Long Purveyors Poems

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THE TWILIGHT OF SPECTATORS

When I lift my eyes, the sky offers no stars,
only missiles parading with arrogance.

Before me, mountains of corpses rise,
my pupils dilated by human savagery.

Humanity has been consuming itself for millennia,
and I bear the guilt of all those cowards
who watch peoples fade away
behind screens, instructing the purveyors of war.

I arrived in this macabre dimension
like so many innocents cut down by bombs.

The Earth groans under the assaults of unbalanced men,
who plunder its entrails,
who sow hatred, death, and chaos
since time immemorial.

The oceans vomit waves of cadavers,
the hurricanes carry the scent of desolation and fear.

Nations crumble beneath the laughter of tyrants,
and children, bare-handed, learn to count
the bodies falling into the mud of oblivion.

I walk amidst these ruins,
listening to the groaning of stones,
a powerless witness to the unchained pride of men.

Crushed hearts weep for their torn roots,
death swallows secrets that no one tells,
and the sky has become nothing but a theater of fire and iron.

In this open-air junkyard,
the sparks of love persist, stubbornly burning,
like a breath even death cannot smother.


Premium Member Noel 2020

the end nears with Jesus and witches

let us hope there are no more glitches

little baby wears a mask in the manger

conceived socially distant without danger

no Golgotha crowd but liked tweeted clips

zoom calls for blurring out the Lords hips

immaculate censorship under lockdown

Amazon send the Saviour a virtual crown

due to panic buying there is no shortfall

of hygienic wipes for disinfecting our wall

by divine fortune rusty nails are also on offer

only the blood of Christ is scarce to proffer

Netflix shows reruns of a sound-bitten tale

a broker insists Christmas must be for sale

Wall Street continues with arms as a treasure

delivers lost lives and legs for good measure

conspiracy theorists say the Messiah was real

Wikileaks concurs but is brought to heel

by purveyors of halos spiked rosaries and zeal

as smoke cries for free ashes for dispersal

on graves boneyards and rotten rehearsal

a cat pees on the tree and needs to be spayed

Sigmund Freud calls for complex castration

of subconscious death wishes and propagation

in need for seeds to be neutered for creation

reality caves in and we must remove the stone

together we’re united Sisyphus is never alone

video calls remind us that the virus lives on

crosses borders without passports to and from

no visa required no customs only free trade

for hypocrisy bigotry Egos not easily slayed

what I would give for rewinding the legend

and attend carol singing and school’s pageant

in person not be stuck with oversized meals

walk freely to food banks attempting to heal

falsity ingratitude injustice entitlement schism 

the infant itself may not be above criticism

but glitter and presents wrapped in blindness

are no substitute for love and true kindness

compassion does not require an opulent mall

no masses no pining nor spruce ever so tall

It’s time for reflection faith reason emotion

not notional piety and once yearly devotion

for Christ’s sake let’s stop moaning and start

to share from a warm and good-natured heart  


24th December 2020
Form: Rhyme

Ancient Aliens

Ancient aliens rise
 from sandy caves and rifts 
 lay open hidden truths and gifts
in revealing their demise.

The possibilities of Jupiter and Mars arrival
 hint that we are the civilizations continued survival.

Those secrets that lay beneath the surf
 were purposely well hidden in the dirt of earth.

Revealed through recovered and deciphered texts and script
 the purveyors of modern day interpreted manuscripts,
speak a language of the past unfastened
 while today slips easily away not lasting, ever passing.

Perhaps it is only what is left of us
 and we have lived before upon this enduring crust. 

Who will remain in the futures soon to be past
 to relay the truth of who we are and what we cast?

Ancient aliens rise once more
 and tell 
 the story well 
of who we were.
© DM Babbit  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member An Evening of Social Justice

An evening of social justice
paid for by the “alleged” perpetrators
of the grand injustice.
What cads, these bastards
of the billions, usurpers of
our “common” wealth,
cream skimming purveyors
of the entrepreneurial spirit.

“They did not build it alone!”
No, they did not.  They built it –
first in their minds imagination,
fashioned into a dream,
molded into a plan
hammered by determination.
Brick by brick, stick by stick,
thread by thread,
hour by endless hour.

And now the bread is made.
Now they come - the naysayers,
the doubters, the mockers,
in the guise of “social sainthood”,
to tear down the success,
condemn the economics
regarding the slicing of the loaf.

“The laborers may be worthy of their hire”*
but The Little Red Hen* runs the kitchen.


