Long Circumnavigate Poems
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And ignoble prize trumpeting hubris awarded to...
Bourgeoisie donning ersatz
overstuffed ego freezer bewigged pate
"FAKE" grotesque humanitarian
bribed corrupt judges will vindicate
jimmied cracked corn
land of "milk and honey"
red hot button he spoils to activate
countdown to Armageddon
leaving nation prostrate,
all the more reason to axe electoral college,
now holds electorate
hostage to bully tactics grate
for dead souls – zombie thriller, viz
Putin on the ritz,
whereby Pavlov's dog will salivate
on cue and pony show will titillate,
and worse case scenario, a far more terrible fate
than death by a thousand cuts
equals his refusal not to abdicate
presidency, should voters
get smart to administrate
White House with progressive commander
in chief he/she will adjudicate
decency, honesty, integrity... and acclimate
government toward amity, comity, equality...
oh,... and most importantly advocate
salutary measures affecting biosphere,
where industrialization didst devastate
contaminate by bajillion beings birthrate,
every square inch of Earth
*****sapiens succeeded to abominate...,
prima facie global warming doth correlate,
hence primary requisite mandate
to reorient modus operandi no time to wait,
where carbon footprint negligible
still preserving technological paradigm
fixing low cussed electricity to generate
courtesy renewable resources
else man/womankind will become footnote
atrophied trappings agglomerate
twenty first century civilization
damned, inundated, ossified bridgegate
checkmated, choked, chucked... wag gone wheels
das spare - tread fully tires fuming primate
jammed fruits of loins going bananas
infuriating, exhausting accelerating
no exit (sorry Sartre) to circumnavigate
hardy lee any recourse to extricate
oneself from madding crowd
self resignation minimally doth alleviate,
whereby impatient broods frustrate
inaccessible jackknifed mobility,
thence spark ignites spontaneous eruption
impossible mission to plug
crowdsource mob frenzy translate
pent up fury once loosed doth degenerate
into atavistic pandemonium cutthroat rage
snarling human logjam foaming at mouth
poised to strike ready to decapitate
any remaining shred of salvation barren feeble
slow vac hoovering, milking, and sucking
every last vestige of bondage peoples extirpate.
Built in a Belfast shipyard
for Shaw Savill ‘n Albion Line.
On her flagstaff wind ‘n lee
flew the Southern Cross ensign,
down a slipway to the sea
launched afar by Her Majesty
Behold her pale eau de nil
green ‘n painted hull of grey,
at twenty knots her rate
twenty thousand tons aweigh.
On the seas a ship of fate
the world to circumnavigate
Yon the Empire far ‘n wide
from Southampton to Trinidad.
Where from ship to shore
off I waved goodbye as a lad,
till in the distance I saw
my home to be nevermore
Smoke from her aft funnel
into a big Caribbean sky blew,
then set a course westerly
by merchant captain ‘n crew.
And to each port ‘n quay
across the ocean carried me
I remember gazing in awe
up ‘n down her length ‘n beam,
at the mighty waves below
and how sea ‘n ship did gleam.
In canal gates under tow
winding our way lazy ‘n slow
Crossing the equator I saw
Davy Jones ‘n King Neptune
rising up out of the deep
‘neath a high December moon.
Till in safe passage ‘n keep
back to the depths they leap
Out on Oceania as a boy
in the lido deck pool I did dive.
The Southern Cross ‘n me
would our long voyage arrive,
on in all her hope ‘n glory
the grand old lady of the sea
On final Far East voyage
would alas be her swan song,
beached on a tidal seaway
sold ‘n scrapped in Chittagong.
A line flagship in her day
stripped bare where she lay
Written: May 2017
It was on board this ship nearly 50 years ago that me and my family left Trinidad bound for New Zealand - I was nearly 8 years old. We arrived on Christmas Day 1968 in Wellington (pictured) and a couple days later disembarked in Auckland. Built in the same shipyard as the Titanic in 1954, the SS Southern Cross had a far more fortuitous career transporting immigrants and pleasure seekers across the British Empire until her sad and final resting place in Chittagong, Bangladesh (pictured) where she ended her 50 years of service as the Ocean Breeze in a ship-breaking graveyard in 2004. She was the first passenger liner to be launched by a reigning monarch. Not a big ship by today's standards but as a boy to me she was huge - I thought she was magnificent. Still do.
