Long Barge in Poems
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DISCLAIMER: This piece, dear readers, is in no way, shape, or form intended to be a scholarly treatise. So, please bear that in mind and refrain from reporting me to the SPCA or any other animal activist group.
When it's time for some critters to multiply,
The name change to me's where the mess is.
Some simply add "s", such as "lions", at the end,
Or "es" if they want "lionesses".
But for others that same simple rule won't apply,
And though Latin seems stilted, outdated, passé,
Not content with a modest "s" or "es",
With malicious intent they go straight for the "i"
When augmentizing their numbers today.
A few practical ones, such as "deer", "moose", et al,
Don't require any change when they double,
And just when we think we can start to relax,
Some radical rascals, like the "rhino" and "hippo",
Barge in and cause even more trouble.
In my humble opinion, they compound the confusion
By allowing for three ending options for choosin'.
A "hippo" will happily dress in the simplest "s"
When its ranks he is casually swelling.
And it's still not too bad when "es" is added
To "rhinoceros", but watch out for the spelling.
Many haughty ones vie for the more formal "i",
And just when you're sure that's the last to apply,
Comes some miscreant English major whiz
To remind us, in singular, the rhinoceros "is",
But when speaking in plurals, it's equally par
To mention, in passing, the hippopotamus "are".
That's why crittercal math has me somewhat downhearted,
And I wish I could say that some reason I've found
Why some go to such trouble when it comes time to double,
While others are bound to just circle around
And end up right back where they were when they started.
I was not living in the world of expectation,
the expectation so great as to frustrate by word disillusionment.
I am not that young or naïve
to be affected by a word disillusionment;
then, why does the word disillusionment
suddenly barge in my way and harass me in this belated time?
I think
may it be the weight of sadness
getting heavier as age advances.
The greater reason than sadness,
however, is not able to bear its weight
but diminishing strength in direct proportion
with growing age to weight of sadness;
nonetheless,
if the course of water is the same as before
there shouldn’t be much difference between disillusionment
and sadness because if you place these two words on the flowing water
and let them go, who knows, in some day, they may reach a great water
named oblivion.
Many girls of this generation love to wear a Halloween costume...
something unusual, not looking like a fair godmother, they assume.
Madonna is their idol too, more stylish than Lady Gaga, but much they seem to share...
they should choose the costume that will make them look much older than they are.
So girls barge in stores and buy that costume you'll love to wear on Halloween night,
don't grab anything that's out of style with bright colors that don't reflect moonlight.
Look dangerous and manacing and chase away naughty boys dressed as vampires,
step on their tiny toes, if they try to grab you imitating bats with red, bloody eyes.
Have fun and smile, no night compares to this one with all the noise and sneers,
be careful not to stare at them for too long...their teeth are sharper than scissors.
Run and keep on screaming and they will stop chasing you or at least give up,
and if they springle Baby Podwer on you...make believe that's dust from a star.
Man of death
As dawn broke one day
No knock at the door
Cause he knew his way
He broke in
And a life ceased to be
It was her world
He did barge in
Her soul mate
Painfully met his fate
The hands of death
Pierced her heart
And out took a breath
A bleeding cry went far
Tore her whole apart
Aloud his name she called
“Come back my sole soul
In the world of mine
You are installed.
You are walking away
That early
And pieces of you and me
You are keeping at my bay."
Words of ache
Roared their way out
In vain.
Silence of death is around
Undefeatable and mighty
Will always death be
And everything here after is empty
Pieces of her
The blank inside
They fill
Into her heart
They put life
Her night they light
On her mouth
Laughter will gain place
Into her eyes
Love will shine
Hope will wipe grief out
And make her embrace life.
Of all of the maladies
that pay us a call
emptiness must be
the darkest of all
Like a thousand blank pages
of an untitled book
Or a lifetime of savings
that somebody took
This consummate void
that kills all your drive
is made up of darkness
and it eats you alive
And the world brings the darkness
but it offers no cure
Just ten thousand treatments
that man must explore
And just when he thinks
that he's found the right one
the emptiness stabs through
the heart of his fun
And blacker than anything
blind eyes can see
there's nothing at all
where your heart ought to be
So again and again
you try something new
in hopes that this darkness
has pity on you
But alas it shall not
for it knows no remorse
Your only hope now
is in changing your course
No hair of the dog
will ease your pain
It will just further wash
your life down the drain
You've breastfed on garbage
upon the world's teat
but the milk has all curdled
and is no longer sweet
The next time you find yourself
down on your knees
try talking to God
I'm sure He'll be pleased
He doesn't barge in
He's a gentleman, you know
but on your invitation
He'll happily show
He'll take all that darkness
and replace it with light
and all of your troubles
shall flee like the night
So I hope you choose wisely
to start life anew
You can take it from me
I was once just like you
© Mike Wise
4-27-23
I have this inkling feeling each time before i break
a tightness in my chest, i swallow air
and each time i want to discard every piece of you i own
but i forget, forget, forget
i close it off, i just don’t think about it
and silently i let you barge in on my space
and ask for more
all you do is ask for more
then good days turn into bad days
and all my good poetry turns into bad poetry
now i’m standing in the shower thinking over my day
you didn’t do anything but disappoint me
i didn’t get a lot of birthday wishes this year
nor did my grandma send me the right book
but i wasn’t upset, cause there was always you
not anymore, i guess
at least not the way i want it
you make a point of walking over me and then wiping your feet
and i make a point of breaking down and crying like a little kid
and i don’t know how to say that i want to go alone
since you’ll follow me anywhere
but i need you to stop being attached
attached to me, your punching bag
Knock, knock, scritch, scratch
Who’re banging at the old door?
