The image of the letters of Déjà Vu
Tells it true.
The eyebrows of the 'e' and 'a'
cast a frown, with the 'j' the snotty nose in between.
Its the face of a frown, not a smile.
For Déjà Vu stirs the heart with wishful view.
With a canvas painted by a hopeful mind,
waiting for 'match-up' to gel and bind
links to the past, on a dead-pan bridge to the future.
Providing supposed certainty, sense and purpose,
rather than what chaos disgorges
as fate and destiny re-written,
by flaps of butterfly wings.
For Déjà Vu
is a tricky, deceptive, perpetual lier,
that begs to lead you astray
with its endless declension to past tense
tainting the present with has-been conspiracy theories,
collated in albums of recollections
dusty, vague and worn-out.....
With some apprehension, he prepared to write;
with his muse’s dissention, there’d be no insight,
and thus, by extension, no joint, shared delight.
With her added dimension, he’d dared lofty heights.
In joyful ascension, they’d paired on long flights,
but now, in declension, grievance aired, all seemed trite.
It was his intention to square with his sprite -
Contention impaired him; he hated the fight.
Ego in suspension, to her laird, much contrite,
he sought his redemption, aware of his plight.
Their convention fared better than he thought it might;
his affections declared, they were once again tight.
Their shared penchant for flair soared into the bright light.
----------
something a little different - a monorhyme with two internal rhymes per line as well...
Agricola……
so started Gaius Caesar’s last assault
a farmer, who we hated by default
for Latin somehow came to rule our world
as meanings of declension slow unfurled
Thus, were we tossed into the forum’s pit
to grapple with the words and how they fit
to stand alone before the silenced crowd
to read our mock translations, mumbling loud
as he, with leaders of judgement’s phalanx
resembled pirates as we walked the plankx
plunged into the ablatives and datives
for none can speak a language as the natives
and so we settled for our Cee’s and Dee’s
as Gaius Caesar brought us to our knees
for laughter accompanied declension
followed by a visit to detention
©2/10/2022
Latin Lessons Poetry Contest
Tiny seed with embryo in toe
awaits the sower to decipher
all it's wants and needs,
to grow captive, in plots and pots.
Nature knows the needs of seeds off by heart.
Growers learn the code of what and when
by rote declension recitals of scripts,
and wasteful trial and error plantings.
Such failed trials and tribulations prove
costly to seeds left to rot, freeze-dry and die
when sown in cold, parched and barren,
foreign lands.
Skipping is binary,
one, nought, one, nought, one.
Clip clop.
Tick tock.
One foot up, skip.
Next foot up, skip.
Hop, step and jump,
'tis hopscotch time.
Heart in love, skips a beat.
Electrons skip in quantum rings,
dangling their participles.
Skipping off-beat in music
it's syncopation.
Flat stone, flat-thrown
bounces, skims and skips 'oer pond
plink, ploink, plink ploink, plonk.
Notice, perchance if you will,
each skip is smaller, than the one before,
descending in declension to rest.
hic, haec, hoc
huic, huic, huic
hunc, hanc, hoc
hoc, hac, hoc
Aah
Man’s intrinsic apathy's negligence-justified frown
Is the actual defining substance of a mortal clown;
Who with hollowed prejudgments fellow men slays,
And likens to hallowed duty his thoughtless decays.
He is evil's meekest martyr by doom's onus bound,
The cold-blooded outlaw donning dark's lucid veils;
His the bounden call to trim unwary lives that thrive,
His a sworn charge to hit to halt sea's merriest sails.
They're hell's happiest saints of true devoted cadre,
Obstinate desperados who without real reason hate;
Theirs rare glories for wanton vitriol by meanest fate
Met on innocent casualties of villainy's vicious adder.
What grand gratification fills world's cruelest hearts
That sting undeserving souls in most delicate parts?
Why do allegedly feeling minds grow numbest to cry,
Whilst their pleading victims in iron malevolence die?
How can life’s most cognitive kind find sweet preys,
In other creatures alike in mien and all visible ways?
This is a day of real deep declension
the clouds look to be drawing near
Jesus warned us of such an evil day
when mankind will have much to fear
This world has consistently rejected God
more and more as the years have gone by
they're without excuse as judgement comes
then the great judge will declare you must die
Peter warned of this in his first epistle
telling all that the end was in sight
exhorting believers to be much in prayer
making sure our pleadings go into flight
Be praying with a real seriousness
making sure to be contacting every day
with your saviour and Lord who hears you
He will listen carefully when you pray
Learn to be ever watchful all around
be on your guard as Satan seeks to attack
on your knees looking up for God's provision
then the Lord's armour won't ever crack!
('But the end of all things is at hand; therefore be serious and watchful in your prayers.')
1 Peter 4: 7 (NKJV)
Sparring with demons, and dragons and deadheads
It bobs and weaves like a drunken sailor.
Omnipresent, omnipotent and omniscient
I'm quite attached to it - joined at the psyche.
Image of an incubus twirling as I do.
Patron Saint of agony, I curse it
And relegate it to a 2nd-class personage.
Out, damn spot, out - and take the blood with you.
When I am naked, it is clad (no projection),
No libido, no tumescence, no consummation.
How's that for a declension?
When it ascends, I float in the ether.
This hermaphrodite queen is superior
To all mono-sexual beings
And since I am bound and bounded
It supplies the rope, the pins and the Worchestshire Sauce
Third person singular with plural overtones.
No objection for this object of my affectation.
Alas, the narcissus cannot not spin like lilies,
But only vegetate with the legumes.
The coda, finale, epilog await
Looming like a sarcophagus awaiting its occupant
And alcohol cannot still the tooth
That nibbles at its soul.