“Post Pep Comics”
In this time,
there are no children -
we refer to them as the 'undead'.
The young watch on
while their gods war on, it’s all televised,
committing abominable atrocities, war crimes.
Like ancient souls held in the palms
of the war machine they watch on
like zombies, vacant things
scrolling, weighing their relevance
against those dressed in designer ozempic scales, while worlds away
the third-class child attends their lessons in starvation,
surviving death and bullets
trafficked and war torn, raped and
psychologically taken,
click bait;
bleeding into the small tight margins
of Western comics where the Eagle always wins.
Archie and Jughead dispense their puerile rules,
rating us like commodities, stocks that rise and fall;
it’s all entertainment
after all.
Candide Diderot. ‘26
Tony rouses, his circuits buzzing,
the taste of copper lingering in his mouth.
A battlefield stretches behind his eyelids—
always the same one.
Natasha counts her scars like rosary beads,
each one a prayer she never spoke aloud.
The red in her ledger has faded to rust,
but the weight remains.
Steve stands at the window,
his reflection a stranger from 1943.
The shield leans against the wall,
waiting for hands that feel too old.
Thor’s laughter shakes the rafters,
but the lightning in his eyes dims
when no one’s looking.
Asgard is a ghost in his voice.
Bruce folds his rage into origami cranes,
tiny and precise.
The other guy watches from the shadows,
quiet for now.
They gather where the sky is bruised with twilight,
a fractured constellation.
Although the earth keeps revolving,
we humans applaud their brave enterprise.
Five-and-Ten, a ‘Mom-and-Pop’
just down the road
Ye olde-fashioned ice cream shoppe
Round the corner a little bit
an old barber’s pole
Enjoy the flavor of candy-cane wit
Near the station, a musty news-stand
superman comics, Cuban cigars
Circus announcements, strike up the band
All these things: Why, they still exist!
~ etched in memories of indelible mist
~ To the tune of:
'Where Have All the Flowers Gone?' ~
Where have all the comics gone
Long time passing
Milton Berle and Alan King
Long time did their thing
Where have all their insults gone
Long time passing
Don Rickles and Groucho Marx
Echo in empty parks
Where has all the slapstick gone
Long time passing
Larry, Moe, and Curly Joe
Gave way to milquetoast shows
Where have all the tap dancers gone
Sammy Davis, Donald O’Connor
Bumpers and grinders of today
Do the greats a dishonor
Where have all the comics gone
Georgie Jessel and George Burns
Gone the way of Romantic poets’ poems
~ Like Keats’ ‘Ode to a Grecian Urn’
Spawn Variant, with powers unheard,
With magic and strength, your every word.
Shadows and darkness, your timeless reign,
Variant shows a world that's not in vain.
With flick of wrist and flash of light,
Variant transforms the world in sight.
Changing landscapes with spells so rare,
Anything is possible in Spawn's dark lair.
Rivers run red, with blood and fire,
As Variant's powers take gamers higher.
The mountains rise, with peaks so high,
As Variant's magic touches the sky.
The creatures are fierce, unnerving, and bold,
But Variant's magic makes them cold.
With every wave of your hand, you instil the fear,
So that everypath, every step, every end is clear.
With powers so vast, Variant guides the way,
Changing the world, with what you choose to say.
A different world, a new way to survive,
With Variant at your side, bringing you alive.
So come one, come all, join the hunt,
Unleash your powers, and take the stunt.
Embrace the shadows, and rule the land,
For Variant is here, with magic so grand.
With The Dandy, The Beano
The Eagle and Dan Dare
Dick Barton on the radio
The Goon Show on air
Riders of the Range
Journey into space
We kids of the fifties
Had our special place
Glued to the wireless
No screens in sight
The Third Programme the
Home Service and the light
When Sunday night came
Waiting patiently about
For Radio Luxembourg
Fading in and out.
Carters little liver pills
Horace Bachelor’s tips
For winning the Pools
Fish and four of chips
Salt and vinegar Splash
Newspaper wrapping
Listenining to the music
Feet quietly tapping
Playing in the fields
Hours out in the wild
This was the life of
A fifties poor child.
No time to be miserable
Deprived or dull
With such a childhood
So active and full.
