You come across humble but I don’t buy it
a martyr? unlikely I suppose
voice opinions turns fights to riots
Why my way do you oppose
Hear the martyr speak
Preaching preaching
This way that way a poet must be
Teaching teaching
through poetry
a perfect vision found in ideology
A divine message for you and me
Their perfect way
they’re perfect aye
friction friction in those they oppose
the way the problems arose
Martyr martyr knows more than all
Martyr martyr so wonderful
Martyr martyr oh so humble
Martyr martyr riot starter
Martyr martyr be politer
Martyr martyr bigot bigot
Martyr martyr stop being a pillock
preacher preacher bigot bigot
look a bit deeper you will find it
not a martyr narrow minded
Martyr Martyr problem starter,
avoid the violence preach in silence
He breathed his monotonous homely air
And felt it was not his time to be there,
And departed for world-famed distant shores
Where he believed happiness brimless flows.
And true the sundry scenes promised change:
On the bitumened streets were gals of every range
And though the languages were new, all looked fair
And his heart throbbed with the puff of foreign air.
He liked the taste of the liquor folks imbibed there
As well as their willing capacity to dream and dare,
And so he began to think: “My heart’s merry at last”,
And cursed his country and washed himself of the past.
He taught himself the rules associated with foreign codes
And marveled at his capability to adopt unfamiliar modes,
He forsook the old and with feigned piety learned politer faiths
Convinced that his father’s religion was a careful set of myths.
But when all was forgotten and the new seemed ever right
The silent old started to haunt his every other sleepless night,
So he couldn’t take it anymore, and returned after years had passed,
And when he puffed again the native air, he sighed: “I’m home at last!”
The careless, chuckling cheetah
With spittle on its mouth.
The skinny faced cheetah,
Emotionally frail,
Dreadfully trained.
The infant-minded cheetah
Sprinting into the black lake’s tears
For the skeleton of a vagrant.
Ball and chain,
elation, nature, elation,
The boys, the girls, the stars
The cigarette-scented cheetah.
Foxy, like a woman,
Alluring as a bronze skinned streetwalker,
Sexy, wicked
Cinnamon-lipped, noxious---
That is the cheetah.
And I, who am human, would love her
But she claws my face
And I, who am human,
Would lavish her with rarities
Yet she forsakes me.
So now I seek the husky---
The cold-faced husky,
For she, they say,
Is a politer courtesan,
And in her house my troubles
May escape the hex of the cheetah.
INSULT FREE MUSIC
It will be a politer world when we reach the stage
Of California never forgetting the Little Deuce Coupe, you know,
And the suntanned Beach Persons of young age;
Walkin’ ( or perhaps rollin’) to New Orleans with Obese Domino;
Hucklebucking ( whoever knew what this meant?)
And twisting with Rotund Checker, all twirled;
England still smelling gorgeous Spice Persons’ scent
And Large-mouthed Armstrong, in his wonderful world.
……………………………………………………………………………………………
Note
In a school quiz which I once chaired, most 17 year olds thought
Louis Armstrong had landed on the moon (this is not a joke).
When life has the ability of turning sour
don`t feel disheartened,down or cower
because life on our rollercoaster is no easy ride
we go up,sideways then the occasional slide
If we take onboard most or of our mistakes
the ride eases up and gives you a break
just so that you can gather your thoughts
to whatever you may have bought
If you go through your life with a smile,more politer
you won`t go far wrong,and your day will be brighter
My childhood
Limicolous nomic but limpid or propper,
Hard lines limb, non violent and passage stopper,
Vegetarian, nonchalant, compliance or observant,
Prepotent prepositor, jannock jangler and importunate copper.
Metoposcopist, mettled, nonplus politer or politic,
Demonstrator, protagonist, receiver or a fair way to chopper.
My childhood, credible, conceivable or appreciator,
Sagacious, replenish, reprobator and republished hocker.
My childhood was a joker.
Nature's anger
As we hurt her pride
We rape and pillage
Her countryside
These storms she brings
Her power of wrath
Tornado's, Tsunami's
Destruction path
Floods so furious
As they sweep all aside
Boulders like houses
Cast aside
Torrential rain
Mother Nature's tears
Storm drains struggle
Increase our fears
What's to do,
To calm her down
Act as we care
In our cities and towns
In her countryside
To honor, obey
And maybe her wrath
Will have a politer say
If she has any sisters
Out there and beyond
If we treat them the same
I'm sure they'll respond
She has given us grace
To live on her lands
The least we can do
Is try to understand
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