Escapism – For the readers.
(A lone voice whispers)
Hey you,
Reading this
From way beyond the reach
Of the Great Abyss
I, Thomas, have a question or two
Would you blindly follow me if I lit a red candle
In this final odyssey home
To be rescued
And finally bare your soul
Together with mine
And all you can handle
Before the Sacred Salt Pillar of Ado
Of Sodom and Gomorrah
Near the Dead Sea and atone
Would you follow me and that maybe life-changing suggestion
Willingly into this swirling dark
And grasp my coattails within this invocation and rhyme
As we trespass tentatively through all of this life's scary parks
Just you and me
To somewhere only the courageous can ever conceive
As we strip off all the world's detritus
That tries to smother us with all their rock slides
And swim against all societies fast-flowing dividing tides
Will you dare tango and tiptoe past the ever watchful Tall Man and all his worldly Minions
As we circumnavigate the spiritual globe
To truly see the new world grid and reclaim our own freedom
To sit beside our newly created Holy River
To write poetry and sing
To joyously watch through that river's undulating scrying mirror
As the real world slowly disappears
To then walk through a portal which I know will appear
Through all the luscious green grass to finally reach the portcullis gates to the
Eternal City
Of Tartaria
To hear the greatest stories ever told to human ears
In any era
To finally embrace a new realm free from all restrictions
Laws or fears
For although we are but lost souls going eventually to try to conquer She'ol
Would you still just blindly follow me
For you also
Seek Escapism
For you too are a true reader
Past the awakening powers of an immoral old fallen god
A new age world leader
And all its political forces
To walk unashamed together
Hand in hand
To somewhere to renew
Hidden from view
Beyond this world,
Many new pale white horses
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
The pointed ears of a snail can be quite ornate really. Especially if adorned with precious stones as earrings. Buffaloes bulbous brows bear banging bunions. Marvellous. Just marvellous it is to watch the glass moving etiquette of a toque faced turtle necked triangular train man. And train men are neither neutral nor at an elevation of sixty feet for sixty feet are reserved items for the rare caterpillars whose boots are ordered from on line specialists particularly at festival moments of a calendar month. Months are neither mints nor metrosexual mines. If the stem of a flower is acidified then surely the dew from a mountainside would circumnavigate a pea. Coo coo a blossom bird is calling very very loudly like coo on a roof could be a complete song to sing. Coo coo coo then. Fantastic auric and radiating repetition of a coo. But not akin to a sauce. For sauces ate stripey bases of pans and swirled in an interesting light show of iridescent woven brown creases. Wow. Wow. And great. Eat then a canopy of tissues dangling from a stripped out washing line on a hill. Cheeses choosing coffee carefully, crispy crackers crumbling constantly. And the policy of a pelican us to peck prawn. How petrifying to be a small pink one. Oh dear. Playing then peck. Gone. Determined deletion determines deathly drive. And a stronghold of a striped shadow is coming over there and waving so wave at it. Go in wave. Out layer outfits organise official over oversized overspill objectives. And a fat cat laughs in the frying pan. Eating pizza in a bin on a petrol station forecourt is akin to a maggot laughing at a butterbean. And using a car ss a heater for multipurpose functions in a house is about as useful but as common as using a lawnmower to hoover the carpets. Sew that then. Hahaha the dancing of the bricks haha and no ho ho elephant wading birds xxxxx inconceivable z z z z z aaaacchooooo z.
