All that was left were remnants
of shattered memories ~ emblazoned
in my mind,
as if it was all still there,
when Sunday salvation was
at peace with the sun
and sermons of love were
bled in glass...
now shards on the chapel floor,
and, like sand castles on the shore
were washed away in an angry tide
where waning life stained the sand
crimson red...
and lead was rained in bullets,
not to frame etherial light.
Sacrifice has an ambience of more
than just ~ pretty colors...
Written June 12, 26
for Nette's "All That Glass" contest
___________________________
Profanity in politics is on the rise what with Trump’s foul mouth: ‘open the fu*kin’ Strait’; ‘I’m screaming my as* off’; ‘Shi*hole countries’; ‘Full of sh*t’, and many more. So, it is apt that he gets as much as he gives for his obscenities and hair-brain political hocus-pocus. Washington Post finds: 93% of Trump speeches in his second term contained at least one vulgar word (from 40% in his first term). Yea, he deserves this nomenclature Tuck Frump, an apt spoonerism.
____________________
TUCK FRUMP emblazoned on T-shirts,
I hail US youth and its guts
For this Spoonerism,
Love of free speech, freedom,
Which, in my land for its lack hurts.
Gutsy free speech is fine
Save when crosses the line—
What this loud, foul mouth often blurts.
______________________________
Happenings | 27.05.2026 | American, freedom, speech, spoonerism, Limerick
I lost my mind today -
Oh boy -
and all the thoughts I had
just seemed to vanish
in the haze
surrounding my head
It seemed so wise -
so potent -
so infinitely dull -
complete with thought, effete with pomp
emblazoned on its skull.
An ounce of heart
a pound of spleen
a smattering of phlegm
A bit of code
a bunch of will
And a thick soup of memes:
All this was all mixed
and cut to bits
A chewy marble blend
From which I built
A vague relief
Of life that I intend:
Where has it gone, do tell me?
Where is my upscale mind?
I look without,
I look within,
But nothing can I find.
It seems the mind has melted
And I must build anew
Today's mind-melded structure
With but a quart of glue.
TRIBAL TATTOO REGRET-:-
permanent
geometrical
monumentum
intertwining
symbols
inked FLUIDITY ETCHINGS
emblazoned
Tebori
linework
scarifying
pigment
in ZIGZAGGING ALTERNITIVES
patternization
timeless
unwanted
laser
removal
The house on the hill beckoned me
its lawn a page from Ripley’s Believe-it-or-not
One-half manicured like a five-star golf course
the other half a wasteland teeming with weeds and rot
Against my will, my feet led me up to its nearest edge
breathing in the nectar of monarchs on the wing above sludge…
The human skeleton standing in the doorway elicited my scream
his blood-stained orbs flashing a murderous gleam…
He buried me in an open-air grave
these words emblazoned on my headstone
~ Here lies my ‘White Slave’
Buffeted by Fire Darts, Matters Not
Feel the Righteous Fell Swoop Of God,
No Sword Unforged, All Souls Counted For
when All is Lost, All is Found, Alas Heavens Galore
Rollin Forth like Steel, In Zeal Esque like Coats Of Arms
In Shields, like Cavaliers, we Illumine like Stars
No Tip to Cold, Emblazoned by the Light
A Blade so Just, so to a T, So Bright
Ever - Ablaze
the Faith, it Shines like Solar Rays
Into the Nights like Knights of Ancient Days
with Courage, and Valor, and Ankhs and Sage
Upwards into the Golden Cathedral where Hosanna Dwells
through the Pillars of Jerusalem, past the Valleys of Hell
Upstanding by the Ideal, Israel Rises Above Vicissitudes
where Victory is Acquired, and the Sword turns Absolute
Green verge and pale blue river flow,
silver clouds skim mountain peaks,
golden blissful moment captured,
caught in a swirl stream recent past,
vivid sight emblazoned on the mind,
they lie asleep in vernal berth
A challenge with a warning
An earthquake then tsunami
With promise of a rainbow in the morning
Vibrant true and natural
Earnest sweet and actual
A drive to keep surviving
Always seeking, always striving
Succeeding and then thriving
The embodiment of hope
Never failing to adapt endure and cope
The chaos in her wake can sometimes seem so devastating
But her forward footprints tell the story of the beauty she's creating
Exuberant daring and fun
Brazened and emblazoned by the sun
She lives at the horizon's edge
Her life a testament a promise and a pledge
Are they not
the chosen
who are blessed
unto Heaven’s recall
Are they not
resplendent
who hear past the din
to eternity’s fall
Are they not
emblazoned
with Majesty’s light
from a fire within
Are they not
unwelcome
when days are at end
— and the music begins
(1st Book Of Prayers: September, 2025)
Wood polished so bright to mimic gold,
Its yellow coat glitters in the sun,
May even fetch a high price when sold,
And still be cherished in the long run.
