Long Ventriloquist Poems
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Oh, heart*, God wants you to be under His control surely
For out of you come issues of life tremendously;
Your evil motives provoke consciously
Enabling the will to harden obstinately.
Oh, heart, you must submit to God with earnestness
For you must be changed from your deceitfulness;
Your negative reactions lead toward faithlessness
Drowning the soul into depths of doubtfulness.
Oh, heart, obey God's direction
For you ought to follow biblical instruction;
Your foolish counsels can pull someone down to frustration
Causing the spirit to wallow in desperation.
Oh, heart, you need God’s discipline for your molding
For you become so stubborn and unbending;
Your proud perversions keep many unyielding
Weakening convictions from their firm standing.
Oh, heart, your confidence in God must always be constant
For you easily waver making the anxious futile and dormant;
Your unstable ways confuse them in every instant
Robbing them of joy, peace and blessings so abundant.
Oh, heart, keep submitting to God’s commandments
For you, by His power, can help the brave reach heavenly attainments
Your willing attributes propel them to comply to godly agreements
Driving their persistence to pursue after eternal achievements.
Oh, heart, victory in God awaits you in your humility
For you can be perfectly wholly for Him in His working ability;
Your unselfish desires push the meek to seek His kingdom’s priority
Moving them to serve the Lord with truth and sincerity.
*1Chronicles 22:19 Now set your heart and your soul to seek the LORD your God...
June 22, 2018
7th Place, "Ventriloquist" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Anthony Slausin; judged on 6/23/2018.
Ventriloquist---
Tongue, mouth, brain, hands
My arm and hand in your back
With my lips tightly closed
You see my face I utter not a word
But I am screaming, singing, talking, yelling
Voice appear to come from this dummy
Did I say my arm and hand in his back
Guess I'm just a ventriloquist
With my lips tightly closed
You see my face I utter not a word
Puppet in hand no, really
But I am screaming, singing, talking, yelling
Voice appear to come from this dummy
Look I insist see no moving lips
I'm just the greatest ventriloquist
I'm a David Strassman enjoys anonymity
Is most noted for developing strong personalities
I'm a Jeff Dunham currently the highest grossing touring comedian
The creation of Achmed The Dead Terrorist
I'm Terry Fator a Las Vegas performer winner of America’s Got Talent
I am Paul Zerdin, a favorite on television, often found entertaining on the Disney Cruise Line
I am Nina Conti hails from the United Kingdom. with her puppet Monk has brought her television fame ability for ad-libbing
I'm Jay Johnson Jay gained fame on the ground-breaking television show SOAP
I'm Taylor Mason grand prize winner on Star Search, earning $100,000 and it wasn't a hoax
I'm Mark Wade
I is America's most foremost kid
I'm Lynn Tretzger hilarious female ventriloquist often entertains at colleges, on cruise ships of sorts
I'm Tom Crowl earned a living making people laugh for over 30 years
best known for his groundbreaking online ventriloquism course
You see my face I utter not a word
Puppet in hand no, really
But I am screaming, singing, talking, yelling
Voice appear to come from this dummy
Look I insist see no moving lips
I'm just the greatest ventriloquist
6/17/18
Ventriloquist Poetry Contest
Sponsored by:Anthony Slausen
Corky Withers was a Very talented performer,
leaving audiences Excited and mystified
with his magic acts Night after night.
More mesmerizing Than the sleight of hand
was his sidekick, the Raucous, rude dummy, Fats,
through which (whom) he Illustrated his ability
to speak through dead-still Lips. All eyes were on Fats.
Then—well, Fats took Over, so to speak.
Corky, by then Quite mad, ended up killing two people.
Seemingly unassuming and shy, he was Under the spell
of the evil, controlling Fats—Corky’s true Id manifested.
I vividly remember some Scenes from Magic (1978)--
to me, a truly Terrifying movie.
Magic starred Anthony Hopkins, Ann-Margret, and Burgess Meredith.
June 17, 2018, entered in Anthony Slausen's Ventriloquist Poetry Contest
Six friends met for seance
brought their dolls
placed ring-a-rosy in the center of a table
dolls holding hands.
Lights were dimmed
and seance session started
guests cast their voices
as ventriloquists to the dolls
without moving their lips.
The dolls gossiped among themselves.
No one knew who made which doll speak.
At first it was a fun
a round table chat.
Some tried different voices.
But then, the mood shifted
as strange new voices appeared
spooky and sinister,
with more serious tone and subject.
First one, then two people left the room
too eerie and sinister by far.
Still the conversation ran round and round
between the chatting dolls.
Then someone noticed
the look on the doll's faces changed -
their eyes moved, they frowned a little.
Their demeanour became angry and bitter.
By then all friends had left the room.
But still the dolls chattered away
with strange voices flung afar
from ghostly six ventriloquists
chatting amongst themselves
in the dark.