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Part 2 of 2
..............to naughties, 90s, 80s, rap and dance, circumnavigate the globe, my circumstance,
improving, make my girl smile like that girl in the Louvre, n,
spread her wings like that northern angel, our thoughts connected by cable,
as we reach for the heavens, cutting 4s, 8s, 7s,
with our burning spliffs, slowly bubbling beers, music mixing with my voice between her ears,
her perfect symphony, conveying how much I love her simply,
verbally holding hands, kissing, more, shedding inhibitions, flung on the floor,
exposing parts that aren't sunburnt sore, Victoria's Secrets, Agent Provocateur,
my old tartan boxers following, she starts to pole dance, nowhere to stick a dollar in,
but appreciation's shown, increased tongue speed as I scribble this poem,
where the sand meets sea, the ocean etch-a -sketching me,
all past mistakes forgotten in the waves, her pert bottom convexes, concaves,
in time with nature's surges, as hands cup her breasts, feel a resurgence,
close to divine, always have three points of contact when you climb,
don't think I can reach much higher than this, then a slow, soft, lingering kiss,
warms me whilst chilling, beautiful heat followed by a breeze, a swarm in my mind, bumble bees,
only my queen in focus, buzzing together in a summer shower of affection, a lotus flower erupting, our combined reflection,
two bodies as one, me and my beach, me and my girl, almost in reach, can feel that hair curl,
as my hands slowly glide to a Mike Jackson oldie, locks and locks flow by me, goldie,
in colour, forming a halo in the sunshine, a feeling of liberation, knowing she's mine,
and she's out there somewhere...
All of a sudden (upon
immediately arising refreshed,
whar these lovely
bones did not ache
getting shut eye lasting
amply time for
fatigue to brake,
long enough for tear ducts
to generate sandy granule
size piece smaller
than a Jimmie
sprinkled atop piece of cake
an inexplicable fanciful
notion gripped me
to circumnavigate the globe
(then during or after
write a poem or journaled)
possibly like Sir Francis Drake
who lived (circa?1540 –
28 January 1596)
alight to adventure found
yours truly though
no longer tired
i.e. once adequately
rested and awake,
(despite sleeping respite
did reckon asthma
second daily nap
no...no...no...,this not "FAKE)"
ah ran to the community room,
cuz sigh did hanker for coffee,
sans one of the (perky,
finely grounded, Earthy)
residents, who faintly resembled
a (Lake Woebegone)
Minnesotan from Land o Lake
did brew, filter, and invoke love
said coffee she did make,
tubby extra sure boundless energy
would keep me alert for:
long day's journey into night
and while walking briskly
(this took about a bajillion
orbitz round the sun,
cuz ah...unfairly small feet
for this opaque
grown man hoop ping to partake
of sipping a hot cup of Joe,
(despite the outside temperature
feeling like a bajillion degrees -
courtesy of global warming)
mouth (analogous to
the dog of Pavlov)
started to salivate
for desperate caffeinated
thirst to slake
after a couple swallows...
ah (no idea why butta)
Zarathustra channeled
thru me didst spake.
It is a nice sunny day
in the eastern Riverina
It is a perfect day to go for a ride
on my klr 650
might go for a ride to
circumnavigate Hume weir
yep
sounds like a plan
so I am thinking about
dropping in a Bunnings
to get some nails
to finish lining that shed
hm, then I could go to bcf
to get some gas cartridges
for the camp stove
yeah, no worries
that will all fit in my backpack
so, done all that
riding along the winding road
and see that the town of Tallangatta
has the big garage sale
I pull up at a few sites and
stumble upon this quaint
old wind up alarm clock
I wind it up a little, it works
ticking away nicely
it goes in the backpack
It is a beautiful day
and I enjoy my ride on the klr 650
as I get back to Holbrook
I get a snack at the bakery
and am about to head home
but the highway patrol decides to
do a random breath test on me
which returns zero
Strangely enough, between the noise
of the traffic and a few local swearing about
the lack of rain
the police officer hears a ticking noise
in my backpack
he seems concerned about that
and immediately gets his partner
to pin me down
and calls for backup
They have this scanner
which detects bomb making material
in my pack, and a ticking sound
so I am in trouble now
the backup units turn up
the area gets locked down
I am thrown into an armored vehicle
handcuffed etc.
The bomb squad turn up
they don't like the gas cylinders mix
with the nails and the ticking noise
Funny enough, they don't believe my story
why I bought those items......
It was a good day to go
for a ride on my klr 650.
FROM SUNSET TO SUNRISE
Her clinging mermaid-figure, auburn hair - french braid-chaste.
Pearl’s arms circumnavigate his nautical-neck. Strong arms gird her waist.
His hands, like the current, draw her in. She inhales with fingers laced.
