Long Catapulted Poems
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One of the greatest classical composers was a Prussian.
Herr Bach went by the name of Johann Sebastian.
Laboring at his harpsichord, his compositions were many.
He wrote a rather short tune that was quite pretty.
It had an upbeat, allegro type melody.
His famous piece was the “Minuet in G”.
Along came three young women in the twentieth century.
‘The Toys” would become this trio’s adopted name.
One hit song catapulted them all to fame.
With a small band, they entered a recording studio.
Their production became a hit nearly everyone would know.
They sold many recorded copies of “Lover’s Concerto”
If Johann Sebastian were alive today, he would be pissed.
He could not get a copyright, and all those royalties were missed.
Inspired by a video from You Tube
Until recently many had never heard of this man's name
But tragic circumstances have catapulted him to fame
A lawyer and a comedian then in two thousand and eighteen
He decided to become involved in the Ukraine's political scene.
In two thousand and ninteen he won the presidency
And vowed to maintain freedom and democracy
Once in office he worked hard, giving it his best
And wanted a good relationship with countries in the west.
Alarm bells rang in Moscow and a decision was made
Putin wanted the Ukraine back and decided to invade
He thought it would be easy and over in a few days
But didn't account for the Ukrainians, who didn't want the old ways.
He called on his people to bear arms and to stand up and fight
Thousands came forward to stand against Russia's military might
They had once won freedom and wanted to keep it at any cost
But Russian aggression then bombed cities with many lives lost.
It has been a week now the Ukrainians are not giving in
And sending a clear message to the aggressor Putin
Who's responded with barbaric acts of total aggression
And unleashed on civilians, weapons of mass destruction.
President Zelensky has been offered the chance to get away
But said " I'm fighting for my country and here I will stay"
Whatever the outcome of this conflict he will stay until the end
He's an honourable man and on one you can depend.
The whole world is behind him and holds him in admiration
He stands ready to fight and give his life for his proud nation
To retain Ukraine's freedom he will do everything that he can
And compared to the aggressor Putin he's ten times the man.
Written 3rd March 2022
Written: January 16, 2024
_________________________________________
Ephemeral grave is tangled with gloom,
Putting faith in ethereal womb of doom.
Being without other choice but to exist,
Simply succeed while enigma will persist.
Decreased exertion and surrender of disgrace,
Observe as contrasts come together and embrace.
Lord may lift souls while they are in bliss,
All sources laud benefits of imbibing happiness.
Self-isolation from these events is crucial,
Ample mythologically adorned quilts are brutal.
Geometries persistent digits flicker and tear,
When slight hints fade sparkles may flare.
Say farewell to wailing, sobbing, and conflict,
To grasp, be silent as if one were on a kids list.
If you've had a blind tantrum, crying will ease,
Manage to hold back a few tears and freeze.
An ambiance that exudes the subconscious,
Fosters you to shun the world's vicissitudes.
To grasp the initial deeds of sane conscious,
Bear tweaks to cycles, sites, and attitudes.
Invoke kinetic and spatial faces of happiness.
To gain and claim deep solace with meditation.
When you block out snark and scrappiness
Intrinsic in craziness and disgrace of attention.
You feast on an evil, hedonistic world,
Wealthy and potent live there, trampling poor.
Individuals catapulted, coiled, and furled,
To decay on edge of bliss land as a pest boar
I lost focus and was just lying, living free,
Blindness revealed the demon's void spree.
You can't find peace if you're mired in excess,
Let chaos cease, undo the knot of joy access.
An ailment is reborn in recesses of mind.
Once-ignored psyche is hardly idle behind.
Ancient souls were rekindled—an ardent revival.
Vivid delight is now tinged with teary cheer arrival
Nothing boot toe till rot and duff feet...
