Long Pillaging Poems
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Adulterous besieging capstone damnation
exploitation foists groping, heaving
insidiously jerking
knowingly lunges
machinations notoriously nymphomaniacal
officiating penile quests
rapaciously, sadistically
tenaciously, unstoppably
vasocongested wickedness
Xerses yawped zeolously.
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All throughout history of man/woman kind
ascendent civilizations extensively gouged,
impailed, kindled, murderous outrages
quashing sacred urges, women yearned.
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Versatile thematic refrain punctuating nubiles
maximized looting, pillaging, raping
visited upon females via decimating fountainhead
guarding brestworks of vestal virgins,
innocent youths (little boys and girls).
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Twenty first century *****Sapiens male population continue to applaud, covet, extol, gloat, invoke, kickstart, molest outrages, quest savagely thee unbridled wedded yoke appropriating coquettishly enshrined gals imposing killing mandates okaying queasy sordid ugly wretchedness yanking aborhent behavior denigrating, fulminating, harrassing, jawdropping lewdness, nabbing prized rearends, twerking, violently whiplashing, yelling zingers.
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Now not a day elapses with instances women claim untoward advances, and/or forced coercion to satiate and temporarily slate the sexual thirst informing prononced picadilloes (philandering if married pompous head honcho demands appeasement of coitus, ********, indecent lowball outrageous ribald uncouth x-rated animalistic, carnal, feral, gonadal, immoral, kleptomaniacally misogynistic, narcissistic, opportunistic, pathetically reprehensible, torturously undervaluing, validating virility within Yankee Doodle, haply lambasting, proudly touting, vaunted wayfair zest.
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The above meandering stream of consciousness attempted to amplify, a recent spate of accusations figuratively slapped against a male sex mongers, who specifically rule roost, and blithely, demandingly, forcefully, hideously, impishly, killingly, malignantly, opprobriously, powerfully, repeatedly, terminally, vindictively, wantonly, yearningly acrimoniously belittle, demean flagrantly, harshly insinuate keeping mindful, not publicize rabid tawdry unwanted villainous withering zeal!
(The Spanish conquerors of the
Americas read out their legal
document, the "Requerimiento",
to the Indians. Failure to comply
meant the Spanish were free to
do what they wanted.)
Conquistadors in Vera Cruz
found themselves a radical ruse.
If pillaging was muy, muy lento,
they just whipped out Requerimiento.
Composed in fifteen seventeen,
this document was ultra-mean.
It won more scraps than Robert E. Lee,
was deadlier than DDT.
Suppose you met an Aztec mob
that wasn't happy to be robbed,
and far from handing on a platter
its gold and silver, wives and daughters,
was minded to contest the matter,
Requerimiento got unrolled.
In legal Latin, gooks were told
with lots of quid and quod and quaem,
exactly what was sought of them.
The royal writ was read aloud
to help the puzzled Aztec crowd.
So none may later look askance,
the dinks got every sporting chance.
All the Aztecs had to do
(clause forty-nine of section two)
was pay the pope an entry fee,
accept infallibility,
and send some gold to line his coffers.
Who could baulk at such an offer?
Clause fifty-eight - the Spanish king
must get his cut of Aztec bling.
They're hazy over "king" and "Spain"?
We'll have long decades to explain.
They don't respond? It simply means
we blow them all to smithereens.
The finer points can wait till later.
Non-compliance means they're traitors.
We've read the thing, so now we're free
of all responsibility
for theft or damage, flood or fire,
and if perchance it should transpire
that they don't dig what's going down,
why, take it up with Cross and Crown.
Thank God it's not like that today.
Before we step into the fray,
we tell them they're a "conflict zone",
and send in laser-guided drones.
If they accept their crude religion
is now a dead and pointless pigeon,
and take divorce and teenage moms,
then we won't use our cluster bombs.
There's other stuff here, on our list -
like Coca-Cola, lobbyists,
The Dukes of Hazzard, John McCain,
obesity and acid rain ...
at least we don't do like before,
and sell them, as we wade ashore
to occupy their ancient land,
some junk they'll never understand.
Elegant in burnt orange afterglow,
sparkling starlight opens the show.
Neighbors and strangers appear all aroun’,
porch lights and car lights enlighten the town.
They arrive afoot and atop handlebars.
Tots wave from strollers like famed movie stars.
Mothers bellowing orders to stay in sight,
transgressors will rue being naughty tonight.
Flickering lights and untied laces
nudge fidgety feet through their paces.
Masquerade masks make eager accomplices’
too impish eyes and mischievous faces.
