Long Principality Poems
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Let’s sail away to Acapella,
A celebrity haunt owned by Penn and Teller.
I shall act as your prince, you’ll be Cinderella
When we’re sat on a beach in Acapella.
It’s not as sexy as Cannes or as dowdy as Rhyl
But their choirs and ensembles will give you a thrill,
Acapella compares well to old Casablanca,
As you will observe once we have dropped anchor.
Their libraries don’t hold any musical score,
Acoustic folk singers are considered a bore,
All keyboards and trombones were sold overseas
And whistles restricted to football referees.
So you won’t hear the bagpipes of Kenneth McKellar
Or repetitive bass notes plucked by Paul Weller.
Your voice will entrance all the ladies and fellas
Once we’ve moored in the harbour of Acapella’s.
There fishermen bring ashore haddock and bream
Having sung shanties as a well-rehearsed team,
The salty sea breeze gives their voices a rasp
And the youngest amongst them let out a gasp!
Melodic and manly, the crews ride the waves,
Proud of their seamanship, masters not slaves,
They heed the advice of their mothers and aunties
But rarely acknowledge the source of their shanties.
Once a solitary busker was found in a yacht
And by all accounts he deserved what he got,
He was forced down the plank at the tip of a sword
Then his vintage viola was flung overboard!
On the pier you’ll find orators and callers at bingo,
But no jukebox is pumping out John, Paul or Ringo.
Pop or rock music gives locals the creeps,
It’s no wonder that George’s guitar gently weeps.
So, if Customs Control takes your squeezebox or trumpet
Don’t seek compensation, you’ll just have to lump it;
Those instruments go to a processing plant
Because singers are welcome but musicians aren’t.
We shall seek out the nightlife in numerous bars
Where the locals all sing without playing guitars,
Dodge the Lambrettas in quaint cobbled alleys,
Then stride across hills and along peaceful valleys.
So, if you’re tired of concertos or singles by Queen
Book a cruise to a place where they’re considered obscene,
It’s a magical island owned by Penn and by Teller -
The remote principality of Acapella.
So let us sail forth across the briny
In a luxury yacht - well furnished and shiny
To where your vocal range will be valued quite highly,
And you won’t have to sit through Baba O’Riley.
I've ventured far from Indiana, the home soil of my birth,
To many exotic and exciting places all about this earth.
I've seen majestic Mount Fuji from the Kanto Plain of Tokyo.
But I'd rather marvel at Pikes Peak right here in Colorado!
I've traveled the rugged Khyber Pass in ancient Pakistan,
And saw sumo wrestling and cherry blossoms in Japan.
The alabaster city of Casablanca I've visited in Morocco,
But I'd rather tour old ghost towns right here in Colorado!
Magnificent Mount Vesuvius I've seen across Naples Bay.
In Holland I've seen windmills and tulips in vast display.
I've seen the swallows returning to San Juan Capistrano.
'Tis more thrilling to see eagles soar the pristine skies of Colorado!
In Bermuda I've lolled upon the beaches of pink sand,
And have viewed the towering Alps of Switzerland.
Mayan ruins I've scampered over in Old Mexico,
But I'd rather explore the ruins of Mesa Verde in Colorado!
I've climbed the Tower of Pisa rewarded with a view divine,
And visited the quaint Principality of Liechtenstein.
Some folks strive for a lifetime seeking their El Dorado.
I've found mine right here in Colorful Colorado!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 4 Tracie's " Where in the World..." Contest - Dec 2011
1. Betrayal builds up with great energy
winning my man
comes with a heavy bill of cost.
The third, trying to make us two unhitched
brings out thunderous evil from a Timpani
coveting from a loved one
makes her a dipsomaniac
and not even the threat of a deadly flashpoint
will give this heavily envious heart
a strong reprimand.
Chorus
When he first came, she was the best friend
when he kissed me, she was still a friend
him shaking hands, made her our friend
too lil too late now, as I’m the friend.
2. Friend of a friend
but one heart has been scammed
a serenity watered by amity
but elsewhere loyalty works in locum.
Her good support of me was spaced aged
to make my man a heartless wrong doer.
The three now in a jackboot
is worse than a plaque.
The steam of her itchy romance
burns his instincts of adventure
to get some back door pleasures.
Chorus
When he first came, she was the best friend
when he kissed me, she was still a friend
him shaking hands, made her our friend
too lil too late now, as I’m the friend.
3. Noisy is the sound
which first started from an enjoyable bongo
he's a commoner you can pick with a coin
from a one-armed bandit
a ‘whore’ is a worthy appellation for her
my weeping heart from this divide
chunks out hatred on them
but unknown to me
in the city of love, their union
has turned out to be a principality.
Bridge x 4
You embrace me, holding her waist by the side
your mouth speaks as your heart looks the other side.
