Long Swamped Poems
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Dear Donalds and Fans Thereof
I suppose by now you have noticed
there is an unfortunate difference
between draining the swamp
and becoming the swamp.
Swamp life promises fast thrills
but delivers slow and sure decomposition,
decay,
dissonance,
despair,
loneliness at the sadly shared bottom
of the top.
But, the swamp is also rich with creolization opportunities,
polycultural seductions and fertility,
cooperative marshes
trying to breathe
underneath our oil slick
toxic ego-incorporated politics.
To drain the swamp
we must first notice
we have become swamped.
To drain the Trumps
we must first notice
we have become trumped.
A dazzling blaze sews magic on warm eyes.
Hurdles were solved, and secret vows were heard.
I won't steer the yarns while holy denies.
My cheers are shorn, and my heart is averred.
All musings are being wrecked with a sword.
Bumptious, you believe, life tricks may apply.
So shut your eyes and bear yourself a few dries.
Earth life has an aim, yet we trust God's may.
You've swayed me; you hand a heavenly prize.
The stinks of anguish seep from veins and blood.
Astute thrives, teaching groups of soul and rise.
Bunk time dawdled on, yet death stalled ahead.
At which wayward tears of memory scoured.
Once the grave prodding heads him to comply,
How pointless would it be if no one believes?
Earth life has an aim, yet we trust God's may.
My inward beasts are swamped forward to seize.
I'm battling, yet my dense wheezes are heard.
We've pleaded with God for such a glimpse guise.
Too long, psyche harm has been our swear word.
Is it taut to earn a clear slant on the board?
Where has our keen the past sunk to decay?
Is it tough to grab a clear view of ties?
Earth life has an aim, yet we trust God's may.
This deep yearning proves that there is inbred.
Believe that God is love concealed in the sky.
Coldness and loneliness on a stark sled,
Earth life has an aim, yet we trust God's may.
Written: December 28, 2021
''B'' Forms, 10 Plus lines Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Violet verse channel,
or swarovski conduit,
phrase on finger tips,
itchy inclination,
poetry a purl knit,
garment of expression,
for enigmatic inklings,
lambent latex lyrical,
garnet clad dwelling,
for weighty topic,
of metric tonne metier,
life questions welling up,
within sentient me,
once occluded,
I’d adumbrate in brief,
daily conversations,
then blithely omit,
in dizzying eddy,
whirlpool roundabout,
of clogged schedule,
one can self delude,
haul out trite fibs,
glib excuses,
such as swamped,
with chores unwieldy,
then a frail whisper,
exhorted earnestly,
“Write From The Heart,”
and other pristine prompts,
your skills now await,
without inane bragging,
stories, essays, tracts,
which in the past,
were wardrobe assets,
worn in taut scrutiny,
in arrant academia,
employed by me,
in chosen field of science,
where conceptual clarity,
in tests, exams, orals ,
ranked and reigned,
supreme,
gracious gumption plucker,
me embarked on,
poetic escapade extraordinaire,
poetry my fresh lease,
of life
Notus comes creeping furtively from the south
hot and bothered from the blazing summer sun.
The wind of change...concealed it launches sudden storms
as clouds pile up across the sky, dark and towering,
lightning flashes, thunder drawls, torrential rain descends;
rivers swell to bursting point; fields are swamped, crops destroyed.
Then once again he sneaks away, planning his next move.
His neighbour, Eurus, wants to show he’s no less able.
Bearing his inverted earthen vase he goes along
clumsy in gait and spilling water on dry soil.
His forays from the east tend to be unlucky.
Autumn fades with a sigh on Aura’s gentle wings
as ice-cold winter rushes in impatiently
from northern frozen lands to take its place
goaded by the domineering force of Boreas
who moves ahead with strong, intense authority,
his violent temper uncontrolled. Despite his age
he pushes his galloping stallion to the limit
riding forth relentlessly, cloak billowing behind,
his white beard curled; shaggy hair spiked and frosted.
Roaring, across the land he speeds with utmost haste,
a sacred conch shell grasped firmly in steely hand;
tremendous power he exerts and blows aloud
while humans cower in dark caverns, shivering.
They know his moods and fear his devastating wrath.
In their minds, princess Oreithyia’s forced abduction,
rape, and carnal satisfaction are still fresh.
They yearn for winter’s bitter ally to move on
so that the gentle Zephyr enters from the west
bringing with him rainbows and showers of spring,
calm serenity, greenery, flowers, shades and hues,
romantic feelings, fiery passion and intense love.
