Long Deadly Poems
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In shadows deep where darkness reigns,
A legion gathers, bound by chains
Of fate and duty, born of woe,
To fight the horrors that do grow.
The Captain, stark with shield of steel,
His heart a-bleeding, forced to feel
The weight of battles fought and lost,
And count the devastating cost.
The Iron Man, in armor clad,
A modern Knight, yet driven mad
By demons lurking in his mind,
And secrets he can never hide.
The Hulk, a beast of rage and fury,
His strength a curse, a bloody story
Of rampages and broken bones,
And voices that won't leave him alone.
The Black Widow, with eyes of ice,
Her past a labyrinth of lies,
A deadly dance of death and pain,
And shadows that cannot be slain.
The Thor, a God of thunder born,
His hammer striking, fierce and sworn
To protect the weak and smite the bad,
Yet haunted by the wars he's had.
Together they, a fractured band,
Against the evil in this land,
The horrors that threaten to consume,
The light of hope in this grand gloom.
They fight with strength and courage rare,
Yet darkness lingers in the air,
A constant threat, a looming doom,
In this dark gothic, horror gloom.
For though they stand as heroes true,
The darkness always comes anew,
And shadows lengthen, ever-near,
In this dark gothic, horror sheer.
But still they fight, with might and main,
Against the horrors and the pain,
For in this world of gloom and dread,
The Avengers stand, a symbol, dead
To darkness, alive to light,
A shining beacon, burning bright
In this dark gothic, horror night.
Silence is ever so cold
Strong and bold
Sending a message you better hold
I have been told
Close to your heart
Playing a role part
That cannot compare
When one gives the deadly stare
Powerful as a cussing swear
Where?
The antagonist surely would be scared
Stripping the foe spineless and bare
From the emotional snarly snare
My dear white knight
Respect your editorial opinionated right
Watch the bonfire burn
Ask, what have you learned?
About freedom of speech
And did it teach
Whether the message did reach
The border or the beach
Where many will ponder
Those flying machines throughout the blue yonder
Hoping no one will blunder
While they wonder
Family raising
What are those people saying?
And possibly weighing
That communication builds trust
Certainly, it is a must
Or the enemy will walk in
If no one is talking
Or getting fitter
Only angry and bitter
Cutting the deal
Giving it away, claiming a steal
Land sold
Received trinkets and gold
Price that was rendered
Avoiding being dismembered
Fight back my friend
Simply defend
Speak dialogue honest and true
Is what everyone should do
Liberty will ring
Making everyone dance and sing
Discovering the ace next to the king
Surviving the attack
Getting blackjack
Seizing the chips
Headlining all the news clips
Since freedom of speech is not done
Instead, well thought out chit chat is how the war was won
Natasha Romanova, the fair 'Black Widow',
In The Marvel Comis, is a superhero;
Surreptitious, specific, and snake-like deadly,
A one-woman army, when needed, self-medley...!
Adorned with the boundless power of hypnosis,
She made anyone, to act as per her gnosis;
With super reflexes, she functioned lightning-fast,
Saved Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson from bullet-blast...!
like Captain America, the peak strength she gained,
She turned her physique stronger or faster, unstrained;
Resurrection was her grand strange ability,
Getting killed, she soon rose in calm tranquility...!
Like light bats or cats or rats, she ascended on walls,
Midst her marvelous jumps, she escaped any falls;
Like Count Dracula, she could, often, shapeshift,
The mighty Mjolnir hammer she could freely lift...!
Her weakness of guilt or ego could not outweigh,
When her might, like gales or storms, made headway;
She sacrificed her life to save others, stories say,
In the Midwest, in a still grave, she calmly lay...!!!
23 January 2023
Marvel Superhero or Supervillain Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
Some say I talk so ignorant. naw, me
im just too real for these hypocrites
the truth will set you free and me,
im filled wit dat addictiveness
like 2nd hand smoke from cigarettes
point fingers if you want cuz 4real you
ain't gotta feel me and nevamind da law
im innocent till proven guilty
had a couple setbacks fresh off probation
not guilty is he, live by da street code never
talk to the D's. It's better to live on ya feet
then die on ya knees, niggaz bleed just like us
yeah I taught dat to my seed.
So this here is Harsh Reality, dat any livin thing
can become a homicidal casualty
so question what do we fear 1st, this recession
or being gun or knifed down by a deadly weapon
the thing about the truth is you ain't gotta like it
but you will respect it and me I am da truth
I speak it, embrace it how bout you? Don't like
my slang, hard to swallow what I done, where I
came from? But this is it, this is what freedom
taste like, what it feels like. So nevamind da hype
of how im dis & dat, dat & dis cuz imma still spitt
gutta like hallway piss
She slithered from the jungle in a Vera Wang sarong
Like some wicked juju temptress with no sense of right or wrong.
I remember how it thrilled me,
Oh yeah, when she shimmied in the buff;
And that first time she let loose, I thought I’d never get enough.
She hid a wealth of smuggled goods among her cargo.
I was cornered and defenseless; she was turning on the tease.
Then she wrapped her legs around me in an anaconda squeeze.
She had something sweet to teach me,
Oh yeah, more than modesty allowed.