Chorus
When he first came, she was the best friend
when he kissed me, she was still a friend
him shaking hands, made her our friend
too lil too late now, as I’m the friend.
Virtues are more than they appear to be.
Ripples of connectivity.
Something switched on with the light?
A companion, manual, override.
Especially when storm clouds rear- appear to ruin the blue skies'-
But not like a knife,
that cuts the whole in holes,
of possibility.
Like procedural shears.
Is it Godless or Goddess ambrosia?
A poultice tea for the sick?
A placebo innoculation against lack of faith?
Selfishness in self paranoia,
Just for your sake.
A dark principality and clever mind-
Vampirism-Medicating prophylactively against
the stake, like an aneurism.
Those pesky ghosts of darkness.
In the blood.
Possess your sconces, flame, dead.
After it burns your wick at both ends.
Seek to destroy, the lightbringing.
Your senses dampened,
fuse blown
guard down.
Darkness.
On the Rampage.
Rampant.
Their Entrance.
Gained instead.
your abode,
not yet
accepting the gift of Life ?
lone
you abide,
Crashing the rifts,
Is this right?
Do YOU still not believe?
YOU are a (A still born-unborn,)
that be's -
the one that grieves?
A loss.
Of integrity?
Keeps an eye on the prize.
Under the storm of seize.
The Gate Keeper with beauty under wing.
Keep an eye for.
The Ace up the sleeve.
--------
No strings attached, divorce yourself from responsibility, integrity.
Lies.
Faithful predictability?
No connectivity. No breath or girth
No cosmic sister. No brother.
Accident of birth, No love or family or anything home team.
Insignificant things or other?
Life, just random, little, quirks?
The illusion filament.
An antibody to judgment,
Ultimately, to be or not to be
sedated
by needs?
Deflated by deeds
Unplanted seed.
A Dawn to share.
Unborn fruit to bare.
No fear.
He IS near.
Integrity is there,
a silver lining that adds true colors hue
against the black and white.
The false and the true.
Out of the blue.
Something that makes Avalon appear in the misty near.
Clearly.
A magic against the shade of Night.
A cloak and warmth to pull tight.
Peace of mind.
I say piece of soul.
That is never changing.
Someone to be connected to is
happiness, an insurance policy against a reason to be.
He's a common man
A man on a mission
Not to cause commotion
But to give liberation
He lives a simple life
Because he got integrity
Fighting against principality
Even when he owns no property.
He's a common man
He's always teaching not preaching
Saying man is the life of lives
Unity is not uniformity
We all got our paths
The reason we emerge
Striving and thriving until we depart.
He's a common man
The commissioner of good vibes
Never take bribes
Even if you're his tribe
He's no that type
This is not a hype
He always says;
Variety is the spice of life
Don't you ever disparage anyone.
presently, the patch of an eye, one seeing,
the other believing; and the bite of a bunny
above a lip - such a dangerous deliverance.
presently, the Winter witch, pricks fingers,
which crack and throb, like patches of ice.
cream assuages the pain of little things.
presently, the stomach inhales, bales on
sweets and salts, assaults rabbit food.
thoughts do not linger; the word of God,
fingered, pondered, treasured, measured.
presently, a limp, no leap, pillow-high, ice
is nigh; yet the soul roams to and fro through
corridors; shadows lick the empty rooms.
presently, a bucket of rain, like a trick,
as soon as door is opened, it will splash
with sandwiches of turkey and ham.
presently, lingers the taste of cream
and coffee; the pause of four blue boxes -
of outhouse cubicles; morning silence.
presently, ticked off book after book - the fast,
the vainglorious, the betas, the unexpected bio.
presently, weighing the importance of time spent -
we must waste some of it, be amused, but up
our sleeves, we must have goals. They hurt
the mind, the chest - the needful nettling.
The dig for dinosaur bones; shedding of fat;
the rising, punching, and springing back
of an offering and sacrifice, willing and able.
presently, a silent war, yet it roars and stares,
cruelly divides, hinders closeness, with
rave reviews. it must refuse to speak, to avoid
a six feet deep spike; a cross, not garlic, keeps
at bay, the monsters of principality.
presently, at peace, harbor no ill will,
keep a lock on lips, needful, not subtle.
knees at ninety degrees. love cannot
ignore the issues, but solves the problems
with open and closed eyes; casts cares
at the Lord’s feet, for His know how.
presently, expounding, perspiring chills, reciting
and writing poetry. family tree will be fine.
No principality shall stand,
for God is ruler of this land.
Lord help us root for all that's right,
as we wrestle, each day and night.
Humble thyself before the Lord,
lay down your weapons at thy door.
Put on the whole armour of God,
stand firm in Christ, against all odds.
Buckle thy belt upon thy waist,
it shall be truth, that you sayeth.
