Long Gabble Poems
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Again 'tis that time of year when I must evade that cruel axe!
With the thought of my neck on the choppin' block I jes' cain't relax!
How about a goose or duck to complement yer pies, beans and peas,
Or yer grandma's meatloaf to go with them sweet pertaters if you please!
I certainly ain't got nothin' to celebrate and be thankful fer,
And with that my cousins, brothers and uncles fully concur!
I pray you'll find other victuals in which to stab yer knife and fork.
May I respectully suggest that you eat more beef, feesh and pork!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
A fly and ant, upon a sunny bank,
Discuss'd the question of their rank.
'O Jupiter!' the former said,
'Can love of self so turn the head,
That one so mean and crawling,
And of so low a calling,
To boast equality shall dare
With me, the daughter of the air?
In palaces I am a guest,
And even at thy glorious feast.
Whene'er the people that adore thee
May immolate for thee a bullock,
I'm sure to taste the meat before thee.
Meanwhile this starveling, in her hillock,
Is living on some bit of straw
Which she has labour'd home to draw.
But tell me now, my little thing,
Do you camp ever on a king,
An emperor, or lady?
I do, and have full many a play-day
On fairest bosom of the fair,
And sport myself upon her hair.
Come now, my hearty, rack your brain
To make a case about your grain.'
'Well, have you done?' replied the ant.
'You enter palaces, I grant,
And for it get right soundly cursed.
Of sacrifices, rich and fat,
Your taste, quite likely, is the first;--
Are they the better off for that?
You enter with the holy train;
So enters many a wretch profane.
On heads of kings and asses you may squat;
Deny your vaunting I will not;
But well such impudence, I know,
Provokes a sometimes fatal blow.
The name in which your vanity delights
Is own'd as well by parasites,
And spies that die by ropes--as you soon will
By famine or by ague-chill,
When Phoebus goes to cheer
The other hemisphere,--
The very time to me most dear.
Not forced abroad to go
Through wind, and rain, and snow,
My summer's work I then enjoy,
And happily my mind employ,
From care by care exempted.
By which this truth I leave to you,
That by two sorts of glory we are tempted,
The false one and the true.
Work waits, time flies; adieu:--
This gabble does not fill
My granary or till.'
Jean de La Fontaine. Translated From French By Elizur Wright 1882.
Form:
Autumn, like an Indian classical dancer, dressed up
Arrives with soft rhymes and quickening steps
She comes aglow, aglow with a rare beauty
Dancing to the anklet’s tinkling song
Her floating robe falls in deep folds around her feet
As she mesmerizes all with her moves full of grace
Viewing the flaming colors in assorted display
We are apt to wonder if Nature carefully saved up
All that is best for the closing grand finale
Autumn tints look enchanting all through the land
With pervading green, offset by crimson, citrus yellow
Flaming red, lustrous gold and a faded russet
The air stays crisp and sweet in the ripening fields
While stray clouds ramble in a flawless turquoise sky
When autumn is thus all agog like a frenzied dervish
It gives us morbid pictures of death and decay
The trees wrestle to free themselves of their worn cloaks
Causing a cascade of withering autumn leaves
Now they fall scattered in endless stream and lie in piles
Like charred carcasses after a fierce forest fire
The rustle of dry leaves blown by the wind
Falls in our ears with the gabble of migrating birds
Pale sunshine sifts through leafless trees of maple and oak
All those leaves once stayed regal in stations high
Now tossed out like worthless chaff
They come nose- diving and fall several meters below
Spreading a hazel curtain over the moist earthen crust
When trampled mercilessly by careless feet
They silently mourn their thankless fate
Graying that comes at the end of each autumnal fall
Reminds us of the pall of gloom that awaits
It is disturbing like the parting song of birds
As they fly southward before the onset of winter
June.15.2022
Poetry Marathon Mile.2.Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Mark Tony
Originally posted in Sep.2021
There was a gibble gabble woman
In our neighborhood when I was a child.
She sung gossip the way
Porters sling suitcases, trying to break people
Her tongue was fast, and mean, and she had no shame
We learned quickly she was fun to rile, and quick to spread joy
When we got older we noticed she was near-sighted too.
See? We would say, pointing, “There they are now.”
We knew full well her eyes could not make out the people.
But she took us at our lying words, and spread her powerful poisons
We laughed that she could not see the end of her own finger,
Yet she believed us; we relished giving her misinformation.
It was our mission to send her on gossip-filled excursions
During the summers of our 6th and 7th grade years.
