal is normal
godisdevildevilisgod
menarewomenwomenaremen
While in our mental lethargy...
a man tinkling the word "woke"
in the stall next to the little white girl
who's being taught that she is inherently racist.
This is just the beginning, folks:
wake up mamma bear
lock and load pappa bear...
fight for the soul of your children
there's a snake poking holes in the nest
of New Eden
stealing eggs at your expense
fight for the soul of your children
slap the snake with the rake of God..
separate the wheat from the chaff
sprinkle today with the blood of snakes
Amen!
The negotiation table
With sounds of Booms
Invading rooms
And the mounting fears
For the closest spears
The negotiation table
That could things make stable,
Should step into the scene
And hands not yet blood-stained keep clean.
The four-legged furniture
For every peace-craving creature
Never greeted with smiles,
And chilling glimpses by Evelyn
Of Enemy killers Javelin!!
That which urges insurgents to split
And mutineers to wait a bit;
War dancers proclaiming a disappointment
And combatants giving a different appointment.
The carpentry that halts an Armada;
A criminal use of the radar,
Holing up the anxious grenades
Of panting infantry brigades.
Dries it does the tears of a shelled neighourhood; Stickers to the scene of their childhood,
Speedily sheathing a drawn dagger
Which would its receiver stagger.
The Negotiation Table is another Olive Branch
For intercepting blasts that make people bunch!
When I thought of the year
Take thy season from out my heart
It threw its ghost against the grades
They are perfumed from unseen brigades
And its eyes have all the lining
Long I stood there circling, confining
With such a passion for aligning
All my soul within me designing
Eagerly I looked for the decade
I threw my day upon the floor
The end is soon approaching
Time to open the next door
Autumn’s story is full of rustic shades
that echo deep from every vale and hill
of splendor and of forest colonnades,
as one by one leaves float and spin and spill
in frosted shadows and in evening’s chill
Dogwoods change,in carmine escapades,
to celebrate old summer’s standing still
Scarlet leaves and shades of marmalades
Shiraz, Claret and Burgundy distill
bright tones of nature for the soul to swill.
Amber, apricot and goldenrod brigades
capturing our gaze and hearts to thrill
Piles of forest treasures spilling in cascades
with dappled browns’ and caramel’s goodwill,
All opulence of Autumn to fulfill
Autumnal English Quintain Contest
Francine Robert’s.
First Place.
Title for contest was Quintessential Autumn
A Strand 1061
First Place
Published in PS It’s Poetry Available on Amazon.
pantoum
Squalling seagulls sip the morning sunshine.
while lighthouse keeper, Lenny tends his work -
light shows tricky traps on rocky shoreline.
Len loves to watch brigades of birds that lurk.
While lighthouse keeper, Lenny tends his work,
voracious, screeching seagulls seem to pray.
Len loves to watch brigades of birds that lurk,
a group of gulls glide ‘round the ocean spray.
Voracious, screeching seagulls seem to pray,
“Len, tow the lines,“ - crab traps need attention.
A group of gulls glide ‘round the ocean spray -
time for breakfast, obvious intention.
“Len, tow the lines,” - crab traps need attention.
Light shows tricky traps on rocky shoreline;
time for breakfast, obvious intention.
Squalling seagulls sip the morning sunshine.
December 18, 2019
Sponsor Joseph May
Contest Name Pantoum - Old or New
Falling acorns gathering like pebbles on a beach
Floating leaves sway while trying to reach
Blue jays sounding, seeking food to eat
Squirrels scrimmage in brigades, no doubting defeat
Brisk air puffing, glittering sun streams thru
Rabbits hip and hop over the wet morning dew
Sparrows and finches begin their daily flights
Breadcrumbs are scattered, appetizing delights.
Fall is here, crisp leaves crunching,
Nature’s critters are happy munching
Its wishful thinking that fall will stay
But don’t doubt that winter won’t play.
Falling acorns gather like pebbles on a beach
Floating leaves sway which are hard to reach
Blue jays sounding, seeking food to eat
Squirrels scrimmage in brigades, not doubting defeat
Brisk air puffing, glittering sun streams thru
Rabbits hip and hop over the wet morning dew
Sparrows and finches begin their daily flights
Breadcrumbs are scattered abound for their delights.
Fall is here, crisp leaves crunching, a seasonal birth
The foliage beautifies and encompasses our mother earth
Various hues adorn the banks of the creeks and streams
A moment to escape catching the sunlight’s autumn dreams.
Memorial Day
Behind the pomp and circumstance
The celebrations and parades
Remember those who battled
The platoons and the brigades
Take some time to think now
Of the freedoms we possess
Of who fought the battle
Those who didn't second guess
Respect the soldiers duty
Give thanks to those who served
A handshake and a smile
Is worth a thousand words
It might be a long weekend
That many now will never see
Think of them this weekend
And give their life some dignity
Now, go and have a hotdog
Ride the float in the parade
Enjoy the fireworks exploding
Have a Happy Memorial Day
If really true friends stay by you when time is bad
Then I shall stay for you at the end of love
To catch you as you fall so hard
So to prevent a friend from getting so hurt
If really true friends stay by you when time is tough
Then I shall stand by you when you woo love
So I can untie and lubricate your tongue when they get tied and rough
And give braces to your shaking knees to avoid an embarrassing fall
If only true friends stay by you during hard times
Then I shall stay by you the most on your marriage
Not to consume the Curry and thyme
But to feed them to your courage
If true friends mean helping
Then in that room whenever your bed goes creaking
I will call the police and brigades
Because with that noise and groans, I know something's at stake
How brave are our fire brigades?
As they battle bushfires each day,
Yes, it's summer in Victoria,
Not exactly the Waldorf Astoria,
For all the fire brigades,
Our respect they've totally gained,
Laying their lives on the line,
When the weather's too hot and fine,
Burn, Victoria, burn,
El Nino's torrid urn.
Our noble defenders, each day,
Real heroes in the news, I say,
As they battle bushfires today,
How brave are our fire brigades?
So Glad am I; Glad is the Sky
So glad is the sky today --
The brigades of breezy-spells
Are on loose.
The wind is witching out
Of the dry pallor,
And giving away to a 'feel'
Grinding in the Onomatapoeia.
A chill-clad nature,
Howling out to me,
And to you.
So glad is the sky
It's raining now;
It's raining hard.
At your return -
Returns the rain,
Retires the summer sun.
Glad is the sky --
Sending forth the brigades of wind-spells
To shake 'your' conscience.
I am awake, so.
Keeping my vigil;
Heard of onomatpioea;
Hailing your turn
From the open balcony,
soaked by the gust of that 'feel'.
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