Ultimately, all four have to heed and appease
King Aeolus, firm ruler and keeper of the winds.
----------------------------------
*Aura = breeze goddess
*Oreithyia = mountain Nymph
----------------------------------
18th December 2014
Contest: Gods of Winds
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Placed: 2nd
Time Machine
I sometimes wonder about migration, is there a moment when doors are closed and the bus leaves the station
Sorry folks, the country is full.
One of the reasons people from Pakistan and there about
try to enter Britain is caused by the BBC talking- up England making it sound like a place of milk and honey.
In 1947, the BBC had regularly sent to Norway but
I can't say anyone wanted to go there; as my Uncle Olav
“The British working class have always been poor.”
The Russian radio was in on the act telling sweet stories of a little girl lost on the tundra but saved by a heroic Russian soldier who waded out in an ice-cold river to save
the girl who sat on an ice-floe.
There was at the time, sympathy for the Russians they had sent the Germans packing and helped end the war
But politics was changing the Russian station became full of interference and eventually closed down.
It was a strange time in the forties, Norway traded with Russia and even went on holiday there The Russians bought the herring and wood products and shared coal mines on the Svalbard.
To be a car owner in Norway was a rarity, but suddenly
The country was swamped with thousands of Russian-made Fiat cars, and the heart of equality skipped a beat.
There was a man who was well-liked but was caught spying for Russia he said it was because he believed in
the system and tried to help.
After years of jail time, where he wrote self-serving books he was freed, but the Russia he professed to love had changed; he went to Moscow and started a business, and became a millionaire by working hard.
We know the truth, but it is too tedious to talk about it
One thing is sure, if you want to open a business it is not enough to make a call saying you are selling leather shoes you have to have some information on the friends
who helps you succeed.
PS What I remember has no date because when you are old all appears to be yesteryear.
Nowadays Norway is a rich nation, safely embedded in the U.S. interest sphere It might just as well be called an American state, the rumors have it the CIA is conducting its secret operations from Norwegian soil.
With this, I will say no more as my old-age pension is
paid by the Norwegian state.
Narrow mind, struggling to join all the dots
Thus missing out on the larger picture
Spiralling about in ego thought slots
Mind body, feeble soul caricature
An instrument to navigate earth life
Why then allow, it to be our teacher
Immersed here, in world of struggle and strife
We find ourselves swamped in limitation
Feeling each pain, cutting heart with a knife
Freedom in this simple recognition
That we are not limited mind body
This simple truth, known in meditation
Negating thus, feral thought forms shoddy
We bring head and heart into alignment
Feeling bliss throb within, slow and steady
Seek not, oh hermit, any attainment
Vaporise ego; rest in contentment
30-January-2021
(syllabic Terza Rima)
HEART OF A GOOD WIFE:
Don't ever nag that she grew wild,
I'm blunt to say this,so be assured.
And no more can you treat her bad.
Absolutely, she's now matured.
Frankly, she possess all the qualities,
That filled your home with tranquillity.
All your friends cherishes her might.
They obviously wish for her kind.
Yet,you kept handling her without care,
And what made you cheat on her?
Perhaps, you thought she wasn't aware,
As you're been swamped by an affair,
With those filthy promiscuous women,
Who ruins the peace of married men.
So never accept to say she changed,
Because you really made her enraged.
She's always a good woman in your life,
Who supports you as a noble wife.
But you caused her life to be fouled,
By decaying those words you vowed,
On the ceremonial day of your union.
Thank God she's spiritually moving on.
Though, you failed to fence her with love,
In order for both of you to be sound.
She intervenes for you with prayers,
For you to succeed in your line of work.
But you made her feel very despaired,
Without trying hard to put her first.
Now that she'd left and is happy in life,
She still pray for you every night.
But you sit all day lamenting sadly,
Over those wreckers acts of insanity.
Your businesses have totally collapsed,
And your individuality has relapsed,
Thence you struggle hard to survive,
As the one who holds you down is gone.
Therefore you wish to clear all your wrongs,
So you're tirelessly asking her to come back.
Just to get yourself right on track...
But it's fine you're turning a new page,
To reform your union with new phase.
Wishing you the best of luck....I'm out!
