Little prince buttercup
How dare you gorge me with those eyes
I am royalty standing alone
My beautiful body being gorged by you
There take that see how you like it
You ugly beast
Maybe that will teach you a lesson
With messing with me
Every bean that I addressed
solemnly pledged to do his best
for the great burrito.
By God, I told them, they were blessed,
that they were better than the rest,
and sliced an avocado.
I poured them into a pot, inside,
and boiled them until they cried,
declaring them finito.
I played a bugle and I sighed,
"how sad that they had died",
and gorged on my burrito.
The maggot is weary of children it eats,
Of women laid down in Rafah's cold streets.
It's tired of salivating on innocent dead,
With no parting words and no tears to be shed.
It dined with the war-lords who broke Palestine's door,
On limbs, and on bullets, and on Hind's final core.
It gorged on a nation, sovereign and free,
And now seeks a prize for its "nobility."
So give the maggot his Nobel Prize,
Who seeks a false peace for his villainous eyes.
A peace made of cluster bombs, blood, and our pain,
On dishonesty's altar, for conquest and gain.
The maggot is sated, his tools are all shown,
In Tel Aviv's fortresses, of steel and of stone.
On aid-seekers' bodies, in Khan Younis's sands,
His peace is enacted by madmen's commands.
Then give him his prize, let the world acquiesce,
And grant his nobility to wickedness.
Let his name be inscribed in the blood of the slain,
For a Nobel bought with terror, and perpetual pain.
Têtes
Je vois, Aristo, que tu les as mis à l'épreuve
Alors qu'ils se battaient entre eux dans les rues
Tu t'es gavé de gâteaux somptueux et de pains raffinés
Alors que les enfants de cette ville n'ont pas à manger
Tu peux acheter leurs âmes malades avec une pièce d'or
Mais tes richesses ne suffiront pas à te purifier de tes péchés
Et ne pense pas pouvoir échapper à la justice
Quand la révolution en marche commencera
Ta corruption s'est propagée comme un cancer
De la Nef jusqu'à la Reine
Alors tu peux compter sur ton rendez-vous
Quand viendra le temps de rencontrer notre Madame Guillotine
HEADS
I see, Aristo, you have put them to the test
As they fight among themselves in the streets
Gorged yourself on lavish cakes and fancy breads
While the children of this city, have not to eat
You can buy their sicken souls with a gold piece
But your riches aren't enough to clear your sin
And don't think you can run a hide from justice
When the revolution on it's way, begins
Your corruption, has spread just like a cancer
From a Nave all the way up to The Queen
So you may count on keeping your appointment
When it's time to meet our Madame Guillotine
We ate the windfall
Jillie Bulson and me
Wandering the orchard
From tree to tree
Apples and pears
Plums and cherries
Then the kitchen garden
To top up on berries.
Constitutions like iron
We gorged our fill
And never ever once
Were we ever ill.
The Orchard still stands,
Jillie sadly recently gone.
Our childhood friendship
In memory lingers on,
Still eating the windfall,
Jillie Bulson and me,
Wandering the orchard
From tree to tree.
Big Ben chimes again
With Bazball zen
One of those men
From special stock
Shepherd of the flock
Hewn from strewn Volcanic rock
From New Zealand's Southern Isle
But only there for a wee while
Mighty flame haired flair laird
Without doubt more about Blighty's North East
They forged this bellicose beast
Ripsnorting sporting cavorting squire
Glutton & gourmand gorged feast
Test town crier
Puffed buffed chest
Inspire..burning
Proper copper topper
Churning fire..
Endless zest..desire
No dull lull
No bore draw
Simple...aspire
To score more!
It's not arcane
Stokes campaign & reign
Train like you're insane
Always entertain!
Remember us flounder
In the gutter
Trounced...17 on the bounce
Could we have found
Pound for pounder
Better all rounder
Nutter...go getter
Sounder founder
Run rate record setter
Of the evolution
And revolution
Of Test cricket
Toe to toe
Blow by blow
Heave ho
Give us a ticket
In the Baz ball or
Ben buzz grotto
Gung Ho motto
You will never know
Till you give it a go!
I have played the coward and the brave,
both the strong and the weak.
A man must be a man, and forget nothing,
keeping close to him
those times of disgrace and honor,
drink both the gall and the nectar
of a far too tell-tale life.
I review, and examine myself
without any escape-hatch excuses.
Clap my hands together loudly
praising this searchlight mind,
that is a ray of infinite power
directed from
the very heart of love.
Are we not all things,
the bold and gentle,
we the lamb and lions
interpreting the patois
of all our incoming angels.
strange they are,
yet we know them,
are them.
I have lived for the wild calls,
and the gentling murmurs,
shared my bread,
gorged from the manger.
This helter-skelter life
will be upheld
in that wordless court
where a life is scrolled out
to retell
its make-believe tales,
and the Light will not judge me,
nor I regret.
