Long Mogul Poems
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EVERYBODY NEEDS SOMEBODY:
It's totally been a tough month,
To put myself up to try.
Smiled all day with open mouth,
But later turning into cry.
Holding on to fight,
Through this big plight.
It's truly been so tight,
And I nearly lost the might.
All I wish for was some love in the dark night.
And who knew it would bring in a starke light?
Indeed,everybody needs somebody,
That's an unfailing avowed buddy,
Who's an angel in a human body.
If you don't have one,
Then sorry you are not having fun,
Since that somebody will help you stand.
And make life sweet as strawberry wine.
I have a beautiful somebody in my life.
Yes,that's my wife,
An aristocratic mogul that I have.
Her love is an unfadable healing,
Her care is an unlimited soothing.
A proud mother of my great children.
Frankly,she holds the key to my haven,
An empress of my Eden,
In her heart am I hidden.
Glory be to God for this gift.
She was chosen based on freaky sift.
Perhaps,I pray you get somebody too,
So life would be worth for you two.
I mean you...yes you...
My everyday reader,
who's also a sound listener.
I didn’t see Alhaji Sule, the big contractor
Though he is a sponsor with a huge stake in government.
I didn’t see Chief Ade the financial banker
Though he is well-versed on political palavers.
I didn’t see Mazi Eze the business mogul
He’s engrossed in his profits of sales and remains apolitical.
I didn’t see Sir Osahon the civil servant
I wonder, but guess he knows he’ll always have his pay.
I’ve hardly seen his Excellency, not any of his children
But I can see all his servants and some of his relatives.
I see market women, okada riders, menial labourers
Poor farmers, job seekers and beggars, superintend by
Ad-hoc staffs, police, army, party agents, observers
Thugs, cultists, pickpockets and party chiefs, all…
All under the biting sun from sunrise to sunset.
From the tussling crowd I hear and see unending
Wails of distress, curses, cracking of limbs and crimson
Muffled by fugacious shouts of political victories
When from behind the curtain five dollars less swaps for a vote.
Stale politicians and their eating party chiefs preside over
The poverty, ignorance and despair of the masses who shall
Again be left in the cyclic vortexes of socio-economic woes.
In the coming years, they’ll, in public, keep licking their wounds
While the politicians, in private, will have and eat their cakes!
Ah at last camaraderie restored within the Oval Office!
Whew... now with president er... Chief
tenderloin hoof and mouth
knick knack paddywhack shah row'n nah
diseased Trumpen proletariat -
ever so..., (think huck Cain Abel) -
phloem with his tree men diss
anti semitic, biased,
cutthroat dagger type bull leaf
eager, ready and willing
to give Democrats endless good grief,
(a substantial Casanova chock full
of McDonald's fast food beef),
that wily rotten thief
(machiavellian hedonistic commander
with playboy special penchant
to lend wind blow dried hair courtesy queef),
his princely (Jared jarhead) reign no end,
(I reckon at least bajillion years) in sight,
yours truly breathes deep sigh of relief
the meritocratically jaded, general electorate,
who try bringing good things to life - reef
fur to moost recent impeachment acquittal
asthma tongue in cheek persiflage leitmotif.
All Joe king ass hide, I really dread
locked worst case forty sixth oaf with
absolute zero governmental effective cred,
which scariest horror story scenario...
unfathomable, incomprehensible, amenable
to coon sitter seriously joining grateful dead
volunteering bon voyage euthanasia led
by tried and true straight
and narrow grim reaper
me more than willing
to enlist underground
grassroots movement instead
populated courtesy dark shadows
lovely numbskulls and crossbones
think Zombies patrolling
devoid of talking head,
nonetheless not frightening compared
to heir apparent of Fred,
whose real estate Mogul prodigal son
on warpath to shred
life, liberty and pursuit of happiness
no matter *****sapiens
turning planet Earth,
wind and fire more'n politically blood red!
Within the depths of my mind I wanna hide
Towards the far corners of my heart I'll run inside
To escape this evil world and it's malicious divide
And to escape the people with far too much ego, greed, lust, and pride
There you'll stay insignificantly magnified
For this world you're disqualified
Discontinuing life on what used to be Terra land
Homosapiens will never understsnd
The evil entities have higher demands
The powers that be don't want us to expand
Why? Because they're getting filthy rich using our invisible Uncle Sam
Martial Law responds to disobedience with an RFID chip implanted in your hand
Nanotechnology and Nano robots infect us all within
But take our weapons from us with no way for us to defend
Hating and forbidding us to evolve and/or transcend
Starting over with a whole new chapter to begin
To walk away from our pasts and make amends
Living in a synthetic present, and a future that's pretend
So I'm dating a mogul I think you'll recognize
For lies and lies and lies of his history that's been transcribed
Some treat him like the villain - and some treat him like a prize
But I'll tell you from experience - he's my morning star - my sunrise
Sometimes he's called King Lucifer, and sometimes he is called the Lord of Lies
Second in command is his best friend - King Beezlebub - and he's the Lord of Flies
MAGA
Inherited lies by children of fools.
Traffiking hate and Aryan rule.
Indifferent to hopes of self-sustain.
Resentment and fear of broken chains.
In blood Ingrained with other's pain.
A lingered stench. A nation's stain.
So on they rant of good ol' days,
of us and them, "Look not our way,"
"We see you not," "Not of our kind."
They've hate embraced, not open mind.
Hypocricy beyond compare.
They will not see. They do not dare.
Thoughts and prayers, a spurious show.
If not their way, then off you go.
No second look to other's plights.
They have their book. They have no sight.
Warped, corrupted, and abused to prey.
It says what they need it to say today.
Promises empty and pockets full.
A bear for you, for them a bull.
"Just hear what I say, but not what I do."
