Long Predominant Poems
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blue war red hot political issues dont amount
to a hill of beans
when Sword of Damocles count
approaches zero hour
as global tensions mount
signaling increased chance
trigger finger will free
avast nuclear winter
(across world wide web) re:
leasing plethora pyrocumulus
mushroom clouds tree
mend us planetary explosions
annihilating webbed wide
world, an irrevocable earthlinked debacle
spelling widespread species
multitudinous extinction
ex post de facto after super
bowling powers (wannabe) vied
to wrest empowerment spanning
entire realm sans third rock
from the father, sun and holy ghost,
who turned substantial pock
kits of flora and fauna
once populating oblate spheroid ad hoc
significant swaths of life forms
pulverized and/or turned to ash
transformed into radioactive wasteland
after war mongers brash
lee usurped hegemony
(ruling inhabitants
of Gaia with an iron fist
with a smidgen of flavoring
courtesy of Missus Dash
superfluous taste enhancer,
when sibling burnt offering views
between Venus and Mars incendiary
tolled mourning news
smithereens sole remnant
poisoned every square inch
from weapon of mass destruction
that did cruise
engendering thick noxious fog
(disabling fox and roach)
while smoldering seas and continents
skull and crossbones didst poach
amidst the gasified, liquified, pureed
where holographic ghoulish super bowl coach
rendering lifelessness home for menagerie
where virtue trounced vice as organisms
(particularly one primate) didst try
(predominant 21st century simians)
tool heave with amity, comity, and empathy
animals and plants an experiment
that went a wry
presaging a nuclear winter with nary a winner
implicating mankind as the absolute sinner
instantaneously after Doomsday Clock
signaled point of no return
where grim reaper the sole grinner.
Form:
The wind blew constantly,
Judas felt cold, cold outside, cold inside.
He had betrayed his love.
Could he make atonement?
Show some self respect?
Will love find out
how deep his guilt was?
Must he despair?
He was truly lost.
He sat down against an olive tree
A rotten fruit fell.
His despair increased.
The Bible never mentioned what fruit Adam and Eve ate. Certainly it was not an apple. Biblical studies considered the olive trees as the most predominant in the Mediterranean. It could have been large and sweet. After the fall of Adam and Eve, the olives turned sour and shrank. So Jesus began his Passion in the garden of olives. All this is theoretical. One can believe what he wants.
Hey, I'm in no position, to pre-judge or undermine
What beggars my thoughts, just what do others find
Hey, look out today's windows, pray tell me what you see
Is it the World of forty years ago, I don't think so for me
Hey, where has it all gone wrong, whether your Islam or another
Just maybe Islamist countries, needed the West to discover
Hey, tolerance has probably bitten, just where's our resources
Or even the proportioned profits, is it horses for courses
Hey, with predominant factions growing, having their say
It looks like the West has festered, their modernists display
Hey, especially to this day, have the fundamentalists sight
Have we gone beyond before, and we find nobody is right!
Hey, look where this has lead us, incredible as it sounds
Simply hatred unknown forty years ago, by who's Devils Hand.
She seems afraid to say too much
and not listen enough.
Perhaps fear of becoming misunderstood
and, worse, too quickly dismissed,
her moment,
even in this small-staged sanctuary,
unnoticed
under-nourished
unfed
unwatered.
She wants to share with us
her deviant dissonant sufficiency
usually seen as negative degenerating autonomy
but, occasionally, in epiphanies of positive
ecologically healthy
revolutionary ZeroZen resonant potential,
Receptive tingling silence
thumping and breathing
singly ringing singing
timelessly herstoric
within domesticating unreal world paradise,
unwombed worn integrity re-memories
echoing between nightseed dreams
and switching off her leftbrain daily alarm.
Until she smiles
I am impressed by her nothing is sadly wrong
yet everything goes unsanctuary
too patriarchally long,
Business As RightWing World gone,
anxiety about personal and political
and social and psychological
and mental and physical health issues
for future climate chaos kids
reversing integrity's robust synergetic win-win potential.
I notice then
soft teeth with nearly infinite hard work
pain
suffering loss,
alone?
Physically alone
and not spiritually unautomated
feminist suffering deviance
often in counterculturing win-win ways
to help others,
more win-lose predominant,
suffer unspoken withdrawal
defeated less.
Once
I see her primal eyes smile
and suddenly my own competitive mistrust,
my own opaque naked fear
goes away,
dismissed by curious eagerness.
Compassion therapeutically co-arises.
