With lank longish hair, of virtue most spare
Hollow cheeked, with joints that creak..An elderly evil proponent of deaths i see there is a reek a pungence of cadavers in such abundance, he knows not where he has buried children a'plenty Grandfathers their
Wives, but then for satan he strives.' He must at least rank as a liutennant skull and
Cross bones on his pennant, a trace of accord..He has trodden the boards floors he is invisible on the black squares.' And will never give up his share.' He mooted for
Guvenor of Gaza, no other i dare could
Show such brass neck.' Of tony blair, who will
Be, no doubt? flexing his ropey old pecs.'
I detest a late appointment, be it love or business,
on the breath of the Trafalgar,
and with Nelson peering down at such looseness
on the revered Square, teeming with man and pigeons.
Imagine being on surveillance from such dizzying height!
Give me a break and come early,
Before Big Ben, the lone cockerel of London,
Crows with that huge metallic tone,
Ushering in dawn and her smiling, smouldering light.
Meet me at the Trafalgar with a bouquet of flowers
And I will come with a white, fluttering pennant.
Let the match for love and peace begin.
Yamamoto's pitching. It's in the bag,
The Dodgers will win a pennant flag.
Of course, they'll win. How can they not?
The answer, friend, is Tanner Scott.
Day to remember those who perished
In wars and skirmishes abroad
Let their images be cherished
By those who knew them from the squad
To pin a pennant of "Old Glory"
In earth where heroes lay in rest
Their lives were short, but what a story
May their memories be blessed
Let's honor them as time is going
We move afar from battles fought
They gave it all, and we're bowing
Our heads; in angst, respect and thought
May 26, 2025
A crawling held a walled frame as passer-by beheld too
A football helmet and high school pennant encased against a wall
Tapestry of day shades painted wall of ledged held rolled flag.
Its mouth is a bloodshot pennant,
the clacking tongue a buckram spear
shaken at all comers, the torso a perfect bow
for that arrowing beak and its raucous bugle -
the emblematic screech
of an avaricious hunter.
Fine honed wings scythe
the margins of water and air.
On land, it plays the fool,
an artful prankster scavenging
beneath a clownish mask.
The bird is innately admirable,
sleek, often graceful,
until,
those razor-edged shears
slash across the throat
of an off-guard and
wincing fear.
With all due respect to the late Mr. Fregosi,
he was one of the best infielders anyone could see.
However, his later years were plagued with injury.
Jim became involved in the most lopsided trade in history.
The New York Mets were involved in a pennant chase.
They needed a competent player to cover third base.
New York traded a right hander who could have been their ace.
Off went Nolan Ryan to the Angels in California.
He turned out to be the best pitcher in America.
With over seven thousand strikeouts and seven no-hitters to his name,
Ryan was worthy of entrance to the Hall of Fame.
This was a hard pill to swallow for fans of the Mets.
All of them look back on this trade with regrets.
We are mercenary rebels of emotion
From another place across the wide blue ocean,
With noble ideas concepts and one man’s notion
Come and join our paladin band of devotion.
Force with intellect many incentives to earn
Use of one’s youthfulness with countless plans to burn,
Believe in us an alien thought control to learn
Together as one our enduring strength will turn.
When morning mist is apparent there hides the dog
In disguise blending with your democratic fog,
Brainstorming army infiltrates commerce to flog
A change of pennant an evolution to log.
A choice to navigate with the will of the crowd
Alone to wander aimlessly as a rogue cloud.
© Harry J Horsman 2020
THE UNICORN
Ever seen a more beautiful sight?
She is drowning into the wind
All sail set,
Triple tangled,
Purple pearl gears,
Glittering glassy artilleries,
Unrivalled weaponry.
Isn't she a beauty
She's got the wind behind.
Look at the velocity she's setting,
Barely noticing the Barbados.
With a grip of urn full of rum
And the finest of tobacco
The hearts of the sail's set
For the audacity of hope.
The red pennant,
The blood line's cold
And every sea captain
Looks upon that flag
For he knows he faces a fight to death
And then he saw her,
As an apparition mounting from the dead.
The sea rose in it watery execution.
But I was told sea lion don't flee
From the wavers watery wonders.
Instead, he staggers not but swaggers on
Until they sail past the North Pole
And trodden upon the sands of Sahara.
VickWizzy
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright ©2014.
THE UNICORN
Ever seen a more beautiful sight?
She is drowning into the wind
All sail set,
Triple tangled,
Purple pearl gears,
Glittering glassy artilleries,
Unrivalled weaponry.
Isn't she a beauty
She's got the wind behind.
Look at the velocity she's setting,
Barely noticing the Barbados.
With a grip of urn full of rum
And the finest of tobacco
The hearts of the sail's set
For the audacity of hope.