Attempting nightly ritual
nsync with sole and
instep of beat
January second 21:08
two thousand twenty
footwear equipped with
custom made cleat
proudly standing tall
(think) as an elite
able, eager, and ready
to sprint skyhigh fleet
ting into netherlands
(towering well over
other wiry antennae thin contestants,
hence exception to
maximum height waved
outrageous illegitimate forfeit
chore blithely Atlas shrugged off),
whereby said marathoner Olympian
amidst godly pantheon did greet,
competitors crouched tigerlike
ironically melting starter blocks
deftly gunning generating barreling heat
fast as greased lightning
Achilles catapulted courtesy blur,
zee mist tree (oak kay)
man, i.e. helpmeet,
he roundly squared off
accompanied by his wifely entreat.
Thus situated, positioned, and finagled
husbandry duty obliging the misses,
no matter she kick started
(think thrashing outsize overgrown toddler)
childish task deemed
markedly cockameemie design,
subsequently these little feet (mine)
stood stolid upon bedroom floor
she did man date me,
I supplicated, necessitated,
implored, and decried divine
intercession, cuz thee mademoiselle
did authoritatively assign,
thee mister getting mine
handy dandy grip upon her supine
corpulent physique
outstretched leaden legs
awaiting (Abby) salute perfect sign
to commence powerfully
prying and pulling
first straight then nine
tee degrees practically prostrating self
footloose and eventually
detaching fancy free
thunder thighs, what strong
amazing anatomical design
nearly defying might
of super Matt nein
bird brainer heron,
an ill eagle cro-magnon scheme
to untie clodhoppers
snug as a bug in a rug,
whence laces got knotted
freaking me out clearly
out this world,
wide webbed formerly
Gordian tangled skein.
A lady was throwing out the trash
She was desperate to earn some cash
She tossed books in the air
Dumped them off without care
Then startled when she heard a big crash
She collected the pieces of glass
Catapulted them onto the grass
Then curled up for a rest
Leaning on the old chest
Until several hours had passed
Waking up in the late afternoon
To the sound of the mockingbird’s tune
She bumped into the hook
And knocked over a book
Titled ‘A Surrender to the Moon’
Her gasp of delight did ricochet
Around the backyard in disarray
Her prized anthology
Filled with mythology
Complete with her poetic essay
She published her first poem ever
Bound together to last forever
In this book so cherished
Never will be perished
Because it’s a national treasure
Waristory
Pendulum past tense, battled defense
unswift mind quick to react.
Wartime rebuild a mortar field,
punctured life, chest cracked.
Catapulted Knight, a Pagans fight,
confused Gods accidently ruin man.
Silent swords of evil lords,
psychotic minds with psychotic plans.
Religious artifact, the Hatred Pact,
Maniacal brilliance dillusional state.
Conquered greed the extermination seed,
star crossed in a red blanket of hate...
bmdavey@
03/03/16
Driving down the road, in a sea of snow, barely able to see.
Each flake passing by like a tiny universe, pays no heed to me.
The halo headlights of an on coming car , half a mile away.
The soporiferous snow, lulled me back to the events of the day.
Early in the morning, their loud yelps, without any warning :
My dogs saw a turkey, their leashes, torn from my hand.
The sun was nowhere to be found, starring at shadows on the ground.
I followed the turkey, the dogs, by their sound ; Bright, White, Light.
Oh MY GOD : I'm in the wrong lane, I hope it is quick , I don't like pain.
Like sonic Thunder : Metal smashing Metal : My life went through my Brain.
The hood catapulted into the windshield, hurling shard glass into My Breast.
OH MY GOD : LENORE I'm coming HOME; MY SOUL can finally REST.
Then I Awoke
Remember all the Wise Men on their knees upon your yacht?
With orphans on their backs they’d crawled (with others that they’d brought)
Through rubble on the highway sands and residues of Lot.
They came from severed cities selling postcards of your thoughts,
Though offered for a penny piece, not even worth a jot.
They mused
“How are you feeling? What it is you want, you’ve got.