The other whispers hushly
Give in to the turning knob
The good one is no help
Nameless twins barge in
An angel and demon greet
One my bruised conscience
The other a swelling desire
Give their titles respect
Names take their power
Don’t I know their labels?
One demands a stiff drink
The other shyly sipping tea
Tell them to sit or rollover
With names undiscovered
A carrot stick does not tempt
A devils’ eclair batons will bash
They battle for my will
I’m to blame for them
No naming, one overtakes
The elusive one holy as mist
The other solid as dopamine
What are they doing here?
Call out their names to leave
Last call to Beelzebub
Ask Gabriel to stay
But, they are bound to me
Shove one out the door
Conscience will leave
To be free of my Desire
Then Gabriel wants company
Naming them, won’t be enough
Wish I had no four names
At the last table like Christ
When our time is up like Him
When my house and door falls
He’ll call us Judas sweetly
Gabriel, Beelzebub, and I
Chasing 30 silvers, be back
We exit the door to betray
Dragging Gabriel to the bar
Lead to a strange fruit hanging
Desire clutching our reward
Our war'll be over in slumber
Gazing, at its own reflection is the Magpie.
A magic bird, a mystical creature, with a soul
and the power to see things, the power of scrying.
It sees a tomb in ancient Egypt. It sees death.
A soul locked within a glorious bronze mirror,
Cleopatra and her Maid in a bond unbroken.
Time passes in silence as deep as the unbroken
promise of endless wisdom, gifted by the Magpie.
whose caws the Maid hears, within the depths of the mirror,
calls to the Queen, her Cleopatra, to her soul.
Magpie speaks to She on the Eastern Barge in the afterlife of death,
and to her Maid entombed. The sacred bird so near scrys.
The Magpie sits within oasis staring into the pool. It scrys
for all this time, its vigil, its protection, never broken.
Even when the sarcophagus is carried to the necropolis of the dead,
without, unknown, the bird speaks wisely through reflection, her Magpie.
Entombed, his Queen and her Maid, their bodies but not their souls,
Queen, Maid and Magpie, each cast a last gaze, alive within the mirror.
The Vows of Innocence, the Maid bespeaks the mirror.
Pleas to the Swallower of Shades, both Queen and Maid have scried
to The Burning One, and claim no lie, upon their soul.
As the light dims within the Maids eyes, in tomb unbroken,
she sees the life of her Queen and their Magpie
pass fast upon the brass, last breath of life and dying.
Oh, too soon the end, moans the Maid, I am dying.
Her life's reflection moves bronzed upon the mirror.
She screams, "My Queen," but hears only the caw of Magpie.
All around her other servants succumb and cry, whilst she sits scrying,
and the Magpie flies above in life entombed, eternity, unbroken.
As she beseeches all the Gods to save her soul.
The Magpie's spirit self moves within the mirror's soul.
He swoops gathering Cleopatra's essence, past the dying,
and brings her to the Maids side unbroken.
In afterlife upon the Eastern Barge they join the mirrored
whole, for he, the bird of magic, Magpie, has called and scried
it so. Part light of life, part dark of death, the Magpie.
The essence of each entwine united within this eternal mirror
for the Magpie cannot bear their deaths. He will protect and forever scry
in life the mirror sits unbroken a stolen bauble, and in it they dwell with the Magpie.
Walk with me to the end of the street and greet all the people that you meet, take off your diamond ring and toss it the air and set a hat beneath it to catch it, and then you make a wish and catch the diamond ring; when you are done, have a tiny glass of white rum and have some musical fun.
Detour to the upper lane and walk around the curb, turn left, then right then left again, then turn right of center, and run with all the energy you have before the avalanche touch down, walk with me to the end of the street and I will give you everything you need.
Morning comes and I rushed through the door and I found the multitude streaming down the road; the crowd was so thick, and everyone was carrying a golden dish and walking harmoniously to the musical serenade.I couldn’t find a spot to barge in so I took a short-cut on the roof and walked half of the journey without shoes. The element was so strong and I could feel a strong power walking all over the land.
I soar to the sky and watch the universe dies and thick fog covers the earth and hope sinks into the ground and not a trace of residue on the earth could
be found but I kept running and running until I cover the entire ground.
Walk with me to the end of the street, it is where destiny meets.
My memories scatter, like dust of the air,
which once were more numerous than fish in the sea.
Now withered, they re-tell tales of lost youth.
At times my memories congeel and fragment,
so much so,
that I label myself untrustworthy.
I feel an emptyness that my mouth can't quantify, nor words express.
Like my soul is fleeting, ready to leave the sack of bones it hopelessly occupies.
People say that growing old is a curse,
but it's not the outward complexion that grieves me so.
Rather the rattle as my marbles drop and my memories lie in tatters.
I'm scared when the people in white coats barge in.
who say they're 'here to help' , but proceed to strip me of my my dignity,
and use pills to make me helplessly compliant.
Maybe cruel karma has punished me fast.
For little did I empathise, until I truly knew,
what it's like to be a burden, societie's disregard.
And ever shall I wish that humble soul,
will see me not as useless, but marvel at my tales.
And one day, I pray, that someone will,
outstretch to me the hand of compassion.
08.19.2020