Upon a midnight battlefield, the Black Knight rides alone,
His armor shining silver bright, his heart as hard as stone.
A sword of ancient magic, clutched within his hand,
He fights with noble courage, for justice in the land.
The Avenger’s strength beside him, they battle all night,
Yet Black Knight’s honor guides him, his soul a beacon light.
From Camelot’s old legends, he carries proud his name,
Though shadows fall around him, his spirit stays the same.
Against the darkest villains, he stands with gallant grace,
A visor hides his secrets, his pain none dare to trace.
With every swing and parry, he turns the tide of fate,
Defending those who hope in him; their lives he’ll vindicate.
On steed of blackest velvet, he rushes to the fray,
The Avenger’s loyal comrade, he never shies away.
In tales of epic valor, his legend grows each year,
The Black Knight, ever steadfast, inspires hope not fear.
So raise a toast to heroes who fight in darkest night,
And honor the Avenger’s faithful, noble Black Knight.
His quest endures forever, his legacy will grow,
A shining star in Marvel’s sky, his courage e’er shows.
Sunbathing on a ship in the Med
seventy-two, I heard you, Harry;
you did not drift into my young head
but speared with sword, I could not parry.
There it has stayed, never left my soul
“can’t live if living is without you”
words, one day, I’ll play them to console;
girls let you down, mother said they do.
Yet, still now, the song remains unplayed
all that life has taken, and bestows
we have love that never seems to fade;
“Guess that’s just the way the story goes.”
Without You - Harry Nilsson
Arcane dearly loved institution really does make my blood boil
Clearly gravy train devotion yet still we don’t won't embroil
Confirm detest term “the firm” just makes me squirm and recoil
Handshakes from rakes on the take.. insane destitution we toil
Incest selection we suggest a contest like may be an election?
They josh oh golly gosh this tosh the Constitution didn't foil
Nation's fascination with wally Charles the Turd's coronation
Herd with this absurd have a word off their trolley veneration
No defection as the loyals' protection ensure all the spoils
Girth of their worth pilfered from serf & turf since birth oils
Even Randy Andy or scrappy snappy Harry can’t seem to soil
Kibosh posh arseholes nepotistic trolls on the Monarchy dole
End this whole sick rigmarole..Republic for each prole the goal
No parry views & news.. carry on as "Happy as Larry" crappy Royals
your love is a blade
honed so sharply by umbrage
each parry draws blood
teeth grind silently
in jaw's prison for sorrows
anger pressed to bone-
forgiveness waits at the gate
suppressed until victory
clenched lips hide the cry
parry what loud eyes don't see
masking every wound-
rage silenced by the anger
etched in muscle, bone, and brow
knuckles white, jaws locked
displays the relentless fight
in hate's epitaph-
yet while clenched, a jaw can't shout
a clenched fist can't grab a sword
the choice lies within—
clench until the fire is spent
or loosen the hold
to free the mouth to declare
the path to revolution
a sharp two-edge blade
cuts too quick for pound of flesh-
sly parry of wit
leaves assailant floundering
for razor sharp comeback slice
The vibrant popinjay has gone.' The harlequin no more really
Spins in song.' The magic's now all in a can.' Younger female backers
Parry times looming advance plan..' The age'd icon takes his glances
Across the acres, of yearning souls in hopefull trances..Parody banners they lie.' beneath sultry skies.' Echo the effigy of the past, See it burned in the mans eyes.'
Actions Describe.' Writ large the irony of life.' Youth has
Flown.' All hail its ghost, Ronnie strums, the speakers hum.'
Geri-acrity...Fumbles combinations and with alacrity..' 0yet theres really not one chance.' No way back.' All I see is false hope.' Rod Stewart is a husk.' Not yet voiceless.' Nor danceless yet
Its the back end, of the romance.!
Did you all hear about Elmer Fudd
That Wascally Wabbit drew first blood
Bugs swordplay was as thus
Advance, parry, and thrust
Now Elmer dwells six feet in the mud
The Domain of Fear
The Devil and hell, all Christians would agree,
Are the fate awaiting non believers like me.
But if you search the Scriptures you’d see,
Both Satan and hell are nowhere to be
Found in the Writings of the Jews,
And to Christians, this is real news.
All dead people went to the place of the dead.
Sheol was the name and there was no dread,
Of modern heaven or hell.
Good or bad, that’s where you’d dwell.
