Long Prologue Poems
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Prologue:
A new kid joins an already troubled elementary school
He sits alone on the first day, and no one dares to sit next to him
For if they dared, their social status would be reduced to a pile of rubble.
For a while everyone just left this kid alone, and no one dared to figure out the root cause of his absentmindedness.
Not the teachers, Not even the parents
Over time whenever the kid tried to speak his truth he was denied by his classmates
Denied by his teachers
Denied by everyone
So like many others he gave up fighting an already corrupted system in which he was shoved in.
He did as he was told,
Until he couldn’t take it anymore
And ran away.
But he would come back, for those who have wronged him.
No, even bigger.
He would come for the system.
An Elegy about a School Shooting
If you can, imagine elementary school kids just walking in their school hallways
The birds were chirping,
The sun was shining
And all it took was a gunshot
A student falls to the ground and chaos ensues
People are screaming fleeing the building
One, two, more children fall to the floor
All it took was 20 minutes and so many lives were lost
The children that survived will never be the same
Trauma, PTSD, Depression
And the families of those who died will be forever in grief
Grief because of their loved one and the life they could’ve lived
But like everything, nothing is permanent in this world
So take a moment of silence and envision the state of a glorious elementary school
Before the chaos, before the fire
Now envision the same elementary school with blood on the windows, all over the floor, bullet holes in classroom doors, shattered glass.
But as I said, nothing is permanent, and so I come to terms with the anger inside of me, wanting to do something about our corrupt world.
But as hard as it is, chaos is needed for change, A flower doesn’t grow unless it’s watered.
Oh how badly I wish people would work to save lives
Instead of demolishing innocent ones
Demolishing futures
Demolishing any chance of contribution to our society
Demolishing any chance of hope
Demolishing loved ones.
Gus got all of those who were allowed to attend
and "available" settled in around his big oak table.
He even put in an extra leaf to accomodate,
so there was enough space to keep from
slap fights and infighting of kin. He handed out
charmingly and diplomatically, the swami hats each containing an indian feather and a bedazzle kit- stone standard. He didn't have time to personalize
a moniker, this would have to do in a pinch.
Speaking of pinching weiners, Gus had to go to the bathroom, and was potty dancing and squinching,
this whole seance thing and having the floor for
everyone's attention was getting him excited.
On his way to the bathroom, he noticed Silky had
already fashioned his into a pimp hat,
cocked to the side as he slapped Penney for good measure to help break the hat in.
Penney fashioned hers into a pirate hat and shot Silky a look of smug mutiny. Kenny was too busy dealing
Vatican 2 pedopriest some product to personalize his for the moment. Gus pulled the hat from LizPiggo's
mouth and made his way, forgetting he locked
Nancy and Chuck in there and took a two story wiz
out the window. What a story! they were embarking
on indeed, was all he could think about,
except for the fact that he couldn't use the kitchen
sink because he couldn't find his step stool and
the arc of his stream no matter how proficient his trajectory would go all over the floor on re entry
unless he jumped toward the sink in the final throes.
He remembered what happened last time.
Wet floors and jumping were a wicked mix.
After he heard the voices seemingly coming from somewhere close "out there", he shook
the distraction off
and resolved to get back in there and get this seance underway. The spirits needed him !...
Form:
PROLOGUE
The Flame, aflicker, licks and flays,
illuming evening’s negligees
With braided curls she swirls and sways,
and flits and floats in light ballets
APOLOGUE
A Flame, to conquer creeping fog,
flew dancing towards a random log
Her flight perplexed a leery frog
beside a silent somber bog
The Flame, a ripple, all alone
alit on leaves where birds had flown
The aching twigs began to moan
A rising breeze began to groan
The Flame arrayed an ancient oak
with torrid tongues and veils of smoke
A beaver bailed, the dam had broke
The leery frog soon ceased to croak
The Flame uncoiled and lashed midair,
consuming crowns with utmost care
A crazed coyote fled her lair,
left in the lurch bewildered bear
The Flame, unfurled, went wild and grew,
enkindled cats and caribou
Remaining... not a residue,
as reeking vapors bade adieu
The Flame revealed her strength unshackled
Flora, fauna crisped and crackled
Fire Witches clucked and cackled
One more forest stripped, then hackled
EPILOGUE
The arsonists were well aware
the Flame would travel everywhere
The weirs are gone, the land is bare,
and soon you’ll find a city there
Stillness
sheathed my need,
a gentle sheen
glistened your chest,
and my hands
yearned to reach
sliding my fingers
over your length.
But you beat me
with strokes on
the embonpoint,
tracing my navel
with the tips,
brushing my thighs
with your lips.
A rise of emotion
embodied my fervor
and flowed to surge,
as my mouth dried
limbs began to shake
this was the beginning
of a body quake
An arrow of want
pierced my inner core
I bowed in union,
riding its shaft
I slid into euphoria
with a gentle lift
And all this
was a preamble
the body of its story
has yet to come.
Then she French kissed LizPiggo and publicly scolded the young Chinese server for not making extra sale?
The young lady scribbled her phone number on
napkin and gave it to Gus looking over her shoulder
to the old hag seeming approval. Along with phone number it read, HELP!
Gus thought to himself, maybe the spirits were
speaking through this girl, wanting the help
only he could provide. He winked a James Bond
kind of wink and strolled out like he swallowed
one of his grandmother's pills.
Which he went ahead and did.
The ride one block to home was arduous.
Both stomachs full. LizPiggo was wailing
from inside the backpack. I have to shiiiit!