3/29/2018

*paraphrased biblical quotation

**1950’s(?) childrens book (The Little Red Hen)

submitted to – social justice free verse – Poetry Contest
sponsor – John Hamilton

Premium Member Thoughts Upon Seeing Dora Maar with Green Nails

She sits in judgement of the unseen otherness 
of a moment passed yet frozen
for us purveyors of skin deep beauty,
perhaps we seek a measure of our own trauma. 

All his portraits of me are lies. They're all Picassos. Not one is Dora Maar.*

Sixty portraits of me
and each is a projection of you,
what you need, what you see~
and not one of me is real.

Sight
bright, clear 
seeing, knowing, becoming
love, beauty, ugly, hate
knowing, raging, fading, dying
blind!


* Dora Maar quoted by Amy Crawford. "A Look Back at the Artist Dora Maar". Smithsonian Magazine.
art
Form: Ekphrasis


Premium Member Lusting For Love

Lust has such a bad press

          one of the seven deadly sins

                    of course people die in bed

                             but they may as well be happy

                                       when it is indeed the grim reaper

                                                who is greedy and gluttonous 


                    L Lush divine coupling

                    U Underwear on the floor

                    S Senses on naked skin

                    H Heaven and pleasure


                                                  yearning for joyful release

                                        desire and sexual yearning

                              passion coveting and craving

                    to be totally one with an other

          petite mort rebirth of devotion

culmination of living and Love


                                      L Lavender fragrance
                             
                                      O Olives’s tender juice

                                      V Void of conception

                                      E Engulfing sweet fire


foreplay and imagination

          creative positioning

                    climax crescendo

                               an altar of union

                                         satisfied longing

                                                   culmination of life


H Hailed be our fun

Y Yielding restraint

P Piety discarded

O Ovations unfold

C Crisp tenderness

R Rivulets of flow

I  Indigo Kama Sutra

S Sex at its best

Y Yardstick coupling


you hypocritical purveyors of sin

          heretic lowbrow Philistine oafs

                              minds loin clothed in denial

                                       cross eyed spoil sports 

                                                 probably don’t get enough

                                                         and envy my rapture


02nd July 2020

Premium Member Forever the Square Peg

Forever the square peg
seeking entry into the round hole,
the smart kid pushing
when the sign says “Pull”.
wandering in the midst
of the hurried,
a dreamer adrift among
those who think themselves awake.
Viewing through the unfiltering eye
of betrayal, the betrayers,
spiritual “Madoffs”
pontificating Ponzi schemes,
promising fulfillment -
for themselves.
Square pegs do not “roll”
through life, varying
speed to meet conditions
they are more suited 
to building, stability,
strength, stoicism.
They often appear lost,
disconnected from, apart
and yet “a part of”,
yet somehow lost
in the “wall-less” box
of the seeking mime,
captured in the swirling
eddy of the twisting flow,
contentedly discontent
purveyors of optional
disillusionments.  Lost
in the mediocrity of 
the moment, lingering
in the rippling foam
of a receding tide.
Wandering Frost’s
“road less traveled”
rejoicing in the touch
of a snowflake, the joy
of a sunflower, the edginess
of a square peg
forever lost.

John G. Lawless
2/5/2016

Generic Germane Guy Wallows In Weltschmerz

Along luscious green acres banks steep grade
(in close proximity to 
Petticoat Junction) naturemade
Perkiomen Valley watershed,
verdant landscape displayed
yours truly, (a garden variety
proto human) arrayed

solely donning birthday suit,
whose fifty plus shades hair gone grayed,
i.e. one infinitesimal measly mortal
whiles away hours, laid
back days of his life as
the world wide web turns
comprising second decade
of twenty first century

civilization, where
coronavirus veritably waylaid
furlough afflicts populations feeling betrayed
entire fabric *****sapiens staid
threadbare existence now best describes
chock full of endemic ennui proliferates,
where vast majority of people afraid

to leave their houses lest COVID-19 played
greater havoc, whereby society already upended
unemployment factor at record high since...
Great depression witnessed
courtesy somber parade,
eighty nine years ago benchmarked
from May 11, 2020,

an invisible oppressed heaviness weighed
down the madding crowds
aghast how stock market trade
hit rock bottom making paupers,
ill fate clobbered breadwinners
circumstance none could evade
October 29, 1929 haint no charade,

when Black Tuesday hit Wall Street
bitta bing bitta bang bitta played
bitty bitty chitty chitty bang bang
linkedin with irrational exuberance portrayed
American economy supine splayed
versus March 11, 2020 characterized
coronavirus outbreak as pandemic

by the WHO subsequently signaling
Trump cited "fake news" and not dismayed
to expedite drastic measures
none would impede golf, nor Mar-a-Lago
leisure him sipping lemonade
acid test teetotaler - tee zing 'bout 
not quaffing electric kool-aid
without getting his doggy dimples in a bunch

he grudgingly complied and obeyed
purveyors (governors) and Anthony Fauci
complete United States government shutdown
approximately mid/late March 2020
which undertaking generated brisk business
grim reaper experienced
(still does) protracted heyday.

