an American Dream
An American election is important for the world
right now, I see a dilemma on the one hand
we have Trump, who is too old, power once
in his hands, the bullet missed and struck hard
confidence is not cock sure his grip has loosened
Yet, his meeting with mortality might make him
a great president
The universal hatred the political class has for
Trump makes me suspicious of them, I think,
is because they fear he is a loose cannon that can
fire their way, exposing their corruption, their
lies to the people, one has to remember the USA's
politic is run and often won by those with cash
There is Kamala Harris, who plays the black card
to garner votes, but she is a person no one knows
anything about except her blind loyalty to Biden
was more important than loyalty to the USA
I think she was chosen because she has no political conviction
an empty vessel that can
Burp up what she has been instructed to do
smile and laugh while dark forces are changing
America into a socialist darkness, killing the once
powerful anglophile hegemony
Can anyone follow the news anymore?
during Euro 2024,
after the UK elections,
when I want to know the latest selections,
In Gareth Southgate’s team,
In Sir Keir Starmer’s team,
with everyone analysing, prophesying,
what this or that might mean.
Even if we heard those songs before,
all the pundits are oh so cock-sure,
everyone thinks they know the score,
the truth is nobody ever knows,
until that final whistle blows.
Everyone’s riding their luck, their chance,
pick up a history book, take a glance,
they never write any of them in advance.
That 2-1 defeat hurt, but it was no disgrace,
after all England, still claimed second place,
so I will congratulate Spain,
and celebrate how far our team came,
give our manager and players, respect that's due,
that's the least, that anyone can do.
The news from the US, just got even worse,
it's time that I returned to my verse,
or read the latest on Port Talbot steel,
then go back to following Labour's New Deal.
Off to the sea in ships we all go,
Untested, but cock sure, as iron to a forge
Deck apes, snipes and gunners are we,
Salt spray, steam and gun smoke to deal
Up early and turning to ‘til late,
While pilfered horse cock, cards and dice await
Down to the bilges and up to the bridge,
Or off to clean the head each day begins
Gunnery drills and damage control,
A well-oiled fightin’ machine we all have become
Man Overboard! Gunner to the bridge,
Seems ole Oscar has taken a dip
A catnap before we take on fuel,
Heavy seas and darkness again to duel
Heave around lads, hand over hand!
Get the rig on deck the bos’n demands
Finally completed and soaked to the skin,
No rack for me, I’ve got the mid
Reveille! Reveille! Up at first light,
Clampdown awaits then I’ll grab a bite
In port tomorrow and liberty awaits,
But first there’s a washdown and lots to paint
All is secured and the Chief’s in good cheer,
So it’s off to the gut for some titties and beer
Back before sunrise no Shore Patrol required,
A run through the rain locker before liberty expires
Breakfast and quarters a new day begins,
I’ll borrow a $20 so I can do it again
It's trinet
Well-set
A poem that you will like
On foot or on a motorbike
Nice beats
All sweet
Nice to
Go through
Else quit
Which I'm sure you won't do
For you will enjoy your shoes
In case
It pinches
Feel free
With glee
Do change
A few words if it's strange
I am cock sure that it
Will fit
With all
No fall
Trinet Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joseph May
January 14, 2021
Skull and Crossbones alumni)
passed along ancestral line when
cock sure rooster spent
however long with a hen
guaranteed supply grunt workers
oxymorons helpless to get even.
“Bosses” male ordure
trained as prospective
male pecking wives,
who with Robbie
didst rig the game to win
endemic nepotism deeply entwined
from one to the next kith and/or kin,
rode shotgun, viz nemesis
resorting to: “silent treatment”
against protesting lumpenproletariat
boot gnome hatch
against hardy thrive
off crene della creme limn
back before thyme
bred from for
gotten slight, min
us school Kudzu, gone
now and agin
gastronomically ferociously carniverous
selected and enveloped
postal stamping brutes
rampant suffocating nin
come poops figurative
thorn in side of aristocracy
heavy-duty industrial strength
pesky original pin
sir blithely festered,
nursed, and stewed
from unforgotten
perceived or actual slight
engendering infinite yawning voids
defying aid of Patch Adams
or Doctor Quinn.
OLD TREE
Tell of this marvelous acre
The which surrounded by neighborhood
Where stands the giant old tree
No living soul can remember a time of sprouting
The time long before neighborhood
For all anyone knows the old tree has always
been there
Center of the mystic plot
And the ground cover renews year by year
In a green emerald density
Here reside the burrowers, climbers, flyers, Chance residents of nature’s renewal
Year after year those hungry come and go
Come and go
Now witness this confrontation –
One fine black cat
Eyes ablaze, quietly watching
And a ground squirrel
Peering down from half way up the old tree
Trunk
Chattering about who knows what,
But cock sure the old tree is quite eternal,
will always aid escape
Three black crows at tree top taunt, screech
down
The drama plays out daily,
Has done so for countless ages
Then, in some celestial silence
Should old sky reaching giant speak
It would say,
“I am here”
Dave Austin
LEAVING NO MARKS
Water leeches squirm in blood
Next door boy snatching
A grilled chic drum stick
A game of chess
Sitting late hours.
Overnight
Vultures, predators and hyenas
Deadly pandemonium.
Burning torches, crude swords,
Iron rods, explosions in hand
Wiping a commune off.
Cries choked, screams of chastity
Gang rape-
Girl petrified eyes
A blooming bud squashed.
Hunter and the hunted
Orphans and widows
Flames licking the last hope
Exodus,
Doleful moments
Relief camps, a farce.
Striping pant zip
To make cock sure.
Well set, predetermined
Your fear, your desire
Flared up.
Discussions, hand shakes
Cashew nut crushed over
Bisleri water
Cease fire.
Odour of burnt flesh and dreams
Lingering in air.
Gone are the lives
Gone are the hopes
Leave no space
No marks in history
Mass migrations, rapes and death
Same old story.
So close
Stay froze
Fine kiss
Pure bliss
Warm blush
Joy rush
Pleasure
Cock-sure
Strong will
Nice feel.
You can see me at the beach
I’m a hunk and there’s no doubt
In my budgie smuggler pants
You can tell that I work out
With my speedos fully loaded
I’m a magnet for the women
And I always get molested
When I’m in the water swimming
I can’t help if I’m oozing
Sex appeal and charm
As I walk along the sand
With a honey on each arm
So you guys, don’t get upset
If your girl comes on to me
When my passions on display
They can’t help it, don’t you see