She whined. Oooo the backpack isn't big enough,
she explained, as a warning. Gus examined the
sturdy zipper and his options, he only had a pair of binoculars for peeping on the neighbor lady in
there which would be easy to clean.
He set his mind on greater things. He needed to do a seance!
Gus stood there in his urine and realized two things,
number one he was already hungry again and two
that LizPiggo ate the leftovers. And three,
"I can't have a seance on an empty stomach.
That's how people become possessed!
Not gonna happen. Not to this guy!"
Gus had been meaning to try the other Chinese
restaurant down the street. This would be the perfect opportunity. He was somewhat not filthy, so he
wouldn't have to bathe. He stole 50 dollars from his
Great Aunt's purse, for just such an occasion.
It was like destiny or something. Gus imagined all the possibilities on the way. On how things were lining up for him in a non coincidental manner. First the hunger, somewhat not filthiness, then the money.
It seemed fate had waited long enough. Would this
be the day he transformed? He didn't know.
It certainly appeared that way. He looked around from the corners of his eyes, to soak in the day's possible
signs. Non chalantly, so as not to seem like he was begging for the powers that be, to crown him.
Once and for all!
Before long Gus had chained his bike 15 times
around the golden dragon that harbinged the
storefront and he made his way inside cautiously
expecting a hag ninja to spring out of a planter
or bench or maybe, there she was directly behind
him with a scale to weigh him and his pockets !....
Dead Man’s Prologue
Apologies I can’t be with you all,
I was un-expectantly called away.
Without prior notice or warning,
Urgent meeting with overnight stay.
Thank you for a marvelous turn out,
Deeply honoured, feeling so proud.
Enjoy my life in raucous celebration,
Remembrance of joy, happy crowd.
Surprisingly I made it to Heaven,
To be honest, It’s not bad up here.
We have Wi-Fi and all mod cons,
Even a fridge stocked with cold beer.
Time now to end this broadcast,
Losing connection dear family & friends.
So grateful for the times we shared,
Goodbye now as my mortal life ends.
dear readers
let me be an invitee to read these files
about the same place where you live but
chose to live in complete denial
don't be a traitor, don't ignore the cries
this place gave you oxygen, water, air and
every source meant for your survival
even in the adversity of times
dear readers
our house is on fire, the ice is melting
you're breathing smoke, and million species at risk
and each day a new revelation in these files
the man who drink champagne after
signing deals that harm your land
he lives in a palace built by his greed
while the future generations search for their place
As a young avid reader
I always read the Introduction or Prologue,
when offered,
to see if this treatise overture
would take me some place I cared to wade through.
As an old avid reader
I always begin with the last chapter
because I may not otherwise have time to get there
Here I listen to learn if it might transport me
to some place I care about and believe in
and might even faithfully hope for
A place I have not yet been
promising a pause
wondering where I might be now
had I only visited earlier.
Biographies are especially telling
as the end where history has brought each writer
to remember what these reassembled lives and thoughts
have felt together
Now replete
unfolded
for all to see and rediscover
how extremes of final stages,
like commencement of embryonic birth,
then infant interests,
seem to land as we began
Withdrawn from adolescent fuss
and middle-aging blunder,
both respectability and revolutionary thunder
So good in our coming to,
and escape from, ripe time
now echoing warnings to intend
to start and end
each new narrative's last chapter first.
I might not have sufficient time
to invest in earlier stages of this story's redevelopment,
especially if the last chapter doesn't resound
at least as health wealthy as my own
last day and night so far
Which I probably should plan
to finish writing soon.
A tender discourse of artistic thoughts
Ambles my mind searching for prologue
Aiming to become a poetic dialogue,
Striving for words that elicit a response.
And you enter with an aiding portrayal
Letting my words live and breathe,
To evolve into lines of synchronic rhythm
And emanate sounds of lyrical music.
And you tell me words must be set free
To hear as I hear, and feel as I do:
Joy of romance or sorrow of heartbreak,
Elation of birth, or anguish of death.
Words set free weave a cohesive likeness
Choosing a dawn or night of darkness,
Painting a world full of cheer or fear
Upon shiny meadows or wispy pastures.
Shedding limitations of form and syllables,
Guided only by poetic aspirations
You awaken me with a wondrous theme,
You think so big, poem of my dream!
October 27, 2017
Placed first in standard contest #138 by Brian Strand
An international battlefield was scheduled this year
Postponed due to an invisible fear
A misunderstood sensitive diplomatic situation
Displaying theatrical health care patients
Put off an artistic war
Where the death toll is replaced by a game score
As we interpret what really happened
Hopefully continuing peaceful dialogue with Japan
Remember when things were just all right
Written prologue not aware of a global viral fight
Qualifications had begun
Being an athletic sample seemed entrepreneur and fun
But word got out
Things were cancelled without any doubt
Soon a decision was made
Before educators were able to hand out final grades
Dr. Godzilla put its foot down
Destroying every sporting peaceful village, city and town
Colorful rings will not be interlocking
Timers stopped their clocking
No one will be handled a medal
Apparently this mass hysteria has its foot on the pedal
For the first time
There will be a mature odd number on the promotional line
As a substitute representation
Confirming the biological weapon war who is facing
Based on resentment
Challenging trusting encampment
Is there a wide world message lurking around?
Waiting for a sponsor to be picked up, discovered and found
Planned right
Olympics will light
A torch real bright
Translating the reminder killing does not solve the problem
Of I got them
Instead positive conversation is when
To stop something before a wrong button is pressed send