I ask if she too suffers
without sufficient release
from mutually withheld win-lose
zero sums of loneliness,
mistrust of fully disclosed intimacy
vulnerability
co-empathic joy.
She continues
now turning toward wealthy belly laughs
co-operating integrity
mutually vibrating abdowomen,
soul sound of synergy's vast wisdom
loudly rooting for potential global health
through her sanctuary solidarity,
still curiously becoming.
She seems fearless to listen too much
and eager to not say
and sing enough
already.
To embrace something with full acceptance
for the beauty or the worth that it conveys
is an adventure that offers more excitement;
would this occur if there were no influence?
I've adapted to new ideas and made them my own
to ignite inspiration and do excellent, timeless works;
today there is a predominant need to expose a thought...
when overused words sound bland and are wind-blown.
If new writers have been influenced by famous works,
they must make a greater effort to make theirs unique;
greatness is achieved by worthiness, not by cleverness,
so adjust to any conceivable idea and make it your own
with an originality that stands out and earns admiration.
In this society with evolving literature, science and inventions...
one must adapt to changes quickly to avoid some harsh critique;
be that artist who conjures up real plots to win the readers' hearts.
Written on /29/2016
Vladimir Putin itching
to loose nuclear bomb
end of the world scenario ofttimes
iterated throughout history
though an atheist (actually Unitarian),
no doubt this, that or another psalm
countless times the Bible
references Armageddon and doomsday
impossible mission to remain
cool, collected and calm.
Whether affiliated with donkey or elephant
Democrat or Republican viz
blue war red respectively
political hot issues don't amount
to a (Sam) hill of beans
when Sword of Damocles count
approaches zero hour
as global tensions mount
signaling increased chance
trigger finger will free
avast nuclear winter
(across world wide web) re:
leasing plethora, pyrocumulus
mushroom clouds tree
mend us planetary explosions
annihilating webbed wide
world, an irrevocable
indeed earthlinked debacle
spelling widespread species
multitudinous extinction
ex post de facto after super
bowling powers (wannabe) vied
to wrest empowerment spanning
entire realm sans third rock
from the father, sun and holy ghost,
who turned substantial pock
kits of flora and fauna
once populating oblate spheroid ad hoc
significant swaths of life forms
pulverized and/or turned to ash
transformed into radioactive wasteland
after war mongers brash
lee usurped hegemony
(ruling inhabitants
of Gaia with an iron fist
with a smidgen of flavoring
courtesy of Missus Dash
superfluous taste enhancer,
when sibling burnt offering views
between Venus and Mars incendiary
tolled mourning news
smithereens sole remnant
poisoned every square inch
from weapon of mass destruction
that did cruise
engendering thick noxious fog
disabling fox but not cockroach
while smoldering seas and continents
skull and crossbones didst poach
amidst the gasified, liquified, pureed
where holographic ghoulish super bowl coach
rendering lifelessness home for menagerie
where virtue trounced vice as organisms
(particularly one primate) didst try
(predominant 21st century simians)
tool heave with amity, comity, and empathy
animals and plants an experiment
that went awry
presaging a nuclear winter with nary a winner
implicating mankind as the absolute sinner
instantaneously after Doomsday Clock
signaled point of no return
where grim reaper the sole grinner.
POTD 4th Nov 2019
Vanquishing all reservation
twilight's prelude heralds
shadowy anticipation
of a secret amorous thirst
He surrenders once more
to his darkest desires
amplifies the sultry ambiance
with star spangled bursts
A slave in her entity
tremulous in her splendour
Captivating and illuminating
this shadowy tryst
yet her heart beats not in rhythm
to the songs he composes
she dismisses him once more
Saying… ‘it is what it is’
However, through chinks of his ardour
ebbing resplendence
Predominant primacy
hard to resist will persist
refusing to believe …’it is what it is’
refusing to believe …’it is what it is’
The intricacies of love
too difficult to fathom
Her preference mismatched
he cannot define
her daily mantra
heightens sensations
reserved for the one
who appears to outshine?