Written: January 23, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Regina Mcintosh
"There are twilight times when only the moon will muse on my misery." By POET.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Shadowy stillness does embrace
Showing the town such a showplace
People are fully dressed for sleep
Love aching is a wound so deep
The trees that line the waterway
In morning softness, gentle sway
She has no will but pain and weep
Love aching is a wound so deep
A painter shares his scene with care
Each moment bears a love affair
Regain some bliss others keep
Love aching is a wound so deep
The river's voice is full of pain
Gorged in tremulous skeins of rain
With love, its beauty holds a heap
As it flows onward to the sweep
Love casts a moon hush in the gloom
Seraph love time starts to assume
The moon shone down a hillock steep
Love aching is a wound so deep
GIVE PAUSE
All breaks come due
Every filled gorged hour
In just known little moments
Never one pertinent question
Raising some tension, usually vocally
When x-raying your zip
Huge pie in the sky,
visiting her grandparents.
A lofty and crusty bake
from ages ago.
The chill cellar held jars.
Fruits were homegrown,
handpicked, canned.
Humongous, it was not
an average-sized pie.
The gigantic pie, at least
to a child that remembers,
was gorged on satisfying
fat-purple-blueberries.
I can only imagine a taste,
to take a bite out of
1950’s life. My tongue
red and blue, savoring.
My memory only holds
my Great-Grandma
in a corner chair
in her daughter’s home;
and a couple visits
to our home
with her sister.
At least I remember that,
but paint me purple,
or let me go closer,
for her granddaughter
made me rhubarb pie.
That’s my mama,
whose Great-Grands
will only mostly recollect
what I surrender
from the past.
How dark the night, when the end came
and love vanished in a voiceless turbulent moment
when eyes pulled away, leaving a vacuum
as pain and sorrow blackened the skin of my heart
Allowing tears to fall and reverberate
in the recesses of my soul
with a thunderous throbbing depression
that sullied my world
leaving ragged roots of despair
that gorged themselves
on the passion of my soul's soil
Where footprints led to the open gate
where strings of unknown reasons
played on my heart
like the sound of a sad violin
calling my soul, seeking a melody of understanding
in a night of upheaval
that rushed toward me with melancholy tones
of misery
stripping away the joy of love
leaving a black sackcloth of ashes
that was plowed into my dead garden
of love
revealing crushed furrows of turbulent ground
where the roots of love once grew
and is now an empty windblown field
drenched in darkness, where nothing lives
but my grief-stricken memories of love
There was a time..............
WHEN purity and innocence prevailed
WHEN the island was saturated with
prolific rows of coconut trees
grounded in fertile soil
WHEN the land was richly decorated
with bountiful trees that bore
tropical fruits
WHEN native people lived in humble
abodes and nurtured the virgin land
WHEN the sultry air was gorged with a
mesmerizing aroma
WHEN there was peace of mind
and spiritual awakening of the indigenous soul prevailed
Standing still in the center of a
vast ocean, it was untouchable
There was a time.............
when purity and innocence prevailed
the weather was hot, women were hot,
the beer was cool, and I had a few!
the food was so good, I gorged a lot,
slept with a beauty I hardly knew.
the waves roared in and splashed out all night,
coconut palms wriggled belly dance,
the full moon was drunk and flickered light,
the bats hung upside down in seance!
around me was laughter and giggles,
weather and drinks bring best in romance,
all shapes, all ages, like coloured pickles,
jam of humanity grab their chance!
sunny morn probed my sedated sense,
knocked on my eyelids to open door,
I swore profanities! no offence,
sleep was heaven, and I wanted more!
soon i was nudged on my naked butt,
by an unknown paw, I kicked it off,
in my mind i thought- must be some s*ut
and mumbled something to say f*** off!
Then surprise! a big tongue licked my face,
I opened one eye, saw a black bear,
I got up and ran! feared it might chase,
but the bear looked away, did not care,
But I ran and ran like in a race!
I still recall those days of travels,
and many tales that I can tell,
but thought of that bear churns my bowels,
its black tail is a nightmare from hell!
It's Hell twenty-third century, they con Troll,
got shot in the brain nothing vital,
though my mind's at a loss an absence, helloo,
I am but a guess in my own house,
it sense I do naught exist for breath wit hold,
me, the unwonted in touchy halls,
a stairway estranged to each step of my soul,
scared lost balance give aweigh myself,
the battery--can't take it, no spark left, woe
I was beside myself, I can't move,
phone, I called, no answer, where is it ... nooo,
finally, I'm out -- there's no ESCAPE!
trachea's gorged too much oxygen, can't breathe, ohhh!
Red Queen
I plunge my gorged soul
into your rabbit hole
looking for a red queen
perfumed in between
the sexes not binary
a lovely green fairy
smooth and perfumed
Love always doomed.
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