Like a flawless gold that flaunts great wealth,
Its glamour, a pride to regal thrones,
Where most kings recline in pride and health,
Yet it's mere wood disguised as gemstones.
Great craftsmanship like that of goldsmiths,
Who shape raw gold to forge pure beauty,
So carpenters carve wood into myths,
Emblazoned pride into their duty.
I blow smoke of dreams to daffodil streams,
beneath the sky, engrossed in love’s last sigh,
while this heart quivers, drunk on astral fever,
in the kohl-lined arms of the cold midnight,
kissing my soul in silver slivers…
O velveteen warrior, allow my gaze to trace lifelines~
sailing interstellar seas of electric stars
wrapped in whimsical wisps,
to leave our closing phrase on the lips of moon-haze,
as I breathe the silk of Luna’s wistful breeze~
drawn from the rosy dusk of his restless repose...
And this pearl ~ the nebulous clarity ~
emblazoned in pixelated poetry,
shall be the timeless spark of twin flames,
amidst the pull of bruised-blue silence…
Serpents slither here. Scorpions hide beneath our bed spreads.
Spiders, bugs, sticks, ants, and centipedes occupy our beds.
We have coasts. But what use of these? They burn with sultry heat.
Pirates sail to our harbours with their armour-filled fleet.
Predators of all kinds have filled our once lovely islands.
Where, once, flora and fauna flourished, wattles and burrs shake hands.
Our architectural castles seem to crack and collapse.
Dilapidated sanctums of temples reveal time's lapse.
Archaeologists try to explore our mausoleums.
They find noxious inland Taipans in murky museums.
Dogs bite their masters; cats, like tigers, cull their lords with claws.
Cows, bulls, and goats butt, stamp, and pin their herders for no cause.
Arrogance and aggression emblazoned by humankind
Their hearts and minds by evil thoughts, words, and deeds are maligned.
This place too is made by God, I know, like other places.
But, to cut the heads of others, here, each one runs races.
Be sparse like the saltbush plains
of the outback, short on adjectives,
mostly verb and noun. Let the sun
scorch shadows into the sand,
hollow out some shade where a little
life can hide from the heat.
Celebrate the light, its clear passage
through the air, hard as the sharpened
edge of a steel blade. See how it cracks
the land, opens wounds where
the inland snake hides and brews
its venom in perfect silence.
At night feel a cold descend
from a sky emblazoned with stars
set in the icy distances of space.
Endure a solitude that drains the soul
as it leaks out towards horizons
of absolute nothingness,
here,
come face to face with yourself.
Note.
The Australian outback is largely
a dry and unpopulated area covering
around 70% of the total land mass
of the country.
By comparison, this arid region
equates to a little over 50%
of the area of the United States,
( excluding Alaska ).
A long time ago, grandpa told me
amateur athletes crossed oceans and paid the fees
Every four years a noble spirit arose
emblazoned on a torch, fiery and free
A spirit clear, shining bright and true
the Olympic spirit, one that cut through
The claptrap of power, regulation and rules
crossing the finish line in brotherhood
Trailing clouds of glory do we come
Until by the end we are left dull and glum.
How it all came to this
We are responsible
For being so remiss
The magic of our early moments
Emblazoned in our minds
Fades and disperses with every pressure
Our world brings to bear upon our pleasure
Exams, bills, targets, workday worries
blunt our perceptions
And drive them undergound
Occasionally to spark alive in a dream state
Eluding our grasp
once we come to our senses
Wide awake and once more blind
How to recapture
And to resurrect
That rich inner spirit
Which came with our birth
That should be our aim
Too many earthly concerns
Within our clay
Must take the blame
For that loss of courage
To break free from the constricting frame
Forcing us
To forget the beauties of the day
To play the stultifying economic game
The stifling straitjacket of life
Keeps us playing
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