Nothing but ineffectual
is her discordant course
the unyielding reality
of it drives him insane
and through the ebbing darkness
she hears him screaming ….’it is NOT what it is
It is Not what it is’
No satin ropes will tether
her cosmic line of duty
No romantic soft liaison
would induce her to stay
Tremulous and tender
her love cruelly wanders
from his romantic serenade
she turns her light away
Succumbs to his enemy…Day
whispering softly…. ‘it is what it is
It is what it is’
POTD 4th Nov 2019
It's raining today - dreary it may be
The imagery of the raindrops in my view
Dripping ! In my brain I visualize
The dark clouds surrounding me
Thus I see - will there be sunlight
I look, I ponder! I watch and I surmise
the sun may peak in these predominant skies
Mesmerized - sun rays gleam in my eyes
Those beautiful hues - and yet the spectrum
The iris - that beautiful rainbow
It feeds my soul - I look at beauty
And thus blooms the flower - I know
It rained today and thus I say
The gardens grew - if you only knew
I woke - I had beautiful thoughts
Raindrops danced on my life this day
And yes! I saw a bud flourish petals
It's spring - and the rain doth bring
With a little help from the sun , my flower
Blooming in my head I visualize
Look what I saw when I looked at the skies
Imagery in my head, I thought
Imagine it - and the bird it may sing
Music to my ears - I listen - I see
That spring - it's really blessing me
Enlightened I saw the dead rose then grow
And I sit, I still ponder , it's roots I know
And the rose once posed- still life - of art
Prominent are the skies to make you wonder
The rain might start!!!!!
Again & again
Beauteous Be Poesy is my book of poetry available on googles, amazon. com and Barnes & Noble published by Trafford Publishing. wrtten by Miss Stacey Law
A Belated CCV Das Kapital event...
regarding birthday anniversary
wicked candle box event burns bright
for Karl Marx,
who amazingly graced,
and kindled pinterest
jumpstarting money fest destiny.
Born May 5, 1818, in Trier Germany
to Heinrich and Henrietta Marx,
sans the third of nine children
(and second oldest heir)
Karl Marx thinking begot incendiary sparks,
asper his two most controversial publications
titled The Communist Manifesto,
and Das Kapital,
which political philosophy
incubating seeds of life
of self destruction didst birth
doctrines of class struggle,
historical materialism, dearth
of equitable wealth, and inherent
contradictions of industrial capital
distributed unevenly
across avast swath of Earth
thus inviting his perspective
(conveniently exploited,
mined, and usurped) advocating
the working class (proletariat)
to expedite organized revolutionary action
to topple capitalism and bring about
socio-economic emancipation,
where wages of sin
exchanged for labor bled
fingers to the bone life source, viz proletariat
till slaving laborer nearly
became gratefully dead
despite being encased in 12 point
Times New Roman garb,
who incessantly fed
insatiably maws of production,
(no way to get a supportive talking head)
particularly highlighted
within schema of Capitalism),
a predominant paradigm
stratifying society led
to internal tensions engendered
between bourgeoisie red
dilly controlling means
of production codified as said
as die a critical approach Marx coined
as historical materialism,
where figurative landmines
forced one to tread
gingerly, thus above stated philosophy
would supposedly lead down the road
where self destruction wrought marriage
birthing Socialism offspring
from shotgun wedding,
thus coaxing eventual establishment
to house scholar and gent
of classless communist society meant
to establish free association
of Indie producers who spent
exchanging merchandise amidst classless
campy population hood pitched a tent.
Bare skull and cross bones
existence on the peripheral
outskirts of poker flats
lives a slip of a man,
whereat he never felt deserving
accolades linkedin
with appeasement,
sans pat on back congrats,
asper bringing peace,
and tranquility to the
kingdom taken over
by trumpeting democrats,
without any armed
populace resorting,
(nor police present)
affecting a coup d'etat
(carried out
by military expats),
no...amazingly enough,
non violent government
takeover won by votes
during midterm elections,
who rendered
the equivalent outcome
(actually a stunt
more difficult)
than analogously bringing
rabbits out of hats,
which predominant number
of socially progressive winners
shared the sir name "Katz"
ironic since such
ethical congressional
"Freshman" hoped to scare
out all the corrupt rats
and, thus hit upon,
(or one newly elected
acolyte dreamt) master bait,
which involved one participant
to experience potentially
a stormy Dane yell'n date,
thus unnamed
wizard (specializing
in far out, and groovy
grandiose high jinks fate
hood did don an outfit
resembling the Great
Tony the Tiger, no matter,
he reputedly happened
tubby a serial killer,
yet said Grand
Poobah did integrate
each puzzle piece
of his Khanate
with a combination of
bluster, gimcrackery
cheap tricks deceit,
"FAKE" hate
as to snatch the checkered mate,
(essentially a hie
bred Matted Scottish
tartan Harris tweed
couture rib banned jester,
who didst orchestrate)
so much tom foolery, his
basic winning technique
quite antic quate
head, nonetheless
far more ingenious than
latest technological state
of the art revolutionary
trappings, thus never
outmoded ways underrate!