Scowling Jack-O-Lanterns carved in creepy effigies
prove impotent charms to appease candied fantasies.
Festooned arches adorned in orange and black,
ornate ornaments to win the neighborhood plaque.
Into the gauntlet of terror they swarm;
dressed to play in pillaging uniform.
Tree and flower tremble and quiver;
Bumped and trampled in their fervor.
Werewolves wailing through grimacing grins
herald a night of howling hymns.
Ghostly spirits from the bowels of earth,
hang from gallows, grinning in ghoulish mirth.
Silken chains embracing all who stray,
beckons the widow to her frightened prey.
Garnished by cackling cries of certain demise,
steaming cauldrons poach their pitiful prize.
Spades of woe shadow souls who rashly ignore,
ominous omens attached to windows and doors.
Like tocks from a clock they continue to arrive,
will the morrow find anyone left still alive?
Hostiles charitably looting town,
sacks of booty slowing them down.
Toting bags of looted plunder,
looming hordes scatter asunder.
Pass me by, to my neighbor grace his stage,
assuage with him your gluttonous rage.
Rapacious hands swaying in ritual dance,
exuberance untethered in blitzing advance.
Eyeing my castle the rioting rabble rush in,
guarded only by growlin’ dog an’ smilin’ pumpkin.
Upon my stoop they brazenly climb,
my breath on hold, I hear the chime.
My time I fear is near at hand,
my blood or treasure they demand.
Hunkered down and hidden from sight,
no mercy presented for my plight.
With sweaty palms and pounding heart,
please Lord I pray, make them depart.
For a shot of strong “Spirits” I silently scream,
‘cause I forgot the candy on this Halloween!
GOODLUCK
Gutless muffled monarch wooed millions to the poll,
Oozing pathetic speech of poverty (I once had no shoes)
On congruent grounds we let him, though we hated his coterie.
Disappointed, we wail, waiting substitute to end the reign of quack
Lacklustre, insipid and a pervading naivety.
Unvaried captain rocks this boat, gagged by plunderers.
Circles of death, twinge, miseries the reign of a drab creek king
Kleptocracy adorning imposition,
EBELE
Embezzlers on rampage, holes bequeathed for pillaging.
Bandits as conniving ministers besmirched obtuse scamp
Egregious craven shrieked at the sound of war “I am not a lion”.
Laggard lumper loon left fanatical murderers at our doorsteps
Encumbrances from delinquent clan divide the love for mother land
DAME
Damp squib's duchess & indecent tongue, devoid of restraint
Audacious domestic appendage ferrying funds
Merriment and intrigue feigned as obligations,
Edgy. encumbrance though ceaselessness forms their amity.
PATIENCE
Punk pretending and purloining to private vaults.
Adventurous nerve for futile globe -trot.
Twitchy at state's affairs though never elected.
Intoxicated by serendipity, shaming all with activity.
Euphemistic drama, Scrappy curiosity with comedy.
National dilemma by decorated buffoons.
Crude verbiages to amuse eggheads “my Fellow widows”
Encomium of approval turned sour “Power” the pipe for thieves.
JONATHAN
Jokers jostled in enthusiasm to rule, (politicking )
Onslaught from 'Boko-Haram' drove sleep from wearied countrymen
Numbed as "hoipolloi echoed NO to mistimed removal,
Alas, the fraud, rapscallion looting Criminals Lords over us
Tyranny cloaked garbs, creek professor without a thesis.
Higgledy-piggledy a travesty called democracy.
Amidst the rubble of a crumbling amalgam,
Nigerian Lords watched the drama secured, while we die helpless
while atop the surface of planet Earth humanity
all abustle skittering
to and fro, hither and yon
engaged in self important activity yielding profits,
sans blood, sweat and tears won
full throttle industrial
manufacturers quaking unstoppably
only intermittently pausing,
where managers standing arms akimbo
asper quizzical looking hue cree ton
megaphone blaring orders to underlings
so "Boss" tweed can line pockets
for his/her daughter and/or son
Head Honcho most aggrieved,
when red ink doth run
undermining the bottom line,
thus farming out labor to distant places
(where wages amount
to pennies on the dollar)
locals such as Lake Woebegone, Qum, Timbuktu,
et cetera where pun
gnashing working conditions tantamount
to slave labor,
yet scare other options open
hence able bodied men,
women and children scramble,
despite back breaking grueling physically
exhausting grunt job accepting second to none
with nary any rest for weary
long as workweek includes a mon
day, where bloodied bare hands claw
purported Mother lode
with feigned frenzied zest
enterprise bolstered
via executive bank ministers
financing lucrative scheme
attended to by majordomo
attired in expensive vest
corporate investment project elicits
quaffing, imbibing, and chugging elixir
produced from heavily guarded recipe
qua electric kool aid acid test
where coeval business men/women rest
assured bonanza forecast upon
former green acres hiding treasured quest
marginally concerned such nettlesome
pillaging, ravaging, torturing ranks
wealth driven vanity as deleterious pest
shortsighted exploitation money making embarkation
glorified as investment nsync to feather nest
retirement funds despite leaving the environment messed
up, whereby future generations saddled with
poorly bandaging gentrifying, resuscitating
gaping wounds upon Gaia at best
shortening quality of life
for all (poetry) Earthlings aye attest.
