Long Moguls Poems
Long Moguls Poems. Below are the most popular long Moguls by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Moguls poems by poem length and keyword.
And how did things go with you, enquired the owl, of Dumpty.? Well he replied I travelled
quite a time and saw a few things on the way..' anything that points to foul play said the bird?
well on the way to where I ended up I came across some stuff said the Egg, really..' the
owl intoned leaning ever so slightly toward the egg..' what does it ' entail' the bird asked? as
at that moment it turned to preen its tail feathers..' well said Dumpty in a sibilant tone..!
As a matter of fact I think it best to discuss it further at some distance from here..! really
replied the owl again raising its eye feathers, and still managing to look refined in spite of a
slight waddle as it hurried along..' I..I well I don't know quite how..how well how to put it said Dumpty..!
to the owl, yet all the time looking over at the still prone form of the cat, but it appears.. Oh my: it seems...'
Dumpty said; that his name is..well its considered well.. Its a..a (square word) some nice guy name of
Daver Austin was celebrating some of your many exploits, and so on..and that's what happened..! It is as such classified..
I have even heard the name 'Moguls' mentioned..' in hushed tones around here,,' pray tell dear
owl, are they descendants of that Genghis Khan; by any chance..?
copyright joe maverick poetry 2014
Spending all our money, on anything that kills
F.D.A.'s approving more pretty poison pills
Politicians ponder, plot with the living dead
Mass media moguls, are feeding on my head
Countries run by Stooges, most everywhere you go
All these Uncle Scrooges, who just want mo' and mo'
Polar ice caps melting, the lakes are drying up
There's oil by the gallons, common sense by the cup
With prices going up, and incomes going down
Not many can afford, a night out on the town
Cuz the "whored" is hungry, they're dining on our screams
Dripping wet with champagne covered caviar dreams
Interest rates fluctuate, determined by the FED
And how can we believe, what some Simple Simon said
When Donkey's on the left, bite Dumbo's on the right
They hate when we agree, just love it when we fight
Ol' Gram and Gramps got rooked, "checkmate" to inflation
Their benefits got cooked, COLA's on vacation
They bought and bartered schools, A.I.'s the big romance
Backhand these chartered fools, and give our kids a chance
Like God amassing gifts of gold and frankincense and myrrh,
vain potentates, possessed by pride that riches will confer,
depleted pillaged villages in pagan days of old…
With penetration privileges, their fortunes were foretold.
In feudal times, chaste clerics, cloaked, wrapped rings around the mind
with hymns of magic, mystic myths and figurines enshrined,
while blessing bayonet-like blades that mutilate and maim…
With penetration privileges, believers bore no blame.
In search of caramel colonies, some sailors set their sails
to conquer puppet provinces, for sovereignty prevails,
purloining wicked treasure troves which others claimed their own…
With penetration privileges, such sins sustained the throne.
Well, nowadays the quest proceeds, this time for ebon oil,
so peoples once again are caught within the serpent’s coil
and, pierced by fangs of greed and lust, death yields benign escape…
With penetration privileges, you’re free to rip and rape.
We wave the flags and beat the drums and often kneel to pray
to glorify our victories, bold, that happen far away;
but none salute the severed souls impaled upon a pike…
With penetration privileges, the riffraff look alike.
One day the moguls won’t agree on how to slice the pie;
they’ll spit and spat and, tit-for-tat, atomic barbs will fly -
but when the button’s finally pressed, they too will grace the heap…
With penetration privileges, the hole that’s hewn is deep.
I'd heard one day 'about the light'
UK independant paper circulating
By day and night
I'm going to get me; a copy to see
How well it reads.. Is its editor free?
To discuss and discourse?
Now that should par for the course.'
Yet the path has been beaten
By those hell bent on disreason
Moguls of mayhem,
Till some; people are too numb;
To gainsay their dark hum-dum
Maybe I'll read of freedom and living?
Where the hokey cokey; comes easy?
Easier than sunbeams, on rooftops
When you're all fatigued with sad headlines
Turn a page, I'm willing for revelation
To hold the balance of true reason; in nations.'
At Stirling Castle, history,
Imparted by a guide,
Allows us to imagine
What the artifacts provide.
The weapons and the uniforms,
The chambers and decor,
All displayed in ways to show us
Things we’ve never seen before.
Yet upon some walls are tapestries
Depicting what we know
Of the story of the unicorn
And how they laid him low.
For most visitors, they’re magic
And, although we were impressed,
They are copies of originals
And don’t quite pass the test.
In New York, we have the Cloisters
With those tapestries on view
And we’ve seen them many times
Because that’s what we tend to do.
We may not have ancient castles
Back at home, but we have art,
Often purchased by the moguls,
Super-rich and super-smart.
Annette Arnold had recently left college
And was thrust into flimsy dating realms;
She grabbed pen and paper to describe
Top-choice dude of her fanciest dreams.
Dashingly handsome and of complexion nice,
And gallant gait akin to quaint legends' knight;
Sainted for inventive hare's monstrous brains,
Whose vast wit tales eternalize in folios white.