The words you scrawl on calling cards: ‘I AM – the others NOT’
Shun wisdoms of the Seven Seas: ‘Salvation can’t be bought’ –
Your fathers tried before you and your fathers came to naught.
“You started out by gelding goats and then by casting lots
Of bodies to the battlefields, contorted, tight and taut,
Then wallowed in the wake of trails the dervish devil trots.
“With marching bands of fatherlands, and drums of Hottentots,
You lure your legions in harm’s way like giant juggernauts.
Like Tweedle Dum your minions come (the sober and the sots,
The troglodytes, barbarians, and mislead patriots,
The Vandals, Huns and Hannibals and seaport Cypriots,
The Japanese, the Congolese, Americans and Scots)
To vanquish bows and arrows, spears and catapulted shots
Of those who hide in bamboo huts their families, pale, distraught,
(Their withered wives with dried up breasts, their swollen babes in cots)
Who swoon, engulfed in poison darts and vats of acid hot,
Consumed by magic mushroom clouds, atomic megawatts.
“In churches of your deities, your Holy Huguenots,
Your Imams, Rabbis, Voodoo Dolls and Mitered Lancelots
Lit wicked kindled candled walls in temples (while we fought)
(Used pins and needles, magic spells on makeshift mock whatnots)
And mosques, cathedrals, synagogues have blessed each new onslaught
With prayers for pipers, puppets, pawns, your rigid armed robots.
Continued in Part 2…
Pls,I don't want to leave you behind,
You were blown to this far place to revived,
And it seems to you that,you're not a dignitary,
Just guess what is next after you're nailed to a territory,
The anxities of the world has really catapulted you on many occasion,
If you should tell me your feelings,something perhaps might be so wrong somewhere,
The observers and the pedestrians are ready to accumulate different trust fare,
The physical optical sense can't see my home from this realm,
Fighting a good fight under this very sun,
The question was deeper to find its answer,
"Where is home,prodigal son?",
Friends make good out of the bad master,
From the corners of the world comes the shadows of mood,
The mountain is so high,
Dearth is not for you,
The flesh is very shy,
Untill the breathe returns to the creator,
Touch my hand,feel my palm....look through my face,
Desperately,the five wise virgins can't wait for favour,
No one knows my thought to trace.
I turn off damn ringer,
nonetheless...
telephone still buzzes
twenty four seven
eight days a week
automated telephone calls
digitally recorded message
perfectly spoken English
differentiation to distinguish
"FAKE" simulation
all bot impossible
totally immune to escape
gagging hospitable invective
electronic jawboning immunized
against antipathy, cruelty, enemy,
hostility, insecurity, pleasantry
Yukon run to tallest mountain
dive into Mariana Trench
get catapulted into
outer limits of twilight zone,
yet NEVER be free and clear
getting wirelessly zapped
with visual ad audiological
offal dregs and spam
oh... , yes even after life,
while weightlessly
pinwheeling in limbo,
particularly during eternal sleep,
when dead souls repose
six feet deep
or corpse undergoes cremation...
yepper, infiltration into atomic core
blithely battered, jimmied,
cherry lee pitted, tweaked,
worse fate than return of Zombies
electrical essential existential
incorporeal surreal auditory ordeal
spurs indiscriminate human
to relish golden silence
spawning best selling novel
to flesh out fiction
Utopian treasured island story
winning unknown author
instant acclaim and glory
describing village people
livingsocial, free and clear
without annoyingly,
egregiously, infuriatingly,
maddeningly, quaveringly
vexing, nauseating, disrupting
blitzkrieg courtesy aggravating
trumpeting autonomous programs
hijacking brainstorming concentration
thwarting aim tug get back on target
(even when carrying on camping)
sundering coalescence
regarding colonizing black screen
aborted doomed genesis
of brilliant fleeting idea,
thus one smart
generic garden variety
longfellow forced to
grovel along boulevard
of broken dreams.
Any resemblance between above
hyperbole and living persons
purely coincidental!