Premium Member Admirable People

alone inside with me, less than inspirational

  so look out for the more interesting folk

  momentary excitement, the fiery motivational

  beyond the familiar, to stoke and provoke

  daydream departure from mundane conversational

  adventures cocooned in my warm cosy cloak


  cool charismatic characters, charming skills to admire

  the wily wheelers, the dubious dealers

  the mighty movers, the shuffling shakers, to these I aspire

  delvers of science, the body-mind healers

  frisky purveyors of seduction spray fuel to the fire

  risky game chancers, the common sense stealers


  suspenders of disbelief, poetic weavers of word

  jovial jugglers of juxtaposition

  addicted acquisitors, spinners shifting the absurd

  fabulous fakers, deceptive magician

  image presenters, dark or backlit, focused or blurred

  sculptors of form, instrumental musician


  composers of melody, glorious singers of song

  whatever the stage, great performers of art

  athletic achievers stretching stubbornly strong

  rhythmic dynamo dancers moving close or apart

  food-feeding salivators, their tasty pleasures prolong

  delightful set dishes or delicious a la carte


  whether imbibed on its own or in good company enjoyed

  the brewer, the vintner, the masters of malt

  innovative designers, architects of structure and void

  the philosopher's stone, comfort-zone assault

  insightful free thinkers, long-held paradigms destroyed

  tall storytelling teachers without fear of fault


  mathematical manipulators of numbers and code

  quantum diving or high-flying to the stars

  engineering fabricators, tunnel, bridge, rail and road

  crazy drivers and loop-turning avatars

  tinkering technicians, ecologists with wisdom bestowed

  planners of protest, the remover of scars


  inspirational givers, those with just the skill of their bent

  empathy crossing over to be by your side

  the meek, the afflicted, those who can ill-afford the rent

  the refugee fleer from our wars worldwide

  safety seekers, brave rational people with lives to augment

  as we build indifferent walls... hope denied!
© Ian Love  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Verse

Premium Member The Silk Demon

These people make me sick 
These false prophets
These religious money pits 
These well dressed demons of deception 
Nothing but
Con artists
Liars 
Purveyors of pure sacrilege
Pretending to offer you salvation 
Offering you the comfort of the lord 
For a price 
Selling you a seat in heaven 
The more you pay the better your accommodations
Religious travel agents
Without their blessing 
You’re doomed to be left behind 
You wont get into heaven 
Without your donation 

I myself believe in religion 
Support all religions 
They may be different in their views and customs 
But the end goal is all the same 
Eternal peace 

But these people are different 
They to, 
Want peace… 
Your piece 
My piece 
And anyone else’s piece they can get 
Their goal is simple 

Fleece the flock 
Sell them promise 
Sell them an eternal ticket 
Guarantee them eternal bliss 
For a price 

Sell them anointed hankies
And blessed books 
Promise them wonderful lives
With their religious looks 

They are the one-armed bandits of the new age 
With a bible in one hand and a credit card machine in the other 

We take Visa, MasterCard, American Express and Discover  
But no checks please 
We need your “prayer” right now 
Not in 7-10 days 

These people make me sick 
There are so many of them 
Saying they represent God 

Flashing 800 numbers 
Requesting your “prayers” 
Which will only be “answered” 
As long as credit card is valid 

Are people that dumb?
I mean really that naïve?
Do they really believe? 
The cheap suits 
Silk ties 
And piss poor acting of sincerity and caring
Do they not see the obvious? 
Are they truly blind? 
Do they want to be spiritually slaughtered? 

Do they not remember the one very important rule?

You never have to pay to pray!

All God has ever asked of anyone is their faith 
Time, is your most valuable asset
It is what you have the least of in life 

And this is what you pay to God 
Your time devoted to him and your faith in him 

Wake up, before it’s to late 
You don’t have much time left 
Spend it wisely 
Spend it on God 

Eric (and sometimes not)
© Eric Nolan  Create an image from this poem.

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