Certainly wielding humongous fiscal sway
At glance to dwarf mythology’s Midas' turn;
Brandishing glitzy wads as any moguls may,
Ever copiously donating all yet lacking none.
Life tenant within fame's flashiest abodes
Where prince and duke sure habitat have,
And king and princess choicest liquids sip;
Where queen and gods fine victuals serve.
Never must such his hallowed mistress
With betrayal's faithless mischiefs afflict,
Defiling indelible vows in his loyal troths,
He’ll steadily love whatever woes persist.
And so first to hit her with resistless lines
Was one William Watts imbiber of wines;
Neither that dashing handsome nor wise;
Faring far from afore-hinted pigment nice.
After wee-witted Williams’ charming vibes
Popped Ronald Riveter from politest tribes,
Known for most arresting manly physique;
Sorry stranger to Midas’ coin-clinking trick.
When Bernard Belmont's pics were seen
He looked plain and of disposition mean;
Unacquainted with idolized royalty’s fame,
Unadorned with duke's resplendent name.
And last Jason Jay did his mistresses vex
If records past might reveal lovers' specks;
His faint affections as whims rose and fell;
Sundering divinest troths as irate exes tell.
Searing decades of pen-and-paper wait
Nabbed no Knight of heaven-hewn trait;
And so did choice-wiser Annette Arnold
Award meek Martin Monks her aisle nod.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
If time were currency, the markets would thunder~
seconds sold at sunrise, minutes bought at dusk.
Would the rich wear hourglass cuffs, their palms full of sand?
Would moguls hoard eternity in vaults of will?
If time were currency, the markets would stall~
seconds faltering at the altar of the inevitable end.
Would beggars clutch crumbs of twilight?
Would the wretched fold their hands, praying for a minute to survive?
If time were currency, ruthless time smugglers would flourish~
stolen seconds and rusted gears bootlegged, hidden in their pockets.
Would a grief-stricken widow purchase one final glance?
Would a remorseful thief return his first mistake?
If time were currency, time bankers would be ecstatic~
our seconds and unspent days bartered for kindness.
Would an abused wife purchase a moment of random kindness?
Would a cancer patient trade her kindness for a cure?
If time were currency, would we...
...be cognizant of clocks with hollow hands and hourglass smugglers?
…hoard the dawn, stuffing our pockets with moonlight spilling between the blinds?
…learn to spend time wisely before the last invoice of our soul is paid?
in our measure of time
there are curious circles filling our days,
numbered moments marked by the scars of transiting lights,
heavens moguls of tribulation 'n plight,
that give or take away --
the indifference of time that measures man,
in cycles round 'bout heavens span,
meted out in lines that grid the world
in constant sorrow, Saturn stuttered,
disappearing today in some further loss of tomorrow,
yet we also know that ticking clocks in circles go,
'til time enough for love is lost to reasons chains and at what cost;
the Gods of Time in cycles go, a-round, a-bout, a-turning slow,
fast re-turned, they come, they go,
there's time enough, for love you know.
though I spend my time,
circling the horizon with my mind's eye,
seeking the curve of her Venus belt,
a circumference of sunset reds,
surrounding the sky, she is on the face of it,
a timeless piece, a swinging pendulum of rhythms sway,
a clock that circumscribes my day,
and in every second of my nights,
a tick to my tock that ne'er quits
nor ever is passe'
The deep plot of their craft,
the subtle tyranny in flowery cloak
Greek gift from white house “Doctor”
hoped to be a Hero,
and as the Parthian becomes a Nero by a mandate,
so soon t would be a Zero.
sickly old men in power,
compelling all as slaves,
decrees devoid of wisdom,
quacks science as solutions,
the suggestions of moguls,
the media and Presidents,
corona virus their invention
One Fauchi their spokesman,
WHO their propagandist,
preventing clean oxygen with a mask,
Isolation like a monk,
experimental vaccines their cure,
Our choice ignored,
We should ignore the casualties from the experiment,
Compromise our immune system with a Jab,
despite, the “Bell's Palsy”,
The “Myocarditis”,
the “blood clot”, the “guillain-barre Syndrome”
or whatever the effect in the long run,
Just take the Jabs or Loose your Job,
draconian rules like socialists,
intensified folly of Beijing's bio- terrorism.
Kill me Dictator,
I am not your guinea pig
From glory to dust-2
F ragile humans flailing away at cataclysmic events, trying to
R ule the world without a clue, not knowing the way
O ut... Impressive they try to be, imposing their
M ediocrity in synchronicity with deceptive ideologies
G lamourously they present themselves as role models
L eaders of society, in the arts, and business moguls
O f the sports world, they excel high above the
R est of the competition, they are winners, never
Y ielding to doubt or fear, ever overconfident
T oo many times they reach the summit, the peak of power
O nly to find themselves crashing down into the mire of disgrace
D isillusionment will rule the hopeful mind and heart of the innocent
U ntil the day when they finally comprehend that humans on their own
S imply cannot control or manage the chaos that confronts this world
T ogether the impious and vainglorious rulers will return to the dust.
John Derek Hamilton
March 22,2017