I imagine little house on the prairie
(bordering Lake Woebegone),
a place to hang cloak
most bucolic, edenic, idyllic...
apropos place for this poetic cowpoke,
who at present day trumpets
himself as token panhandler
of Perkiomen Valley, a
genteel, gentile, and gentle
Semite with friendly okie doke
demeanor easily mistaken
for dishabille and disheveled drunk,
nonetheless harmlessness, I evoke
espied by any man, woman and child
in these parts predominantly
non kosher festive folk,
(especially at Old Pool Farm
August 16, 17, 18 2019)
quick witted with zealous
wordplay, quips and/or
oy gavalt hexameter innocent joke
adroit, capable, das strict
test electrifyingly
faux gerrymandered,
incredible ventriloquist
nsync with karaoke
reaching within my
rabbinical bag of tricks
succeeding with flying colors
par excellent masterstroke
or sometimes more'n one ministroke
never abracadabra prestidigitation
to insult nor poke
fun at anybody but yours truly,
though even lampooning
self could provoke
unwittingly etiquette revoke
king welcome as town
pauper, inscrutable hobo
(phobic) figure, beggar
pummeled By George with
thoroughly good soak
king courtesy rotten tomatoes
if gibes overly saucy
subsequently shuffling off into sunset
emulating Charlie Chaplin
encountering wealthy patron
as blessed thunderstroke
before getting struck by lightning!
THE DUMMY
He threw his voice
O U T
a teeny glasses wise
G U Y
his head shifts
left & right
and bobs up and down
with laughter
to the 1 story doll in the box
the ventriloquist seems to be
a dummy with no mind
of his own
the doll is nervous
will his act be all that
cold sugar-bean fingers
snap into his skull
the actor drinks water
as the doll waves
and undulates in song
the dolls huge eyes shifty, it
starts to clamor for applause
the sudden shift in the ventriloquist’s tone
sends shivers down to the doll’s toes
the doll’s become the pawn of the dummy
sore afraid to return to his cardboard prison
more afraid still as the new doll, Marilyn,
steals the show, show’n a little leg and shoulder
and the ventriloquist whispers into his ear
the horrors of not performing to his standard
hence he whispers to the magician, begging
a disappearance act. the audience laughs.
6/17/2018
Contest: The Ventriloquist
Where is the voice
that once spoke here
in this ancient amphitheater
of weathered rock. Now, there is
only the wind muttering prayers
along the wall, nothing
more than the sound
of absence being squeezed
through stoney lips.
The gods are silent,
entombed between the pages
of books or paralyzed in marble
to grace the halls of history.
This is the age of the ventriloquist,
manipulator of the image
that gives animation and succor
to the need for talking gods.
We are not tuned to silence.
The noise of the self
deafens the soul
with its constant chatter.
Having torn down the temples,
we kick the dust of our endeavors
into a soundless void
as if trying to fill the infinite.
It's funny, because I've vacuumed under your bed
a hundred times in the past two years
I've dusted the black bedside table
picked up your Scotch and Soda pants off the floor,
still jingling with belt attached
All of your belts and shoes are brown
My father told me as a child, that homosexuals
were identifyable according to the colour of their leather
- Brown meant straight - black equalled gay - simple!
It was an odd jolt seeing your face for the first time
Framed in slim silver, large laptop screen size photo
A typical care filled composition
Brunette, proud as puch five foot five, linked her arm
Through your blue shirt arm, her grin was relief saturated
She had to be a Christian, your family is devout Christian
Appearing 25, she no doubt felt a first sexual encounter
was long overdue
But catered for entirely by God's intention
Anyhow, Aaron, I'm sorry I digress, - you're a busy man
Hence I've never seen you on a Friday when I clean there
You haven't yet moved out of Mom and Dad's s home, it must
make it easier to keep life in order, avoid giving in to urges
1920's movie star you are, in glinted silver screen frame
Minus Charlie Chaplin moustache
Plus ten pounds, giving your face cherubic cuteness
Kewpie eyed expression unphased
jowls harking harmless ventriloquist puppet
Don't be upset
If I described myself it would be similarly unorthodox
Vacuum zooming (according to aggressive motor noise)
I gazed at your lax lipped purple tinged face
- it has to be the most obvious unspoken secret in your family
- Aaron, sweet child of God.
Your world won't have a bar of who you are
Your Mother had just returned to position a large vase
showcasing three dozen orange roses behind your frame
Plus a cellophane covered hamper of high end liquor
God, Aaron - your upbringing has enclosed you
aligned with their strict beliefs
You'll need to put that cellophane over your mouth
Wrap it tight around your heart
- You have a congregation to consider
you'll be alright
At first I thought it such a thrill the way he reached inside my dress
I liked the way he stroked my hair and did things that I can't confess
He made me speak such naughty words with readied open mouth
and yes I liked it when he said, "Common, let's turn you south"
Yes they watched him watching me as he did those things to me
it was a freak show I admit, an entertainment fast and free...
A peep show for the salty ones with eager hands and lusty eyes
I do believe he had me strung with lots of push and pull and ties
I was his puppet on a string and he my smooth Ventriloquist
I love the way he blushed, as if he'd jsut been kissed...
The End.
June 19, 2018
Wooden mouth eats word and threat.
Frozen eye stares through vaudeville glaucoma.
The master is mimicked, masked, and mocked.
Doll tuxedo stretched from neck to crotch.
Head swivels to whiplash punchlines.
If it’s all in good fun, why do I want to die?
Neck telescopes and voice screeches.
Tears spurt from stage to footlight.
Two are one, yet double of what cannot exist.
It’s nearly there, nearly a man, a malformed thought.
Hanging on the edge of another world.
A fleeting spectre in a funhouse mirror.
Curtain lowers beneath dying lights.
Gathered terrors are delivered home.
Yet tiny footsteps follow behind.
Remember crimson rictus.
Lips move, but words never come.
On cue the final joke falls flat.