Long Royal court Poems
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POLLY WANT A CRACKER??
…and so they play
political musical chairs
uncostumed clowns
scampering about
like children,
pushing and shoving
accusing all
of acting like them.
Passing electronic notes
for all to see
while accusing others
of “leaking” information.
Feigning indignation
at the behavior
of their adversaries,
grandstanding before
a shepherdless congress,
Milling about the political
dog park sniffing and barking
leaving a mess for others
to clean up after them.
Pointing fingers and questioning
all but themselves,
entrenched in the idiocy
of egotism’s swamp.
Removed from the realm
of reality’s wretchedness
they sashay about throwing
other peoples coins
into the wishing wells
of beggar’s dreams.
They dine within hearing
of the rumbling bellies
of the hungry, the shuffling
footsteps of the homeless,
the emptiness of the addicts
desperation, discussing “programs”
and “initiatives”, form “committees”
to “study” the “problem”.
The nation is on the operating table
and they, the “doctors”
will walk out of the “operating” room
for a six week “recess”.
Most of those they claim
to represent haven’t had “recess”
since the fourth grade.
And “We the people”
put up with it,
are responsible for it
for we have become
a mindless rabble
clawing at each other
fighting over the table scraps
thankful for a band-aid
waiting to catch a glimpse
of the “Royal Court” and its
niggardly“ courtesans.
7/31/2017
submitted to – POLLY IN POLITICS – Poetry Contest
A holy letter written by
Abgarus the toparch of Edessa
To Bardaisan the passerby
Sent to him by Keefa the confessor
“Abgarus VIII the toparch writing
To Bardaisan, offspring of the dancing river
Son of Nah 'siram and my friend, greeting
I have heard reports of the baptised lamb’s power
Which makes the eyeless see, the lame to walk
Which makes lepers clean, and casts out lion-daimons
Which even makes the dead alive and talk
This faithful power exceeds so-called eudaemons
Indeed, I now believe in Christ Jesus
The saviour of all, who is either God himself
Who came down from the heavens above us
Or the Son of God sent down to save mankind’s self
I am in need of holy instruction
In all these high and heavenly matters of faith
I know from my old life of perdition
In this world which the dark dragon haunts like a wraith
Of your deeds that raised the public-spirit
The healings you performed, the sacred works you wrote
You are the harp of the holy spirit
The archer against daimons, cutting every throat
Therefore, I invite you to the banquet
In order to illuminate my mind with truth
In order to seal my soul’s empty pit
Over my household and kingdom, I have much ruth
I have a little kingdom that Rome will repress
But I will welcome you as Christ welcomed the dove: With comeliness”
(I've based this letter on the ancient Letter of King Abgar V to Jesus (public domain). Though that letter was a third century work, it was likely caused by Abgar VIII of Osroene conversion to Christianity by the Gnostic Bardaisan in 200 AD, Bardaisan was even part of Abgar's royal court.
I thought it would a fun idea to remake the letter to be correspodence between Abgar VIII and Gnostic Bardaisan instead, as it would be closer to what likely historically happened.)
(a very old poem poem written as an adolescent)
To everyone who sees this,
They are commanded to chant
"Hinahiboaola" in the most
Gracious and humble
Manner you can
At that present time.
That is an order from Hina
Nasroalaba Soooaoieeee
And his Royal Court.
If you decide to act on his critical command in a negative way,
You shall be thrashed with big squishy lima beans, and will be called a "Bohemian purple ostrich" by our Deedeeouieeee Royal Guards
Then you shall simply be dragged away to our dungeon
Where you can only have stale beer and grandmother's 200
Year old chocolate screaming rat pies
all day long.
Then,
At late evening,
You shall be commanded to
Disgustingly
Throw-up
Everything you were commanded to eat earlier.
If you decide to chant this royal chant
You shall be happily commanded to do
Everything I said to do if you didn't chant it
But you'll do it
Backwards,
Wit a one-legged yellow baboon
Called Booboocox.
Ordered by your
Royal Court of Humukakaland.
Signed,
King Masabalabasooooooieeee
(King Matt for short)
Did all the world see the brightest star?
Only a handful knew they could follow it.
The Shepherds leaned in, hearkened to angels.
The wise men seeking, followed the leading.
They had to humble themselves to an infant
in a drinking trough of a stable.
They experienced the extraordinary and believed
in the poorest setting, while the high rollers
of Bethlehem danced and played their flutes.
Isn’t it the same today?
He invites eternal light.
Those of the narrow way will follow Him.
Heaven will be quite the opposite
of the pittance beginnings,
for the Lord of all
came to redeem mankind from the fall.
King Jesus on His throne,
the red carpet unrolled
for the royal court —
those who chose the narrow path,
not the wide gate of popularity.
Shouldn’t you receive
the greatest gift of all?
Our time on earth is limited.
To infinity and beyond
is where the true party’s at.
The white light of the pearly gates
beckons - do not wait to yearn for them.
It would be too late by then.
12/14/2021
Matthew 7:13
(Jesus said) “Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it.”
Isaiah 35:8
And there will be a highway called the Way of Holiness. The unclean will not travel it--only those who walk in the Way--and fools will not stray onto it.
”The tragic aspect of the situation is that the Tsar is living in an utter fool’s paradise, thinking that He is as strong and all-powerful as before.”
Sergei Witte 1905
“The appearance in [the royal] court of Grigory Rasputin, and the influence he exercised there, mark the beginning of the decay of Russian society and the loss of prestige for the throne and for the person of the Tsar himself.”