It doesn’t do any good to mind your own business,
if you’re black, you’re going to get knocked down.
Makes no difference if a hundred people beg them,
they’re going to keep you pinned to the ground.
A child is ripped away, stolen from his mother’s arms,
and gets forgotten in a cage somewhere.
Lost and alone the young child begins to cry and beg,
but there’s nobody who will even care.
Chorus:
Surely. This is not happening in my America,
all this news just has to be fake.
This does not happen here in my America,
there must be some kind of mistake.
It’s the land of the free in my America,
you can be anything that you want to be.
It’s full of milk and honey in my America,
where everyone has a right to be free.
The white, the black, the red, and brown,
each say they know what equality means.
But each will hold a knife at the throat of the other,
and we can’t agree on a Goddamned thing.
Every person works hard for the money we make,
but it’s not enough to even get by.
The rich folks tell the government puppets what to think,
and we will keep on believing their lies.
Repeat Chorus:
We keep on burning, looting, and pillaging our friends,
while they are busy building street blockades.
People turn their backs toward our American flag,
and take a knee when our anthem is played.
Removing our statues, our memorials, and graves,
if we erase our past, we’re doomed to do it again.
How will we ever figure out where we are headed,
if we don’t even know where we have been.
Repeat Chorus:
Do you remember that American dream,
that we had way back a long time ago?
When fathers still told their children,
work hard to get to where you want to go.
We can’t even come together long enough,
to perform this one single task.
Believing in ourselves and our future,
how can that be too much to ask?
Repeat Chorus:
So go ahead men, women, and children,
keep on looking for that free pass.
If we are not willing to do the hard work,
then our nation will end up in the trash.
(Repeat Chorus and Fade)
We live in strange times, my brother
men make money
with war dances
and occupation...
Do you not see the bombardments
and the pillaging?
Under the boot
you are worn out,
these days
the sweat of your brow
no longer serves you!
Tanks come from distant lands
passing down your streets
demanding to know
why you were born!
And you can say nothing.
Soon, if this continues,
it will be the course of progress
to be denied learning.
One speaks of the rights of man
here and there.
Do not believe those rumors!
You see that nothing is in place now!
We live in strange times my brother,
arms dealing,
construction
governing the land.
Is it so difficult to understand?
They sell the merchandise of war!
Come listen to my counsel.
Don't marry, it is unsupportable
to suffer the massacre of your children.
The success of your affairs depends
on producing fictitious enemies
to menace...
In this manner
they take over small countries
one after the other
under the pretext of saving them.
While you fight amongst yourselves
others consume your underground resources.
What should I tell you;
do these times plant sorrow
in your hearts?
Be a little understanding!
Increase the number of fratricidal wars,
divide your people further
to make the lives of the invaders easier.
Do not forget that to destroy love
requires only this:
Live in a society without love
and don't educate anyone...
Live in the clarity of obscurity,
depend only on yourself!
The sun rises and sets on time...
the throats of cocks are cut
that sing before the hour!
We live in strange times my brother,
men make money with war dances
and occupation...
Do you not see the bombardments
and the pillaging?
By Uzeyir Lokman CAYCI
Paris - 17.03.2003
Traduit par by Yakup YURT en français
French free verse translated into English free verse
by Joneve McCormick - 2003
The battle between body and spirit
Housed as I am,
in this earthenware vessel
I witness,
the raging between body and spirit.
My mood- sullen and morose,
a telling sign-
a flashing indicator-
pointing to a weakness in my will,
a slow debilitating decline in my convictions-
indicating a buttressing of my resolve-
is urgently needed.
This paroxysm has been a body blow,
and my spirit is reeling.
I am cloistered, incarcerated now these three years,
having served a portion of my sentence.
What is my crime?
These four walls,
such contemptible, wretched creatures-
mock me, taunt me, deride me
as weak and worthless;
but I know better!