Place thy great, righteous breastplate on,
and shoes of peace to walk there-on
Pick up thy shield of faith with pride,
boast only in the Lord, our guide.
Take Salvation's helmet of hope,
and Spirit's sword, the Word of love.
And now complete with armour on,
go forth my friends, disciple on!
And have no fear, be not dismayed,
for Jesus Christ, our ransom paid.
02.28.2024
Just?
look, at YOU now, self righteous, you know YOUR rites best.
You have much to celebrate.
Celebrate diversity, the joy of
sex in the city.
Make it,
YOU, at your behest,
the center of your Universe.
Where only a black hole resides, and your own worst enemy?
Hyde's.
It's not lonely there.
There's
YOU!
That's all right dearest.
Party like it's 2 0 1 9.
After all, everything you have and are is because of being free and solitary.
To thine own self be true!
A self propogating gene of Genie
Is only rubbed out when it's convenient for YOU.
Live like a con-gypsy
under Gaias loving gaze of nativity.
As you sweep the wind beneath your wings and batten down the sails,
a treasure hunting pirate on life's seven seas'swells.
Through the river Styx,
Flotsam, Jetsam
mental living, Hell?
Some things are meant to be.
Like milk and honey.
But not according to "do what thou will"
It is a suicide into lonely.
Drunkenness into endless sleep.
Although, they call the new aged Kool Aid,
harmless wine.
I see,
that it matches fine;
with neurosis,
scerosis of inclusion,
invader intrusion, plucked from narcissistic vines. Tended by demon.
From the Forest of delusion.
Pairs well with the thorns of Night.
Take a sip of that self hypnosis.
Does it go down smooth? Or does it have a kick?
Then kick your **** on down the line.
Off your booth, in Life.
Ritually drunk and now, suddenly divine at your own behest.
A little bit of courage, right?
Something to take the edge off,
the edge of night?
Regret.
Sugar on the brain that foments its fermentation over time.
Is it Godless or Goddess ambrosia?
A poultice tea for the sick?
A placebo innoculation against lack of faith?
Selfishness in self paranoia,
Just for your sake.
A dark principality and clever mind-
Vampirism-Medicating prophylactively against
the stake, like an aneurism.
Those pesky ghosts of darkness.
In the blood.
Possess your sconces, wick and flame, dead.
Seek to destroy, the lightbringing.
Your senses dampened,
fuse blown
guard down.
Darkness.
Integrity bled.
On the Rampage.
Rampant.
Their Entrance.
Gained instead.
The height of science and the width of commerce
in my dwelling place they merge
with the ambassadors of understanding
giving me their pledge.
Capturing the seat of the wise
and sitting over it,
covering its edge
as I wear the garment of knowledge.
So what's next?
My hands are filled with gold
My pockets, heavy with silver
these make me the Diamond myths
and the greatest team player
to financial strength.
I've been owned and followed
and my shadow, replaced with good health
as I'm possessed and romanced
by wealth.
So what's next?
Occurrences and happenings, I'm the doer
Planting the seed of what's to happen next,
like a sower
with all authorities and rulership
placed lower
is the extent of my unbelievable power.
so what's next?
Acquiring all possible knowledge
accumulating unbelievable possessions
and becoming the greatest principality
the world has ever known
without positively touching a life
and making a soul smile
is going through a clothing store naked
and coming out naked
with everything in the world just strings.
So what's next?
DEATH!
Leaving behind all the attachments
as they drop in command of hades
vanity upon vanity;
all is vanity.
Lighter is its economy, floats slower than a feather,
wasting resources, capable of becoming marketable leather,
pollutes the air for citizens to suffer bad weather,
expecting Yams from planting the seedlings of Onions,
results to failure regardless of any opinion.
A marriage, dangerous to the spouses’ sexualities
and then the tussle for who’s the next principality
without any regard to God and to humanity
only sustains the fire of a bitter union,
a truth accepted by, not just my opinion.
The masses pay with all they’ve got in one offering,
yet are used as unnecessary sacrifices to continue suffering
but the best they can do is just to keep baffling
on whose tribe or religion should take dominion,
smiling in affliction is foolishness, in my opinion.
Reduced to nothing for poverty to place its stickers
Sycophants emerging from most of all its thinkers
a once courageous Cat, now has lost its whiskers
becoming a laughing stock in its international communion
oh, this is a bitter fact and not just an opinion.
A country on barefoot, not even on slippers
encouraging ethnic robbers to be its Gate Keepers,
rights deprived of its meals, even mere supper,
mercenaries romanced as government companions.
Nigeria is already doomed, that’s my strong opinion.
Published: 6/24/2020
For the Opinion Poetry Contest
sponsored by Kai Michael Neumann
Position: 5th place [6/29/2020]