Rodzianko, chairman of the Duma
LAMPADNIK (LAMPLIGHTER)
St. Petersburg - Darkness, soon would befall
Nicholas II - Like leaders of his time, misleading God-call
Alexandra - After 4 daughters, birth’d a son to lead
Alexei- Hemophiliac, would make his mother’s heart bleed
Rasputin - Enter the so-called healer, the religious nut
Yusupov - Brought him to the basement, kicked Grigori’s butt
Iced - Poisoned, beat up, shot, definitely drowned
Assassination - Murder of Romanovs, but maybe Anastasia found
Anastasia - Poor little rich Czar’s daughter
Russia - Would the paupers take pity, if they had found her?
2/23/2021
List with a Twist
Sponsor: Charles Messina
*Grigori Rasputin was the lamplighter but he also brought darkness
I was in a perfect gallery,
My journey could have been more weary.
I was on a trip full of unknown necessities,
I collected dirty obscurities.
I used to run the errands,
Massacre was another name for my commands.
I collected your nicknames,
They were too hasty for me to join such games.
I was in a neverland,
Worshipping you was never out of my hands.
I was on the unnamed surface,
Beneath that, you were merely a minimal face.
Your shadow was not justified by your choice,
Neverland was a home to me where you were my only voice.
Your courtesies were sometimes tiresome,
In your royal court, I was nothing but burdensome.
You do not walk on springs,
I long for you, not just because you are a living being!
You were the sole entity in that land,
Without you, it is nothing but a piece of sand!
*Image of Burgmansia Queen Of The Incas.
Sanguinea, Queen Of The Incas
In the lush jungles of constant condensation,
A royal order of an ancient kingdom,
That had ruled from an unknown beginning,
A caste system, whereby, a legacy of femininity,
Ruled over a vast domain, she'd be the Queen,
Known by one name since the start of their governance,
Sanguinea, Queen of all the Inca lands.
Regal and statuesque, donning a regalian dress,
That flowed down the length of her,
Of velvety rubies that drapes in reds.
In her royal court, she is surrounded,
By faces of envious greens that cowers,
Neath the richness of her extensive rule.
She is guarded by an army,
Bearing a powerful tawny armor,
They are a tower of strength that lifts their Queen,
So she can be seen by her doting subjects below.
Sanguinea, Queen of the Incas,
She would lure and entertain her unwary guest,
Her body full of emanating scents beguiles them to ecstasy,
And if she senses danger, she eludes a toxin,
That renders, the once seduced guest,
To be another victim of her passion.
The majestic Queen Sanguinea,
Overlooks her realms expanse,
From her hilltop palaces,
And its courtyard of still filled green faces.
With magnificence and savvy governance of her jungle kingdom,
She bears a formidable presence as she trumpets it, away,
And her magnanimity is without question,
For it is well known throughout and beyond, her wet domain,
For she is, after all, her royal majesty,
Sanguinea, Queen of the Incas.
*Sanguinea, of the aforementioned version--as there are several varieties, is a rather large trumpet red flower that is poisonous. It hangs downward from trees in a Peruvian jungle of South America (as pictured).
2019 May 31
*1st Place*
A STRAND (1074)
~~Brian Strand: Judged 2022 February 15
Through seventy years of change,
Orb and sceptre in your hands,
Serving your people, young and old,
You have reigned over these lands.
To duty called when you were young,
You took the oath in Edwards chair.
The crown sits well upon that head
That doth its precious weight still bear.
A beacon to your people,
To all your commonwealth,
You show us what devotion means
To something beyond self.
Prime ministers and presidents
Have graced your royal court
Charities from every sphere
Your patronage have sought.
A mother and a grandmother,
A loyal and loving wife.
A Queen with whom the nation
Shared the milestones of your life.
You could not give us any more,
You’re an example to us all.
Of the meaning of self sacrifice
That answer”s duty’s call.
You too have suffered pain and loss,
Part of life’s kaleidoscope.
You empathise, you sympathise,
You bring a nation hope.
You’ve led us in remembrance
At war’s sad and bitter loss,
You’ve shed tears at the cenotaph,
For the fallen and the lost.
You truly are respected
By every generation,
For standing by your people,
For fulfilling your vocation.
Not for ourselves alone are we
Born to this life we’re given
You’ve shown us what can be achieved
If we too are truly driven.
You”re our pride and our identity
Loved and held in great respect.
History will remember you
As our beloved “Lillibet.”
We celebrate these seventy years,
Your Platinum Jubilee.
And I, for one, am glad to be,
A subject of your majesty.
In kingdoms known by all the lands
in which the Royal court commands
The celebration must begin
with love found of the hearts within
December rules this favorite time
as hopes build in this winter clime
For as this day is drawing near
They all know Christmas time is here
And as this story’s book reveals
with Royal writs and Royal seals
This proclamation is at hand
for everything to be as planned
The bells have rung, the goose is cooked
the joy is found by all who’ve looked
The trees of light are on display
and now it’s time for Christmas day
And as for gifts to be on show
there is but one that they all know
For in these lands so far above
The only christmas gift is love
Six wives - three Catherines, two Annes and a Jane
were married to Henry in the course of his reign.
An Anne and a Catherine met their end by the axe.
Anne Boleyn was too haughty, Catherine Howard too lax.
Henry's very first wife was Catherine of Aragon,
both pious and faithful, a virtuous paragon.
Producing no sons, she incurred a divorce.
Anne of Cleves followed a similar course.
Her face was spotty; she had bad teeth and bad breath.
Don’t trust a portrait, the wise man saith..
Jane Seymore very sadly died as she gave birth.
Henry's last wife, Catherine Parr, was a woman of worth.
More a nurse than a playmate, she bathed Hal with affection
and did a good job to relieve his dejection.
Envoi
So that's the close of this ditty,
which I think is rather a pity.
No, I'm not the Poet Laureate,
as the Royal Court never saw to it.
If I were paid to do so,
I'd keep writing like Robinson Crusoe.