The red pennant,
The blood line's cold
And every sea captain
Looks upon that flag
For he knows he faces a fight to death
And then he saw her,
As an apparition mounting from the dead.
The sea rose in it watery execution.
But I was told sea lion don't flee
From the wavers watery wonders.
Instead, he staggers not but swaggers on
Until they sail past the North Pole
And trodden upon the sands of Sahara.
VickWizzy
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright ©2014.
FLOWER IN THE CRANNIED WALL
I tower above the crumbling ruins
Of a once majestic tower,
Flag and pennant proudly proclaimed
Pompous claim of pelf and power.
Yet all the boast and bombast,
In crumbling silence relates,
Of transient tenebrous things,
Of fickle times, of fickler fates!
Filigreed fronds in gentle sway,
Butterfly-hued my petals smile,
Delicate poise, yet firmly gripped
By roots who’ve been awhile.
So here I sit so up on high
Exuding sweet allure,
Biding time in changing climes
To wilt and die for sure.
But then, again, I’ll never die!
My seed will traverse to distant land
In nurturing avian gut to drop
In crag or cranny - to make its stand.
(And phoenix-like I'll rise again!)
...Sophia was a novelist,
and her first book, a surprise smash.
she rubbed elbows with litearti,
had pretensions to be high class.
They praised her novel so, so much,
even called her the next Bronte,
Sophia started to believe it,
said her next book would blow them away.
That next book was hyped to extreme,
but landed with a resounding thud,
three years of hard work, nobody cared,
critics yawned, and sales were a dud.
Sophia never wrote again,
from the literary field she fled,
forgetting that just one hit book
for writers is batting .300.
Dante was a great switch-hitter,
snd destined for the Hall of Fame,
he had the talent, skill, and drive,
and best of all, love of the game.
But he just couldn’t hit knucklers,
the ball’s movement as obscene,
and when he struck out in the ninth,
ne felt he’d let down the whole team.
Never the type to throw a bat,
though his disappointment was clear,
Dante hated when he struck out,
there was a pennant race this year!
But he bit back all that anger,
because he knew just where it led,
the best who’d every played the game
still only batted .300.
Stephanus Marcus Book 1
Canto 6
Verses 4 and 5
Now herald monarch's late arrival nigh.
From east his royal standard shows design.
A lion bold displays from pennant high -
courageous beast, a brave and noble sign.
King's escort knights are seen a riding line,
protective shield defending great their Sire.
Soon castle makes a feast of meat and wine,
Duke Morley's servants whole will never tire.
To please his Sovereign great is Morley's main desire.
Buffoons and jugglers, tumblers, actors make
King Richard’s stay that night a pleasant time.
Then day's new light brings jousting games that take
the stoutest knights that need must be in prime.
On mule clown rides, the winning knight doth mime,
and archer's contest made concludes the day.
A lutist plays a sweet song's tune of rhyme.
Soon priest chants prayer, an eve's melodic lay.
Forsooth, another night king's knights and he will stay
Stephanus Marcus Book 1
Canto 5
Verses 8 and 9
"Lord Marmaduke is second option, Saint.
A knight that smiles much I do like with me,
and ye choose Marmaduke without complaint?
If ye nod yea, your way then may it be.
That noble liege of fame soon I will see.
Now he both always doeth my desire
and seeks to please the throne expressing glee.
Forsooth, one knows his garments need not fire.
This knight of merry disposition, I'll not tire."
King Richard liked not Saint's excuses lame.
When he returned from holy Ashkelon,
reward for being stubborn he would name.
Lord Marmaduke was no bad hangeron,
of reputation being fine bon ton.
Now he could fight and sword was useful glaive,
as line commander he could show baton.
Among the knights, king's pennant he would wave.
King's mind foresaw the many souls lost they could save.
So carefully chosen
the augmented thread of clarity
inside the birds nest
and from out of its maze
to find some sense of confusion
and teased apart the fibers
of all my questions
And for this moment I hung
my life on its precipitous rope
dangling there in the vacuum
between the mountain
and how the distance in its footstool
can end on a rocks cadaverous crunch
Am I rolling towards oblivion
on yet another high
giddy with the feeling
of suddenly knowing why
AH !
These moments exuberant
as they counterbalance
when I spilled my guts
to tell the world how outraged I really was
and with my pennant string
jerked at my puppets arms
on the hangman's jig I did my little dance
and all for just one final gasp
Best be this tantrum stamp
tearful cry and plead
to scratch at the tiny things
my unimportant imaginings
and consider my attention has gained some kind of diversion
with which to be preoccupied
tomorrow I’m sure I will feel more satisfied
Riding on my own roller-coaster
barreling forward towards oblivion
on yet another high
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