If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor – Desmond Tutu
The Trumpet of Parrots
Patriots rally to the trumpet sound,
its blare echoes the lies that bigots breed.
Perched in power, pipers, in pretence gowned,
their hatred spreads, disguised as noble creed.
They stoke the tribal fire in ancient scars,
while hissing hypes to mask the stench of greed.
Their chorus of lies taints Venus and Mars,
who like pawns follow blindly the king’s lead.
Their victims vilified and ridiculed.
Protesters branded as dregs of the state,
by troops of diehards loathsome and unschooled,
As crony capitalists preach their hate.
So, mark the flock that flaps where conscience sleeps:
A nation full of parrots gently weeps.
Green grasshoppers glide gracefully over the ground,
Their glossy gossamer wings glitter all around,
Their glassy feathers generate grandiose sound,
Like glorious gladiators, some golden gowned
gorgeous grigs gallop in their gluttonous manner,
Other garish brown ones glow like grimy scanner
as they hover in swarms like a greasy banner,
Best, stay away from grasshoppers - that's the plan, er!!!
A brotherly jaunt through sinister mirth
behold the brothers Death:
gowned and guided, an ill century
the fourteenth, an alliance of crop, of plague
in ground-down death of torrential pains
in sores and blood under the rains
that drowned the land, starved the bellies
there echoed howls of ill exclaim
a wanting of a light to shine
is where the brothers thought that they
worked well together, effectively
one would scoop from ruined crop
one from sickness, war, attack
the beak, a sign, of the plague mask
in shacks, where hags mopped weeping rot
crosses on doors, on floors of straw
with nothing in the cooking pot
the brothers danced and sang their wealth
of many clientele they sought
and on they went, and on they struck
perfecting songs on appetites
of pestilence and of disease
hand in hand like trees whose leaves
do smother, smite, in murderous breeze
the brothers, down the ages tease
and beckon, wreaking havoc on,
like rolling waves of seas on high
always taunting their sister - life
Sunlight was paling.
Was it drifting on the sea
like an ebbing tide?
It glinted farewell
to a day of sovereignty
as twilight drew nigh.
At the cusp of night
a new monarch took the throne,
glowing was the moon.
Regal as a queen,
gowned in luminous silver,
she decreed her reign.
Celestial diamonds
surrounded her radiance,
facets of starlight.
Supernal nova!
Were they ornaments hanging
in galactic skies?
Incandescent prisms
were reflected in moonbeams
of lambent colors.
Dappled light of morn
was woven with threads of gold
by dawn's gentle hand.
Then, appeared pastels,
lavender, pink and amber,
painted by the sun
on the eastern horizon.
Spring winds blow their sound,
Winter now is bound.
Knees in,
Melted, sludgy-browned,
Green peaks through the ground.
These in,
Nature's own impound,
Exiled now, grave mound,
Squeeze in.
Snow tries to reason,
Get one last freeze in,
Surprise!
Vernal, yet weazen,
March smells a treason,
The lies!
Mad by degrees in,
Arrogant season,
Reign skies!
Hasten Cold's demise,
February spies,
Be drowned.
Viridescent eyes,
Vegetation rise,
Be gowned,
Prep and lionize,
Time yields yearly prize,
Be crowned!
The Wedding Prayer
Your hand I hold,
your ring I place,
our future dreams to unfold.
I see you there,
all gowned in white,
our union we will share.
I pray my Lord,
this bond we hold,
will keep until we get old.
Past chapel fair,
past garden grounds,
our marriage we declare.
And if in sickness,
we cannot be as one,
being by each other’s side,
we preseve our love,
cherishing memories,
and to each other still abide.
by Martin Braun
2.23.2023
The Wedding Prayer
Your hand I hold
Your ring I place
Our future dreams to unfold
I see you there
gowned in white
and crowned with darkened hair
I pray my Lord
This bond we made
will remain until we get old
And if in sickness,
we cannot be as one,
by each other’s side;
Do keep our memories,
and our hearts so dear,
to each other we abide.
by Martin Braun
2.4.2023
Hubble photographed her
in her finest sapphire
and carnelian display;
a wizened sage who’s
gathered knowledge of universes
Orion takes his back seat to her luminosity.
Gowned in her elegant splendor,
Carina’s a nebulous delight,
upon Sagittarius’s Arm
a pageantry of excellence,
as she arrives at the universal ball.
For your eyes only I have clipped the stars of heaven and sent them
shimmering down
For your heart only, have I gowned the earth with snow and
delivered love to you
Like a snow fallen angel from my Father's stainless house,
I have longed for your arrival like a faithful spouse...