I am sad to say we could not twist her up or wind her the next year.
She had died a pauper’s death. We were the only two at her funeral.
FLIGHTS OF FANCY PHRASIS 4
Babble,gabble simper,whimper
gurgle coo;holler,howl scream,sigh
then cry.Squeak,shriekscreech,squeal
bang,clang;gnash,splash peal and crash.
Shout,spout roar ,rage toot,hoot whistle;
whoop,sing cheer and yell.
Ding,ting,tone zing and ring
hiss,moan and groan;whisper then kiss.
Touchy feely,relating ,really instinctive
insight,perceptive prescient perpetually
pragmatic &personally persuaded.
Passionate,impassioned,sensitive &
sentimental ardent & excited,fervently
astir and free to be.
From Flights of Fancy 2003
Listen to me recite this part phrasis on youtube under my pen name ichthys chiro
Two Words – Redux Two
Push
Pull
Donut
Hole
Toilet
Bowl
Laundry
Fold
Sing
Song
Ping
Pong
Mao
Zedong
Fly
Eater
Cloud
Nine
Moon
Shine
Vinegar
Brine
Wild
One
No
Pun
Arm
Leg
Black
Plague
Circle
Square
Head
Hair
Sonic
Whistle
Broom
Thistle
Pretty
Face
Human
Race
Alien
Space
Mountain
Road
Horned
Toad
Meteor
Rock
Mister
Spock
Start
Dart
Go
Flow
Pol
Pot
Hope
Not
Green
Brown
Smile
Frown
City
Town
River
Creak
Circus
Freak
Stuffy
Nose
Big
Toes
Bogart
Bacall
Free
Fall
Standing
Tall
Music
Note
Castle
Moat
Witch
Hag
Laundry
Bag
Robber
Rubber
Space
Discover
Race
Car
Bucket
Tar
Fruit
Jar
Phrenology
Psychology
Logo
Pogo
Wine
Beer
Whine
Jeer
Weather
Clear
Beach
Chair
People
Stare
Garden
Hose
Bloody
Rose
Genius
Knows
Alaskan
Snow
Car
Far
Road
Tar
Proud
Hound
Ground
Round
Upside
Downside
Aladdin
Jafar
Genie
Wish
Table
Fish
Wash
Dish
Slobber
Swish
Babble
Gabble
Clark
Gable
Atlantic
Cable
Stool
Pool
Fad
Lad
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
September 3, 2018 (Short-Form Free Verse)
Again 'tis that time of year when I must evade that forebodin' axe!
With the thought of my neck on the choppin' block, I jes' cain't relax!
How about a goose er duck to complement yer pies, beans and peas,
Er yer grandma's meatloaf to go with them sweet pertaters if you please!
I certainly ain't got nothin' to celebrate and be thankful fer,
And with that my cousins, brothers and sisters wholly concur!
I pray you'll find other victuals in which to stab yer knife and fork.
May I respectfully suggest that you eat more beef, feesh and pork!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 2 in Russell Sivey's "Challenge - Max 8 Lines" Contest - October 2011
Skies bring happy tidings; Hear peals of thunder "clap"!
Lightning brings great illumination with no gap;
Why should barren clouds move with no torrential pour?
It's, thus, when my soul thinks, wings, begins the rare "roar"...!
Each creature proclaims beauteous divine nature,
Each little leaf "jingles" his love-legislature;
Slowly falls in landscapes "drizzly" drops; soothing-filled
"Pitter-patter" of rain, then, benign smoothing-thrilled...!
Am I hearing the breeze "gargling" to hear her throat?
Have pandemonium of parrot lost their coats?
"Crash" and "creak" and "croak" are heard from nook and corner,
Bull-frog, rat-snake or fish – which is fit for honor?
Angry winds "slam" the doors; As you open, drop "splash"!
"Boom" "beam" and "bop" from nowhere echoes like air-crash;
"Mumble" of butterflies-primroses speak volume,
"Babble" and "rattle" and "gabble" and "chatter" "boom"...!
"Click clickery clack" of the sound of train unseen,
"Cling clung crackle" of landscapes I have never been;
Am I dreaming in ninth cloud as I am happy?
Surroundings seem so splendid; scenes solemn, sappy...!
These games of nature we need to be acquainted,
Beauteous is the sky! So prettily painted!
Talk on God needs Philosophy, theology,
True love-living lies in truest anthropology...!
07 July 2022
Onomatopoeia Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Emile Pinet