Vandals,
graphity,
is it an eye sore
or art on the wall
We all leave our mark
Monumental or small
Chiseled in stone
Or in memories
Don't be forgotten
Like the wind on a breeze
Whether it's grand or merrily a speck
In infamy
LIVE
Without a regret
The best thing of all …
a memory treasured
The worst thing of all …
a memory shamed
Blessing the one
cursing the other
To live on beyond us
— in praise or blame
(Dreamsleep: January, 2024)
A beautiful sunny day,
In the land of paradise.
Thunder rings in the distance as my,
Pulse quickens, and dread takes over.
There are no clouds in the skies,
I sense the devil is approaching.
Looking down from the mountain of heaven,
I see the hellfire from the,
Circle of blood from the devil.
The fire and blood falling from the sky,
As they hit the grey ladies when they sink.
Within a flash, I see thousands of bodies,
Flying, bleeding, and dying defenseless,
Against the devil,
The devil who flies in the sky, with the circle of blood.
This one act of cowardice will fuel the anger of,
The nation, which will ultimately lead to war.
This will be known as the Day of Infamy.
It is a day that America will never forget.
So this be the day after
nineteen forty-one
Be December the eighth, the
nightmare has begun.
Pearl Harbor still in blazes
all watched the Pearl dull,
Bodies are everywhere, some
crawl or ... not at all.
Some boats are okay, though they're
mostly smaller ships,
Large ones burning, some capsized ...
need to come to grips.
"We are having our jobs cut
out for us, Franklin,"
"Do you think my namesake has
some sort of game plan."
"They sure dropped on us, we should
put the drop on them."
"Government can make something
we can throw at 'um
"Infamy, Frank's way over
there, and it's just us."
"Last I heard, all his four son's
giving dad justice."
"Serving somewhere ... let's holster
the guns." "Right, a-ha!"
"Don't need 'um carrying the
stretchers, GO!" "Oorah!"
Oh the disgrace
Infamy and shame
The ridicule that’s now
Poured on her name.
There’s no escape
For she’s been seen
Trying to fake a pair
Of Designer jeans.
She couldn’t afford
The poor dear soul
The real thing and so
She cut her own holes
She fooled the world
For just a little while
Except they didn’t have
That designer style.
No ragged edges,
They looked too neat,
Too contrived and
Not really incomplete .
Sent to Coventry by
Her fashionable peers
Subject of ridicule
Whenever she appears.
Oh the disgrace
To be publicly seen
With fake holes cut
In counterfeit jeans.
She wears whole jeans now
One of the new fashion bold
And tells the world at large
Her legs are no longer cold.
Infamy is not dignified.
Or pleasant.
As the speculation would pool around me.
I would find myself degrading.
And feeling horrified.
Shaking from the travesty-
The one used to keep me safe.
Steeping in the empathy-
That they say I’m not capable of.
Colors in the sky
Red dots winged evil
Black stench of flaming fear
Rainbowed path of burning oil
Whistling sting of shrapnel’s stolen lives
A sunny Sunday gone wrong
The tattered flags
RED WHITE and BLUE
John G. Lawless
©12/7/2022
That bright young President shot down in Dallas
who turned out to be an addict and philanderer.
And don’t get me started on our most
recent former President and his insurrection.
That hundred-meter sprinter who held an Olympic
Record overnight until his urine tested positive.
That cohort of steroid taking home run hitters who
demolished Maris’ record and now in the Hall of Infamy.
That Bills back who still holds rushing records but
might well have got off Scot-free with murder.
That person you though you would become
who became the person you are.
If Narcissus had just been a female
she would not have been infamous at all
Admiring her locks in clear water
she might have been anyone’s daughter
I am not honored, nor am I brave.
It is infamy that I crave.
I know, I know- you can not believe.
That what I want this Christmas Eve.
Is not hope nor is it pray.
Listen now to what I have to say.
I wish, I wish my words would stay.
Written in paint, not covered in gray.
Infamy , infamy
Whu does life have it infamy
And how do i know this
May i refer you to merely today's
prime example
Earlier i ordered my regular
Chicken Jalfrezi made bespoke
mild , 3 crackers , rice and
a naan bread
From Saffron my favorite Indian
takeaway
Got home only to find what's
in the bag is this
Not 3 but 1 cracker and
zero naan bread
Ok not a train crash as such
i can still make this work
Until i innocuously knocked
the table
And spilt my coke all over it
So in effect what i had or shall
i say was left with was this
No drink , no naan bread
1 cracker and curry and rice
swimming in coke
And after that was forced
into eating
The only thing i had left in my
kitchen and cupboard
A bowl of cereal with very little
milk and half dry toast
What can I say, shocked and appalled, but this day has been long in coming.
The South has never forgiven nor forgotten our Civil War of 1865. What surprises me is that I am a witness to this spectacle. I can't imagine what our allies must be thinking. But I can imagine what our enemies do. This is a shame and a horrible mark on my country.
These next ten days will prove to be this Nation's manhood. It must survive.
It will survive, I do believe. I can't believe I am seeing History fail us. I can't believe Democracy is gone.
On the eve of anew leadership for This country and the high cost of loss to our country that has been paid, America will stand Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. DEMOCRACY WILL STAND.
infamy
the war to end all wars
did not
thus are the endless battles
ever fought
for we refuse to learn
lessons taught
by empty windows draped
with golden stars
by those who carry still
war’s hidden scars
John G. Lawless
©12/7/2019
The lightning, it was over bright
Arthritic trees, stripped bare of leaves,
seemed skeletal, inflicting fright
The lightning, it was over bright
as if the devil's acolyte
The world shall beg for mercy, please!
The lightning, it was over bright
_______________________________________________________________
6/17/16
For Contest: First Line Prompt - 2
Sponsor: Julia Ward
Another day void of daydreaming,
a clean smile has perished, drowned
under our policies of greediness.
The oceans of the planet won’t hide
our infamy or conceal our sins.
Perfectly pure hands have been crucified
on a cross of sanctified water.
Sad lamentations carrying over
of never ending horrific crying.
The lifeless body of an infant
looking at us,
brushed ashore by hunger.
© All rights reserved. Marcela Villar M. Author 2015
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