So I poured a gin and tonic and I let myself get plowed.
She dealt in contraband delights with no embargo.
She was primitive and deadly. I was curious and young,
Groping hesitant, yet eager, heart to heart and tongue to tongue.
I plunged headlong with abandon,
Oh yeah, off those reckless, dizzy heights,
Spinning through a swirl of colors, shooting toward a burst of lights.
I came down withered, drained, and blank like no tomorrow.
You can run a little faster, beat the bullet from the gun.
You can run a little farther, almost halfway to the sun.
But when you run from Tondelayo,
Oh yeah, Christ, her cargo weighs a ton.
just the same ring
with a round of row zees
awash manicured lawns
with generic grass seed
that doth spring
to life with synthesized,
(yet deadly) chemicals meant
to guarantee wrest
ting control might and subdue
so nature forced
to become nsync from in vest
ment plot purchase
as proving grounds to test
a money bagged well paid
laborer at leisure time
sprawled asleep in comfy hammock
a much needed self deserved rest
whereat successful proof
evinces "American dream"
no matter quest
necessitates becoming linkedin
with fast paced lifestyle
attendant ulcer inducing "pest"
keeping up appearances,
where younglings nest
scolding woe begotten kith
if flawless grounds get messed
by clod hopping kids and/or smart pets
upsetting calculus figuring formula
determining trigonometric
landscaping tangential
to maintaining perfectly
squared off turf especially lest
the neighbors cease becoming hospitable
and stop offering gold plated invitations
to such honorable humble guest.
These Limericks were written after playing a card game called Poo Pocalypse... don't ask or I'll blame it on Jan...lol
History recorded leaders in wars
Great men and women: their whys and wherefores
Napolean Bona-fart
A short French dude, a sweet tart
Whose stinky stench exuded from his pores
A female consort weighed too many stones
From scarfing down ice cream in waffle cones
Mary, the Queen of Plops
Upon her butt she flops
In the castle, her toilets were her thrones
There was a barbarian, years ago
In battles much blood was sure to flow
Nasty crap from the buns
of Atilla the Runs
More deadly than arrows from a crossbow
King from the Plantagenet dynasty
was not given time for his toiletry
That was terribly absurd
for England's Richard the Turd
It was an invasion of privacy
Troubled was the one who made great magic
There was one known to have gas... how tragic
The Great Harry Poodini
Had powers of a genie
But subduing farts, he didn't know Jack!
Peeking in windows is an evil deed
One pervert, whose weakness he did concede
He's known as 'Pooping Tom'
With coolness and aplomb
Watching people crap is his craving need
Disarmed
Bullets fall silent
against words
well chosen
Their caliber
muted
— the target on fire
(Villanova University: March, 2024)
Stuck In Gear
Motion
not an absolute
The world
is never still
Inertia
tries to write the law
Where stop and start
are nil
History
at the speed of light
Consensus
in the math
But standing
here
While stuck in gear
— the notion leaves me flat
(Villanova University: March, 2024)
Before The After
Don’t bog down
in research
Spontaneity
the thing
Truth
is most elusive
And joy
a passing Spring
In flashes
of an instant
What’s timeless
will appear
Thinking often
kills the goose
That lays
— both far and near
(Villanova University: March, 2024)
Deafening Silence
Things most often named
before understood
Then never renamed
for the bad or the good
‘Particles of light’
we now know as waves
But ad infinitum
their reference stays
A ‘Tablet of Paper’
consisting of sheets
Two ‘Bolts’ of lightning
fused Franklin’s belief
A ‘Softball’s’ still deadly
meant to careen
And ‘Deafening Silence’
— spurs wonder indeed
(Villanova University: March, 2024)
He is like a deadly disease bringing despair.
He won't take the hint, he isn't wanted anywhere.
He is like a dark cloud, polluting the air.
Yet he insists on showing up unannounced everywhere.
His sense of self importance is baffling considering he has accomplished so little in life.
Most people find him insufferable, even his own sweet wife.
He boasts of grandiose dreams of wealth and fame.
He is clueless to the fact that no one gives 2 shizits about his crappy game.
He will keep talking and talking, even when no one will listen.
Unaware he is a waste of space and a waste of perfectly good oxygen.
He is condescending to others but being called out gets him frustrated.
He wears a stupid hat too small for his big ugly head
and always looks angry and constipated.
He is easily upset when his ideas are ignored or dismissed.
He hates being in group settings where his butt is not being kissed.
When people aren't admiring him, he will throw a pity party and wallow.
It's a shame that 51 years ago, his mama didn't swallow.
As I reflect on nature's ways,
a struggle goes on for winners to display.
And for those who are beat,
life is lost in utter defeat.
A predator and it's prey,
as the aggressor will display.
Both living in harmony and trust,
only killing when they must.
Predators can be victims in the game,
while higher orders make their claim.
Two creatures both deadly still,
neither will move, both ready for the kill.
Looking each other in the eye,
both in wait, as they lie.
Getting ready for the strike,
playing a waiting game, but both alike.
Tension hangs heavily in the air,
Both deeply frozen within the stare.
both locked in a deadly game,
One victor, one loser will make it's deadly claim.