Long Fightin Poems

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April Ninth Four Score and Eleven Years Ago

How fast the years did clip and leap away,
till your Earth orbitz count ninety decades
+ uno journeys orbited around mister sun
encompassing metaphorical magnum opus
figuratively paginated bound compendium,

whereby chronology Boyce Brandon Harris
also known as papa san 'pon being drafted
his six foot 2 inch tiptop chiseled physique
(musculoskeletal frame shrunk) dada fought
the good fight one among many raw recruits

stationed south 38th parallel serving admins
Harry Truman, & Dwight David Eisenhower
bolstering strongman Syngman Rhee against
Kim Il-sung during 6/25, 1950 – 7/27, 1953
war (actually stalemate) whereby former and

latter controlled South and North Korean as
separate countries - father (soldier of fortune
(he art not yet in heaven, whatever Unitarian
equivalent would be) hoping to live at least
until Tuesday, November 3, 2020 to vote for

fightin Joe Biden, meanwhile Zayda to his 5
grandkids keeps low profile at Normandy
Farm Estates upscale retirement community
whose delicate health (i.e. congestive heart
failure) could (does) pose hardship visa vis

his immune system susceptible to microbes
(particularly strains) virile which could spell
death of beloved nonagenarian, whose dim
eyes sees approaching exit (stage door left)
out webbed wide world of living survivors.

Mayor presence be regaled as presents
courtesy second rate poetaster
born (only heir - hiss supple) while ye still
tread, albeit ably helped along with cane.

H-A-P-P-Y     B-I-R-T-H-D-A-Y
Form: Elegy


Premium Member A Poetic National Honor

Bridging the port  

Calming wakes, defined as sport  

Not needing any legal court  

Only a scoreboard  

Pointing which door 

An Indianapolis checkered flag  

Or hiking Arizona’s crags  

Going in zags  

Seeing single stags  

Boys Fightin Illini windy gusts  

Wanting a middle city bust  

Girls giving USC, a nice tri  

Enjoying a Final Four high  

Reaching dunking heights  

Friday night  

Huskies have in sight  

Next day another round  

For the Nutmeg town  

After dinner  

There will be a winner  

Due to an early evening rise 

From southern gamecock cries  

Serving gourmet steaks accompanied with eggs  

Worth the beg  

Two or three  

Spectacle we believe  

Are the attempts  

Message sent  

On the hardwood  

By those who are good  

Getting two points  

Across the arena joint  

But do not despair  

What is fair  

If your academic grades are not there  

Since Huskie national championship hopes, are on the air
Form: Rhyme

Night First

no one sleeps tonight
we up and be jammin
we be jammin
we gone dance the night away
hear what I say
we gonna party all night
we be dancing and grinding
tell your freinds bout this jambouisri
we gonna do the
dickie dew woop
shingle dindle dippy dew
and foo chi gruntier
and the stumble dippy too
we be dancing
dancing
all night long
ddon't get jealous
my party's better than yours
we funning
ya'll dumb and
my stuff tastier than yours
ya'll gonna be fightin
while we be grunting
and making love
ya'll crazy
I mean real crazy
ya'll jealous that
our party is better than yours.

aint nobody in love with
nobody here
we having a jamba lamba good time!
Form: Ballad

Ensemble

Ring..Ring.....the phone just rang and rang.
When She answered it, she said she was surprised.
All we heard was yeah, yeah she said it at
least ten times, happy and exited. She ended the
call with a thank you, thank you:
and God bless you.When she turned to us we actually had
no idea what was going on.. She asked us what did we klnow
about real singing? Grister said" ya'll know
I can sang!" Whats going on Baby: tell us what is going on!
Well you all know my freind, the one who is a producer
for the theater shows and Acts? Yeah we heard about him, 
what he want now? The last time he called Dimple and and Fritz got-tah fightin.
Wel anyway they need some acts and he thought of us.
Said he got a band and need us to develop a new style 
based on our knowledge of some words. Said he got some smartazzes and need to trick them into learning some terms and phrases so they can impress people
instead of turning them off. We got the Gig with a contract and some real money
but he said we need to learn to talk so we can impress people
and not be cool and cool like tryna make friends when we
need to be allusive and and superstars celebrates.
Get the Faxes Choden, Get the Faxes. Okay Baby, here they go.
What does it say, Reading the paper and smiling hard enough to be heard.
These are the words you need to introduce your selves as. 
The contracts are being faxed in one hour. Sign them A>S>A>P.
 and fax them back. I will fax a copy of the check, and
send the via Euro 
-Global Cash. Talk to you later.
Your Sincerely Chincey!

Use Vicks vapor rub at all times
when reading to sing and perform.
 Here are the words and Voice types
assigned to each of you.singing voice types
 are classified into major categories from high to low:
 soprano, mezzo-soprano, and contralto for women, 
and tenor, baritone, and bass for men. 
A singer's voice type is defined by vocal range,
 tessitura (comfortable singing zone), timbre
 (vocal color), vocal weight, and transition points.
Form: Ballad

A War Far From Civil

a young man with tounge lashed and lunch packed/
heading to a regiment, sprung on one flag/
swearin to fight till his own lungs crack/
preparin for life cuz he won't come back/
attached to the loud sound of the drum tap/
the gun blasts, clouds of smoke that leave the sun masked/
amidst brothers in uniform, all stung fast/
by storms and swarms of bees and ideals unmasked/
arrives and unpacks supplies in a region with bee hives knats and flies/
and a squad full of men, juss like him with wrath disguised/
anger and pride all hatched by false facts and lies/
enemies branded traiters, allies a band of saviours/
both fightin mercillisly cuz one man demands invasions/
so he fights bretheren from the same land and nation/
risks his life in a civil war for minimum standerd payments/
can't sleep or eat, his sorroundings are exploding bombs/
corrosion on his brain, the devotion gone/
an ocean of morbid pain, others become insane/
at first there was a surplus of ambition, pride and confidence/
now its lost as once was his common sense/
but durin the war his senses are back with a senseless impact/
in fact he wishes his senses weren't left and intact/
if they didnt work he would still feel strangely blessed/
cuz his senses cause him to smell and see his friends mangled flesh/
fifty years later he still fights with painful strains for breath/
in the place for death facing gravestones with names of leaders deceased/
sharpness of his senses have long left, his sight and hearing is weak/
meters and feet away from the burial ground his fear is increased/
on his knees, finds his friend's tombstone, squints, sees it and weeps/
it reads: "Another youth seized under the hypocritical concept of a war for freedom and peace"...
Form:


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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace