Rattling through the bogs, my love in limbo
Battling against the odds, arms akimbo
Too late to tear down the walls that they've built
Ate a cat-o-nine tails and swallowed their guilt
They demanded, then broke, my humanity
Hot branded, and stoked, my insanity
Purely for sport, the game, and the kill
With orders to READY, AIM, and FIRE at will
Now hobbled in pain, where the crossroads meet
On a cobblestone lane, with unshod feet
I've groped, so long on this road, I'll just say
I've hoped, I've dreamed, now I'll just fade away
I once was a farmer
I worked the land
I reaped the corn
With a scythe in my hand
I ploughed my furrow
I sowed my seed
I grew my crops
My family to feed
One day hot and thirsty
With the sun going down
I went for to drink
At the alehouse in town
As I was a drinking
There at the Inn
Without any warning
The press gang came in
So I was taken
I was taken so fast
And told that my future
Was before the mast
So in my fields
I no longer plough
Instead the wide ocean
I must plough now
From hauling on ropes
My hands are all torn
Sometimes I wish
I had never been born
Our captains a hard man
If one of us fails
He'll have us flogged
With a cat o' nine tails
When I climb the rigging
I oft times will find
I think of the family
That I left behind
One day I'll jump ship
And I'll stay on shore
I'll serve the Kings navy
Never no more
I'll return to my loved ones
I'll go back to the land
Once more I will reap
With my scythe in my hand
I've sailed the wide oceans
Seen Paris and Rome
But nothing compares
With my humble home
I once was a farmer
I worked the land
I reaped the corn
With a scythe in my hand
I ploughed my furrow
I sowed my seed
I grew my crops
My family to feed
One day hot and thirsty
With the sun going down
I went for to drink
At the alehouse in town
As I was a drinking
There at the Inn
Without any warning
The press gang came in
So I was taken
I was taken so fast
And told that my future
Was before the mast
So in my fields
I no longer plough
Instead the wide ocean
I must plough now
From hauling on ropes
My hands are all torn
Sometimes I wish
I had never been born
Our captains a hard man
If one of us fails
He'll have us flogged
With a cat o' nine tails
When I climb the rigging
I oft times will find
I think of the family
That I left behind
One day I'll jump ship
And I'll stay on shore
I'll serve the Kings navy
Never no more
I'll return to my loved ones
I'll go back to the land
Once more I will reap
With my scythe in my hand
I've sailed the wide oceans
Seen Paris and Rome
But nothing compares
With my humble home
Denis Briggs
Bow serpents and lions
Ingenerated from Demora’s shrine
Graced from Gia’s star
Blessed with serenity, strength, and beauty
Chanted by Diablerie monarchs
Dancing enchantress witchcraft coursing into Archellion blood cells
Evolving woman and beast of Strata, the cause of famine
Life sources shall drought and vex
For life of bondage, chained of carnage and sin has sewed into breeding hell
Now the blood thirsty nightmare Allison of unextinguished flames
With scarlet kin, eagerness to rise, eagerness to kill and rule
Look into her dead eyes it speaks fornication
Obliteration of man and woman, just to spite gods
For without their commoners, they wreck of rotten forlorn
Hail Azalia, she is bane cat-o-nine tails bedevil scourge
A disease to land barriers
Menacing birches for catastrophic centuries
Procreating canker bubonic plagues
Just to please her insidious deportment
Sprouting dispassionate vibrations, god deicide she is
Voices mourn unheard, shall remain unspoken
Azalia consumes this putrid sphere, forever mute
Don’t be hoaxed, she craved concupiscent, from that of vicious rays
Villanelle: Hoist not the flag of your hidden vices
Hoist not the flag of your hidden vices
Wonder not why enemies pick on entrails
No foe will salute nor sing your praises
You cannot make curry without spices
Worst not enemies with cat o' nine tails
Hoist not the flag of your hidden vices
Enemies crop up as you throw dices
They hide in pockets and wear long tails
No foe will salute nor sing your praises
They even sport horns to cuckold spouses
Call you names while you look for holy grails
Hoist not the flag of your hidden vices
Enemies revel not in open spaces
Splice them only in their hidden entrails
No foe will salute nor sing your praises
Best enemies wallow in pungent sauces
Flapping from naked flag-poles stuck in jails
Hoist not the flag of your hidden vices
No foe will salute nor sing your praises
© T. Wignesan - Paris, 2017
Lady Onyx has curvy, black nails;
so resistance she quickly assails.
She needs no boot spurs;
for nails long like hers
serve as tailor made cat-o-ten tails.
written 19 February 2016
cat o' nine tails
today hand or belt
is spanking right or wrong?
America Gentleman II
His long stripped Hat is a storey thing
Yet his head scantly fills it to the brim
His Brain being below the first floor
Floats in the scar sprinkled Skyscraper
Vaunted as “Most Sublime!”
His Coat flows so long and so bright
A frayed notorious Cat O’ Nine Tails
Only that he’s the Cat of Nine Lives
Coaxing a scary plague back in Town!
Racy colours of Pied Piper!
Arriving at the Port from land abroad
“Hero’s in Town”, RED carpet rolled.
Frowning: “Been into too much blood,
“I wouldn’t desire that kind of stuff
“Flag you raise to honour me must be
“A Scar Spangled Banner!”
Then on tow, kid captive from abroad
Chained and destined for some Zoo...
A stage was set for a Hero’s welcome-
To lavish with fun and raucous praise
“I need no dough with no hologram
“Of Pirates on eye-hoods!”
JM
04th Nov’ 2013
Wind lashes into me, no softer than a cat o’ nine tails.
The rope swinging like a fallen halo.
Fear of death was never resident in me, I thought I knew my final resting place,
But now. What now.
If only you had not abandoned me.
Or did I abandon you. The moment I plundered his body of life breath.
She had lain with him as naked and carefree as a baby in a bath.
With honour deplete and heart wretched would not any man have done the same.
She told me I would never grace your hallowed halls,
But be consumed by eternal fire.
My chest is leadened. My heart thudding.
The rope is stilled. I look for a sign.
My only fear is of the unknown.
Those entrancing eyes
Gaze longingly into mine
What is her desire
Softly purring in my ear
(Inscrutable cat o' mine!)
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 2 in PD's "Left Over Valentine Poem" Contest - February 2012
You could’nt be the real French Martre design,
Must be the modified, Indian Side Winger Missile.
Unpatented still, definitely a loner, non-fissile.
Failed Test flight, poor soul, forced to resign.
Patriot-men cruise, were you not conveniently sidelined?
Three times cat-o-nine tails, You,and One other, on the fight.
A munching cow, bellowing buffalo, gurgle sign.
How ridiculous! place women, above the male might.
Beware! Monica Lewinsky, has her trio transgenic share.
Indra’s Maneka, Love here, Whiskey cocktail there.
Fantastic punch, classic Hillary too did not dare.
‘Fire’ still burns Mehta, her spirits why should men care.
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