Like the sublime shoreline, their outlines traced.
Water and sand swirl around their feet, hearkening to the flautist-tide.
Pearl’s arms circumnavigate his nautical-neck. Strong arms gird her waist.
The sky, stars, and moon vanish - in a lover’s cove, they hide.
Recognized with a full-moon revelation - no disguise,
She is likely to drown in the whirlpool of his eyes.
With the whispers of his high-tide love, she does rise,
Answering in kind - breathing in and out her replies,
As their lifetime stretches from sunset to sunrise.
The aquamarine of Pearl’s eyes match her swimming gown.
She is likely to drown in the whirlpool of his eyes,
Snatched by the undercurrent, of her lover’s seaweed crown.
The shrieking seagull o’erhead, her memory recalls.
The darkened lighthouse, stronghold sinking, falls.
Feet weeping on serrated shells, his footprints lost in sandy halls.
His sea-drenched bodysuit, her frightened squalls.
Inlet eyes, stained red, revere venomous jellyfish - tentacled balls.
A shallow survivor - her lover’s footprints she could not save.
The darkened lighthouse, stronghold sinking, falls.
She dives into the cold abyss of a mourner’s grave.
Pearl will find her eternal love, beyond the sun’s rays.
11/2/2017
Laura Loo’s Rhyme Time II Contest
Rather lost, they stare over the divide,
how best to circumnavigate this obstacle?
They can see a path gently sloping down
but it is far off to the north two days ride.
West is back from whence they had come,
east is an impassable cliff of sheer rocks.
They can not see far to the south but maybe,
they talk it over and head into the unknown.
Tumble weed rolling by pushed by the wind
as playfully it blows them into their path.
Miniscule trees dot the flat plateau
and small shrubs popping up here and there.
In a hurry they head on swiftly southwards
and soon start to descend to the valley below.
Billy is pale with anxiety as they push on
his wife Betty is due to give birth.
Sammy casts worried looks at his friend knowing
there is little he can say that will help.
At last they reach the valley and gallop on
Just another five miles will they make it in time?
Their horses now struggling, sweat pouring off them.
Billy's homestead comes into view cattle scattering
as they gallop through the herd and into the yard.
Sammy hangs back as Billy dashes in to Betty.
In full labour she screams "Where have you been?"
"The preacher is here to wed us. Did you get the ring?"
"I have it here" said Billy and without delay they were married.
And within minutes the twins arrived a boy and girl both bawling.
"Geezers you cut that close Billy" said Sammy
as they slumped on the front porch drinking beer.
"We made it in the nick of time" replied Billy
flushed with the joy and fulfilment of life.
written 17/09/2014
contest: Cowboys in the Badlands
sponsor Isaiah
Let us drift, you and me,
Beyond -- Straight into eternity --
To where eyes need not see,
And like pearls can gleam
Brightly as the morning sea
Washing along the shore line,
Revealing treasure long-hidden;
Never far, perhaps a tad forgotten
Is it any less treasurable?
Perhaps more.. Even beyond measurable:
Now that sand has been uncovered
And this beauty recovered--
But let us not digress..
Lest we act like a congress
And bumble like baboons
No.
Let not depreciation occur
Let treasure's interest concur
And incur cherishment --
Even if buried under shore--
Never losing any value
Not to this man of sinew...
For I miss my treasure
I miss the pearl eyes
And their delicate sighs...
My love and my pleasure.
Indeed, I miss what salt
Has tried to cover
And make covert
Putting time to fault..
Yes.. as I circumnavigate
This poem and its sporadic tone
Like ancient lines in old tomes
Of words that may rhyme with circumnavigate
That may lend meaning
To the overall message
The theme preceding...
Have I told you I love you today?
Love you like Earth loves May
The month of rebirth and life,
Of splendid weather and pipers' fife ,
That creates a smile radiant
Of a perfect hue; a gradient
Far beyond the most beautiful colour,
Far beyond any god's favour...
Have I told you I love you lately?
Perhaps some time you may allow me
(In the form of some better rhymes)
To express the most aeonic words
Which like the artist’s palette
Encapsulate exactly how
I feel about you, alone,
My darling, Dana.