But Christians came up with this permanent abode,
So as to keep the believers cowed.
And the Devil? Nowhere in the Jewish Scripture.
Of The Satan, we have a different picture.
A vassal of God, no power to harm.
He only does God’s bidding, (turn down your alarm).
Look at Job with God and the Adversary.
There is no dissent, God need not parry.
Both concepts are fiction, made up to cause fear
So that followers would obey, listen and adhere.
Truth be told I don’t have many
Truths…that is
My beliefs have changed
Over the years
Not always for the better
According to some
Who hold their “truths” paramount.
I tell those people
“I am what you made me”
It’s been said that
I have no filters
Will say whatever runs
Screaming through my mind
My parry and thrust
Usually involves subtle
Quixotically imbued ideas
As I bear scars from battling windmills.
I have learned to
Question the question
Question the questioner
Question why they asked
That question
In that way
At that time
I also learned from my dogs
“sniff it, if it stinks
Don’t bother to chew on it”
I haven’t mastered the licking thing
But I do clean up after myself.
She'd been staring at me since I can recall.
A da Vinci saccharine smile painted on her lips
that I'd traced with fingertips in my youth.
Forsooth wondering, "Who are you, comely lady,
and why does no one ever mention your name?"
Eyes of melancholy, but not a tear had she spilled.
For years now, I'd asked that the truth be told
why she'd been given a place on the parlor wall,
yet no one speaks of her with honor or a trace
of how gracefully she sat on that stiff backed chair.
A fetching look adorned the face of this exquisite lass,
whose lustrous raven hair was released from its chignon.
What sin had she committed that's kept her story hidden
and her name omitted or deleted from the family Bible?
In gold gilded frame, what blame does she still carry?
What thrust and parry duel must she have fought,
perhaps for love. Her presence hangs in oils but despoiled.
Aged painting of this alluring woman remains a mystery
to me, but I see in her eyes, a familiarity I recognize
each time I peer into the mirror on the vestibule wall.
I have no regard
for other poets
how could it be other
As they conscript
the words away
of which I’ve not discovered
A battle royal
zero sum
as phrases block and parry
The winner left
his voice reclaimed
— the loser most disparaged
(The New Room: February, 2024)
Yield? Not to you, I certainly won't.
I'll parry on hot coals, I'll lunge to your affront.
Succumb? I'll not breathe your air of lies,
Since no honeyed sweetness makes me compromise.
Supplicate? Then throw down your armor at will.
Once freed from this battle, you will be my love still.
He’s always So Behind
Hasten,
Mason
Heavenly Guy
Sky glow
Milo
A Great Guy
Maxwell
acts swell
Sure Not Dickie Nixon
Tricky
Micky
Spoiled Guy
Bratty
Mattie
Why We Follow
Moses
Shows us
Such a Cheerful Fellow
Jaunty
Monty
Hope he Doesn’t want Kids
Sterile
Merrill
The Stoic
Spartan
Martin
He Keeps Them in the Family
Newel’s
Jewels
The King’s Favorite
Jester
Nestor
He’s Just so Tall
Shorten
Norton
Almost got Left off the Ark
Noah’s
Boas
I Have . . .
Faith in
Nathan
The Shrewd One
Heady
Neddy
The guy in Charge
Foreman
Norman
Never Sits Still
Goin’
Owen
Stuck at Home
Snowed in
Odin
A Nobody
Zero
Nero
Put Him on a Diet
Fatty
Paddy
Give Him a Shave Please
Hairy
Parry
Never Finished Med School
Nursie
Percy
Kind of a Loafer
Restin’
Preson
Mr. Popular
Tweeter
Peter
His Magic
Patrick’s
Hat Tricks
Worm Man
Wriggly
Quiggly
Aldham man Harry
In poetry tarried, stilting or lilting
Did thrust, and parry, worthy Harry
Western Aus, he claimed was good
Yet sadness tore three years away
Under the fierce sun, a darkness stood
Palling people faces of fear huddle.
And reasoning why how what here?
He'd faced it all, he'd caught some pain.'
Yet he'd get around it and begin again
He's forged some friendships, tightened
Some bonds, shared his thoughts and
Wisdom, as we were going along
Quite a charactér outstanding mate.'
Good memories and laughter he did
Did permeate; display, by God he was
Gifted, yet he was low key..Just Harry's
Way.' Thats how he came across to me..
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