I am shackled to the two evil twins-
misery and myalgia-
myrmidons- secret agents of the devil
serving at his pleasure.
Hell-bent they are on a wicked crusade
raping and pillaging the golden storehouses
of my treasured faith and hope.
Sacred vaults protect my integrity,
my zeal is still intact.
As I wrestle with my afflictions
I throw tantrums-like a feral beast
charging towards the drawn sword.
However, I succumb to the inevitable.
I sense the folly of the fight and submit,
although-unwillingly to this intransigent,
auto-immune disease.
How do you fight an enemy who is
entrenched in your marrow?
This enemy is coercing me on this death march
and it is unrelenting in it's insistence.
The gates of Sheol* beckon to me to enter,
I resist the clarion call, although the gravity
draws me ever closer to my sealed fate.
I see visions of paradise, here on earth,
where pain is no more,
and all suffering is a distant memory
until eternity erases it from my mind.
Unfortunately, for me,
looks like I'll be taking the subway,
instead of the train to paradise.
December 17,2018
For Misery contest Edward Ibeh
*Sheol Hebrew for the grave.
Not hell as a burning place of torment
as is commonly taught and believed.
Honoring Master Poe, Darkened Verses That Saddest Of Truths Reveals
The infinite black, oozing forth relentlessly unholy and unmerciful dread
with infinite sad cries from those once innocent and now long since dead
Only evil, and its many platoons of shadowy, and most ravenous beasts
can forage about for far more victims on which to torment and then feast
As this world, in its accursed and wicked wars can so many millions destroy
by nefarious means, even using greatest beauty- as it did with Helen of Troy!
From within deep bowels of earth up rise murderous legions of savage doom
man striving for eternity, but always meets evil and an unwelcoming tomb
Yet within Spring's Hope, man's sweetest of dreams, promising much more
always thought, Time for pleasures, treasures and gold, that one final score
Yet folly reigns, therein lies thunderous and those all powerful hands of Fate
where heard are sounds of Fated dread, words- "too late, just too damn late"!
The infinite black, cruising the land- to destroy and to be bloody well fed
with infinite resources, and victories from battles gushing bloody reds
With wailing cries from those seeking promise of Love and much longer Life
comes deepest of sorrows born from war- pillaging and world gifted strife
For within each breast lies a hiding beast, always ready to maim and kill
with Lusts to Feast upon those innocent victims, for its wickedly sated thrills!
Robert J. Lindley, 3-05-2020
Rhyme, ( On Reality, Dark Truth And Humanity's Endless Lusts And Greed )
Note:
Celebrating being exactly 66 years young today, I decided to honor
my favorite of all great poets, Edgar Allan Poe. Thus a very dark
poem was called for and one that speaks of modern times and reality
of this truly dark and evil world that we ALL must journey through
on the way to our predestined and most unfortunate, untimely end...
[ credits to LAURENT YVAN from France who read my poem ]
Launched over ages of primaeval forces
my nomadic ancestry calls out to me
winds howl driven over rolling hills
atop a ridge of rugged mountains
beyond vestiges of the long silk road
the Mongolian empire looks back at me
the spirit of the great Genghis Khan
runs feral forever through my veins
Mongolia and its harsh wilderness
its barren lands its haunted past
drumming echoes of summoned spirits
unleash the wrath of heaving heavens
I’m more than hoodlum with a vision
I’m a rebel at the helm of my said destiny
My brothers and I are born of a lineage
that’s jagged ruthless rich and proud
fierceness and freedom integral to our dna
we’ll defend our land and way of life
with brute strength and sheer intimidation
in spilled blood we write our history
come hell highwater feast or famine
the spirit of the great Genghis Khan
runs feral forever through our veins
We’ll round up the horses
and harness voracious winds
go out protect and safeguard at all cost
wave our swords and in hearts instill fear
cast our thunder over hills and valleys
earn respect for our ancestors’ inherited land
a kingdom conquered piecemeal by our warlord
father to our people and to our nation vast
A deep longing larger than life compels me
to preserve my legacy against betrayal and conspiracy
dark alliances with sights on pillaging and plundering
no more brutal bloodbaths and massacres
neo-medieval Mongol tribes and clans united
The spirit of the great Genghis Khan
feral through my veins forever runs
and that’s the Mongolia that calls on back to me
Read on air by invitation ~ May 30, 2020 'LATE NIGHT POETS'
AP: 2nd place 2025, 2nd plance 2022, 3rd place 2020, Front Page Pick 2022
Submitted on May 26, 2020 for contest BRIAN'S CHOICE V sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - RANKED 3RD