Pour yourself over the warming lights of my birth dear child,
I have set you apart alone, but you are not exiled
Inside Noah's ark two by two they came, pair-filed
but here inside this Christmas flame you are undefiled
come inside my warming lights, dear dear child of mine
eat my bread and drink my wine
come and live within my Festive, Sacred Shrine.
Childhood crept through
those long summer days
when the smell of pine
hung in the hot air.
Deep in the shadows
of that besieged acre,
heaven and hell played
out a lethal game
in what crawled, wriggled
or took wing. Death there
was silent and cries
froze in gaping mouths.
Dragonflies patrolled
the boundary
like miniature demons
and in hollows,
mandibles gnawed
on nerves
until the last thread
snapped and let panic loose.
Gowned in finery,
other terrors waited
to welcome fleeing souls
with a fatal sting
or to paralyze the will
and render living flesh
food for offspring.
At night, screams
broke out
and blew across
battlegrounds
to tangle in the thickened
skeins of dreams.
Years on, all have
sunken deeper
and slurried
into a faceless fear.
There are times,
even now,
when you can hear
the sobs of those still
wandering the wastelands
of restless nights
whilst good people sleep.
Beautiful people are washed-up on sandy shores.
More buttery lobster commercials appear.
Evening gowned elites drip like sequined icebergs.
The young are headlong as usual
and will not stop until they mend us into their dreams,
They sew our jester hats with a pitying love just as we did.
It’s impossible to regret anything
when the very ground under our feet
is begging for less fabled tales.
We who still dispense myths like candy
must be seen to be able to function
on the old fictions for a while.
Sum thang that you told .me
Was ah waste of thyme
Never let love control me
I used my mind
Causa know rejection
and the things you put
me thru
In any direction
I am the same
Way thru
Write your own verses
These makes no sense
Gnaw me down to reflection
Been yours ever since
Ain't no confusion
Your love is where it's at
When they spoke marriage
I was right by your side
Bailed my intentions
Gowned couldn't hide
Make it sweet
Get it right
Make this
Have some sense
Soap me up
It's time to rinse
Our interest come from our need to belong
to one another. We love each other and ain't
shamed to show it!
I frowned when I found my new pup was gone,
so, I searched all around for my little foxhound,
listening with profound intensity until dawn.
I was gowned but changed; headed to the pound,
in the eastbound lane that would take me there.
I yelled to expound, '"There's no time to spare!"
Traffic moved slowly, so I found a way round it,
now westbound, my nerves were coiled and wound.
I stopped at a campground and called his name, "Jit!"
I heard no barks or mewling. Not a single sound.
Pup, where are you? Hiding behind a hill or mound?
Did you dig holes in the ground, earthy and browned?
Pup, if you're lost, in salty tears I would be drowned.
Fears abound that I would never see his face again.
My spirits low, not much further can they be downed.
I heard, "Woof!" and my heart beat in quick refrain...
Quickly, Jit ran to me, faster than a racing greyhound!
All this time he'd been asleep in my car's backseat.
My pup continues to astound me with kisses so sweet.
He follows me everywhere, hoping for a doggie treat!
~ April 26, 2022 ~
Nursery Rhyme 3 Contest
Sponsored by Eve Roper
(Contest Rules: Use as many words that sound like:
bound, browned, clowned, crowned, drowned, found
frowned, gowned, ground, hound, mound, pound,
round).
On the forest ground, Fred quickly found
a small bird downed and interwound
inside a nest mound- brown twig bound;
looking around- she chirped a sound.
Inbound winds made the nest unbound!
The bird was round, blue feather-gowned,
and must go homebound to rebound-
away from hounds in the campground.
Now, in the background, was a foxhound!
Fred, helmet-crowned- with bird spellbound
inside downed nest- climbed up, branch-bound,
to rebound nest a safe compound.
The once-downed bird chirped thanks abound!
The newfound branch was safe and sound!
For turnaround, Fred was renowned!
Saved the downed bird- blue feather-gowned!
Contest: Nursery Rhyme 3
Sponsor: Eve Roper
I browned a pound of ground round,
A hound came ‘round and downed it;
I checked the pound; he’s not around.
He’s bound to be found, safe and sound.
They clowned around, gowned and crowned,
expounding on things quite profound.
They walked the grounds; they strode the mound.
They found the hound; he’s safe and sound.
The people frowned; they gathered ‘round,
and wound and wound around that mound.
The sound was drowned; they tiptoed ‘round
the hound they found, the one who’d downed
the pound of ground, so nicely browned.
Remember? That hound!
Related Poems