Dennis the Menace Desperate Dan
Biffo, Ace Detective Harris Tweed
From the Eagle Dandy and Beano
All those comics we used to read
Snoopy was slamming through the skies
At top speed, stealthier than the other fliers
Flying ace of the year, he assured anyone who would listen
Tweety bird sat in the co-pilot seat, knowing he’d best be quiet
They looped and whorled and rat-a-tatted the enemy
Guns blazing, fierce and untouched.
Sixty-two bullet holes, and they were unscathed.
Snoopy stretched his hand out and knocked over his water bottle.
Dogpatch
Daisy Mae
Little Abner
T. Cornpone USA
Al Capp
Brave and bold Captain America was always there
Standing up for truth and the American way
Captain America flew through the air,
So justice would prevail and save the day.
His distinctive star and billowing cape
Signs of the legend from Marvel’s comic books
He was always able to get out of any scrape
To the disappointing dismay of professional crooks.
FOURTH PLACE WINNER
Written May 8, 2022
for "Captain America" Poetry Contest
sponsored by Robert James Liguori
Some know her as Princess Diana of Themyscira
She jumped onto comic book pages in 1942
Thus, she is eighty years old, but always drawn as much younger
Super powerful, taking on villains in a fashionable way
We recognize those legs and the high red boots
She has a magic lasso that holds the bad guys in place
On November 7th, 1975 she became a three-dimensional hero
You might know her as Wonder Woman
Not a mythical creature,
or the patriarch of a lewd, cartoon family,
you are my roommate.
Well, one of them,
and you have been for two years now.
Superhero posters make your room your own.
Perhaps you’re concealing a secret identity
when you refuse to hang out with us;
on late night drives,
lunch or dinner,
all we do is make awkward small talk.
And you’re the only one
to keep his door locked.
Your girlfriend never comes around anymore,
you’re always at her place,
though, we don’t mind.
Sometimes it’s hard to tell where you are.
Perhaps you’re a murderer,
waiting for us to leave
so you can indulge in violent ceremony.
Whatever you’re into.
In the words of Jerry Garcia,
I implore you,
“Please don’t murder me.”
Some of the sexiest women are Vargas’s 1940 pinup girls,
They are drawn with long hair, sensuous legs, and the right kind of curls.
Enhanced in all the right places, there is nothing that exudes sex faster
Graphic drawings of cattish women are not the kind you put out to pasture.
Do you remember Cat-Woman drawn fearlessly by our old friend Stan Lee?
Hallee Berry brought her to life, but the one who graphically created her was he.
Betty Boop, a cartoon femme fatale’ had style, and sex that could make a sailor blush,
Disney’s artists’ did not draw a Tinker Bell without perky boobs and a little tush.
I believe graphic novels and cartoon classics are here today to stay,
Because the sexy superheroes – both men and women make the reader’s day.
Captain America and Batman have those enormous abs, and a teeny waist.
Jessica Rabbit’s ‘I’m not bad, I’m just drawn that way,” was not penned with any haste.
Written 11-18-2018 Contest: Sexy Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Lewis Raynes
He talks to the fish
And they hear his every wish
He swims in their pee
Way out in the sea.
A crisp art form
As drawings storm
Words and pictures
A strong mixture
Comics tell well
How format dwells
A lovely spell
As tale now tells
Plain black and white
Or colours cite
Pictures frame poise
In vivid voice
Sheer comic art
Touches my heart
Stories of old
In magic bold
Comics speak up
To flood my cup
Leon Enriquez
04 February 2018
Singapore
Find drawings here
In comic art;
Fine lines speak clear
As etchings start.
Sketches now pose
To tell a tale;
Art in fine dose
As plot avails.
Comics can be
A source of ease;
Tension you see
Can play and tease.
Good versus bad
In clash and fight;
Feelings now pad
What's wrong or right.
Seduce the mind
With evil spice;
Watch good you find
Turn not so nice.
Read the story
And smell the plot;
Things turn sorry
In awful lot.
Thought illustrates
What pictures cast;
In abrupt state,
Watch who outlasts!
Ideas of poise
In picture sketch;
Comics now voice
Sheer art to match.
Leon Enriquez
28 April 2017
Singapore
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