A cupola shin, prickly dick creed, hoary
testes tossed, master baiting ova all eel trades
crossed the fecund Rubicon and ejaculated
olly olly oxen yawping, in utero seminal raids
with phallic coup d’etat that buck came vasocongested spades
lit torch, where hello kitty Ernst lee screeched
amidst Grafenberg tit parades
bumping uglies during four nuke key eight ting game
where pinkish puckered two lips viz biological
Russian roulette played – birth control relegated as desuetude
hotly contested fee conned, caved heat seminal blitzkrieg overlaid
bilging swamped,
whence olds eye goat ruff fused exiting nightshade
shy ham mull in, and gave way to blast ta cyst
vis a visa viz biological fertilization qua two plump milkmaids
from inchoate seeds juiced beginning
to compress bladder re: lemonades
per diem mother via umbilical cord fueling gestation,
where sonogram shows faint genetic threnody skein
perchance manifold jades
nope – no fallacy when peppy thrust with sucks esse full feint
after thwarting objection against skin flute charmed thence invades
which begot conception from chromosomal traits stitched
via jean S, and her faction of trumpeting handmaids
whose fecund ditty began to feel swell as biological reproduction
showed no uterine back grades
as Tabula rasa In utero endured fusillades per what mother tubby ingested
sustenance promulgated noticeable womb dar full expansion fusillades
of nutriments ordaining future health of progeny
riddling endless questions within the gallimaufry
discombobulated mental, physical fatigue enfilades
and spiritual state of momma me ya in tha family way, whereby baby blueprint an outcome as nano sized atomic bombshells scoured decades
to determine the ontological makeup from when the fluid dynamics
spelling impregnation since time immemorial and into the future cascades
artfully concatenating eminent grise immaculate kindred laminated with waxy substance i.e. vernix, though smooth
doth serve analogous to microscopic switch-blades.
Form:
In the eyes of my cousins,
Lifted, like the birds – on wings
Exciting rhythms, limbs
Rounded with muscles, stronger
Than words, abandoned
To the shadows,
Silhouettes of grace, singing
Dancing in brown, blue, green
Versions of my heart,
Laughing, giggling, crinkled
With tears, years falling through
Trees, oaks and pines,
Tender leaves on spring praising
In gentle turns, breathing
Hearts open, sincere as the dreams
Dreamed by November thanks,
Praising Jesus for grace,
While the thoughts drifted, quietly
Soothing souls who believe
It is more than the fireflies glimmering
Beneath star studded skies,
Delighted by kindness,
Spun from silent dreams,
Those same reveries who kindle
Light in the crisp, cool mornings,
As dew drenched moments
Pour out of the sun,
Sinking beneath the azure
Poetry of a sky
In June, a sky who hears
Laughter and tears,
Easy conversations, gossip
Like a moment blowing on the winds
Where compassion reassures
Each heart, each gaze, each reflection
Of a domestic recollection,
Teasing the gentle
From the spirit who agrees,
Believing in the peace
Sent to harmonize with those
Who can see, who agree,
Family and faith, feelings
Flowing through the past
Into the present day,
Into the lasting grace,
Into this blessed place,
Where shadows remember
Silhouettes so tender,
Aunts and uncles,
Swamped by cousins who see
Past my skin, my hair, my fears,
To the heart of me
Where the loves overflows,
Bleeding into the joy I feel
When they are standing close to me,
Sweltering beneath the heat
Of love that combines
With belief to bring a sense of family
Blessed by the beauty of love,
That gives unconditionally!
The year is 2025
I have come back to my past
To witness the Mayans
Who said Earth would not last
2012
Was the year they declared
That the planet we knew
Could never be spared
An Asteroid shower
We could never comprehend
Sends this heaven to hell
In catastrophic spend
The first to hit
Was the daddy of them all
Our axis twisted
The human race in fall
Just of Madagascar
In the Indian Ocean
It's where it all started
That set our demise in motion
Tsunami waves
Like giant tower blocks
Swamped Indonesia
As Polynesia rocked
The force of impact
Reverberated west
On the Canary Islands
A dormant volcano so reft
It's massive mountain side
Into the Atlantic slipped
To the eastern seaboard
Of the United States it shipped
A second Tsunami
Half the world long
Would submerge the east
Taking the weak and the strong
The second to hit
Hit a place struck before
Tunguska in Russia
Receives another sore
Daylight turns to night
As earth meets our skies
Fallout from the reactors
In shattered demise
Radiated clouds
Eventually filter down
Leaving bleeding lacerations
As we humans death drown
Smaller asteroids
Some just a few hundred feet
Around the world they were marvelled
Until they meet their greet
The place where I stand now
Was Yosemite National Park
Now dark ridges of black
So bare and stark
It's been many many years
Since the sun shone through the screen
When I close my eyes I remember
When the earth was lush and green
How many of us survived
Will we ever know
Was this in our destiny
I think all around me, now shows