A singular platform, "I'm rubber, you're glue."
Incessant lies by propagandised press.
Dancing for donors. To hell with the rest.
A decadent loser with disavowed fate.
His self-obsessed lies sow palpable hate.
This miscreant mogul, ineptitude clear,
infected a flock with anger and fear.
Privileged victims w self-righteous distain.
To them, their fate. His sheep for to reign.
A gentle pull of ripened peach.
Despotic trolls simply beseached.
Propaganda with a fascist Q.
Gullible marks duped to a coup.
Beguiled & riled & released on the hill.
Zealots and bigots, too eager to kill!
Squinting towards the lens, pressed fingers poised
Patter of shutters point to ample publication
Greater than any citizens' optimised hopes
Helicopter swept, high stake hustling self opinion
Gratuitous frog mouth catches fools, sticky tongue lashings
Golf club strolling, silver spoon holding, crumbs for cleaners
Pussy grabber dresses in pro life garb for target demographic
Speaks the language of fanaticism, fist in scripture
Heavy repertoire laced in hate. Dire threat leant on as a pillar
Podium fronted pompous smoothes fear with one liners
Gambling with virus spits in the face of reckless ruler
Trillion dollar trade removed, blackjack tapped table bust
Mogul makes workers homeless amidst bankruptcy claims
Grotesque filing fails retains dozens of glinting casinos
Gall lets leader make meme of nuclear dictator
Having little remaining reign tenure, pocket profane folds
12th July 2020
You were a talented British actor but sadly, not anymore.
If you hadn't died, today you would've turned ninety-four.
You starred in an episode of "Fawlty Towers" and "Dalziel and Pascoe".
Forty-four years ago, you starred in "The Adventures Of Picasso".
You starred in an episode of "Last Of The Summer Wine".
You starred in an episode of "Mogul" and "Space: 1999".
You starred in a short lived British sitcom titled "Cuffy".
After living a long life, you died at the age of ninety-three.
When you starred in Fawlty Towers, you beat up John Cleese.
Today would have been your birthday, may you Rest In Peace.
[Dedicated to Bernard Cribbins (1928-2022) who died on July 27, 2022]
A big "if"
get a whiff
Me? zero.
my hero...
Ben Franklin
wise statesman
scientist
columnist.
Ben's passwords -
Poor Richard's
crackerjack
almanack.
Did Silence
Dogood sense
women's rights
and insights?
Philly fire
would inspire
Ben's brilliance -
insurance
Self-taught, thence
Ben invents
bifocals
smart mogul.
Next project
he'd perfect
ladder chair
with step stair.
Millionaire
takes a dare
Kites and keys
lightning please.
A new hat
diplomat
Ben would dance
off to France.
Death's closed door
eighty-four
Famous men
admire Ben.
September 18, 2020
rewritten March 9, 2021
for contest: If I Were Famous..
sponsor:
I’ll sing you dream songs
that last as long as the hills
but know this my love
it’s fullness IS
the striving of our wills
Against the darkness
that has crept stealthily
into the hearts of man
I cannot describe
this latent longing
to rest mine eyes
upon the faces of my joy
to stay there reticent
upon the turn of your gaze
Soft sentience gathers
like a cloak of gauze
to be not disaffected by
the backs of those who consume
the refuse of worthlessness
and despise excellencies
but prefer the violations of every
virtue , whose villainy
is unconcealed on any level
considered the character
OF MAN
Salacious , drooling compounded
with the Sophistry of sophistication
Supercilious in their vanities
as rottenness to a tree
Nay , but here I seek
a palate for the delicacy
yielding tender fruit
so desirable as it’s fleeting
from a world gone course
that swallows any thoughts
of pursuing a nature
whose potency can be clearly seen
I defy your erosions
corrosion of thought and deeds
whose love is less than
rutting animals
I decry your mogul media
your grand theatrics
I have divorced you
to pursue a finer thought
I’ll pass you on the street
you will have my hello
but don’t expect to drag me
to your peers whose
consciousness is gone
even in the daytime
I will , my time
with the quality , geniality
of thoughts vibrant
of the orchestral heights
and cast your lows
into some other state
COPYRIGHT © 2013 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
Cold front brings August respite
upon cusp of autumn quite
natural palliative to forget monetary plight
relieving spate of dog days of summer
seasonal crisp balm appeared overnight
evidenced of late by Jeeves
cool temperatures at night
temporarily bumping ugly
global warming with moonlight
sonata courtesy mother nature
perfect bonfire weather courtesy lignite
kept burning chaste cheerful pro bono
strong arm moored Sir Lancelot knight
sinewy physique, muscularly lean
apropos appellation applied Jack Lite
doubling up as Jack Frost
i.e. old man winter based
on Farmer's almanac
forecasters, who possess
sixth sense insight
predicting harsh winter, yeah right
as if standing atop shoulders of giants
towering, rivaling, overshadowing...
Jack and beanstalk re: fabulous height
seedy tale Aesop pose ghostwrite
ten and/or retold by Flora Annie Steel
fanciful imaginative flight
first appeared as The Story to delight
kids all ages of Jack Spriggins and
the Enchanted Bean in 1734 quite
similar to goose that laid golden egg
wishful thinking miniature
cogs and wheels spin
furiously at midnight
fantasizing escaping out
maws o' penury plight
accepting hand to mouth existence
experiencing pleasant distraction
as fall weather doth excite
reminding me seasonal change
could kindle potential playwright
within, which storyline outright
fabrication trumpeting rich mogul
comprising make believe webbed world
frees yours truly 24/7 nightmarish fright
one forlorn bummer groveling along...
holding transformative amulet tight
precious stone of malachite
imparting deep energy cleaning,
bringing healing powers that
powers love delight.