Man O’ Man can’t conquer the mother!
Hitherto, the quoth be gather.
To the havoc, thy avarice, foment;
The virulence is a channel of chastisement.
Man O’ Man can’t conquer the mother!
Hitherto, the quoth be gather.
The virulence is evil of discrete; say vox populi.
Is this matter fit to greet; nay Mehdi.
Man O’ Man can’t conquer the mother!
Hitherto, the quoth be gather.
Ipso facto, there will be a Jenner;
But the limbo, thence, ratifies the beginner.
Man O’ Man can’t conquer the mother!
Hitherto, the quoth be gather.
Man O’ Man can’t conquer the mother!
Hitherto, the quoth be gather.
To the havoc, thy avarice, foment;
The virulence is a channel of chastisement.
Man O’ Man can’t conquer the mother!
Hitherto, the quoth be gather.
The virulence is evil of discrete; say vox populi.
Is this matter fit to greet; nay Mehdi.
Man O’ Man can’t conquer the mother!
Hitherto, the quoth be gather.
Ipso facto, there will be a Jenner;
But the limbo, thence, ratifies the beginner.
Man O’ Man can’t conquer the mother!
Hitherto, the quoth be gather.
In the religion of science, “scientific truth” is absolute,
Although truth is,
As must be admitted:
That often even scientific truth is in dispute,
Especially when biases are permitted, and
False analyses, built around them, committed.
For the faithful believers in science, the truth is absolute, though
Facts contrary to this to them may ever be in dispute.
Even when mad scientists make things they must conceal,
Even when they manufacture things they must not reveal,
Explaining things by other than scientific truth,
Priests of science they remain, performing
What you might call "evil" acts--,
Promoting scientific truth
With science-distorting “facts”.
And then to believe in these fantastic twists of truth,
The populi they coach,
On the grounds that they are “scientists”,
And thus beyond reproach.
We are dancing to the song of senses, society and family since birth
Acting as per their dictates, serving them, trying to please them
Never a though why we are dancing non-stop, that too on song played by others
No cerebration about our personal wishes, the need of self
Why not stop this tiring dance, persisting ceaselessly without respite
Why not live a life being what we are, doing what gives us much joy
A life of no pretenses
Then we will dance to own tune, in own style
For our joy and exhilaration
Unconcerned about vox populi
After all our brain, our thoughts, our life matters too
In fact it should be our top priority
We owe it to self and creator who made us
Our last dance should be a joyful one
Filled with satisfaction of having lived well
enjoying every moment
A contented good bye before we sleep for ever
08.07.2021
For The Last Dance,craig cornish
Blow the Trump card!
Supreme court jestures
wanna mask
a pale blew,
Machiavellian facade
Poker hot as
an ire red ballot bluff firewall:
Algonquin blue
urn cry
is an ash white buffalo lip stall
Retaining power is the be all,
black robe rigged wishes
for a tabulated election recall
Blow the exhaust horn exit loud!
Voter vent dissipate
that carbon
monoxide,
toxic vapor cloud
Come a new Inaugural morn,
electoral clear sky
by dawn
Blow the mourn Trump card!
Elephantine exhalation whine
blare pachyderm grumble discard
Hear the bellow ballast blast
exit stage alt right hard
A fiery cast populi,
skyscraper cry
BYEDON
will echo proud at last
A win deed breeze
be storm force uttering: “You’re Fired!”
As the BYEDON reign
sweeps away the midnight raze
of a dark, cloudy horizon
Pray tell it leaves no
misty mourning pardon
"Who am I?
Who is but the form following the function of what, and what I am is a man in a mask,
but on this most auspicious of nights, permit me then, in lieu of the more commonplace sobriquet, to suggest the character of my dramatis persona.
Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran,
cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate.
This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished.
However, this valorous visitation of a by-gone vexation, stands vivified and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin van-guarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition.
The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta, held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous.
LOL,.. Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it is my very good honor to meet you, and you may call me V."
.. from the movie, V For Vendetta
A Fierce Clarity
Conundrums of doubt
dumb, dumb, dumb
downers with an excuse
to gulp the pill
wash down chemical
sweetener for the bitter palate of sugar
Grains of possession
miserable addicts of this technological freedom
bar-code a ticket to emancipation
cold blooded despots
placed in a box
vox-populi every opinion
A jailed perception
sees barbed-wires of need
must constrain the revolutionaries
and by poverty know less of greed
not by choice is survival
the only creed
So let fake news be the measure of hypocrisy
secret conundrum of dumb, dumb, dumb
the measure of stupidity
and by confused design
reorganize reality
devoid of God inside the response
Divine by any other word
yet in greatest torment
the devil works
creation beyond is on the far side of thoughts
beyond the created
and the ego of ants
to flesh delivers the arrogance
of governments.
Of Law, Negligence, Sentiment & Sonnet
(ignorantia populi est calamitas populi)
Of law, negligence, sentiment and sonnet,
Man is and must always be in commotion.
Law has given us many an asset
To mold our future with set-out notion.
Negligence camouflaged itself in Trojan House
Sanctity of law was exposed to Hiroshima.
Logic was to save glorious mother Themis
But sentiment crawled in from America.
Democracy is not always what it appears to be,
Where sentiment has blindfolded us against reason,
And what we see as reason is indeed treason
Democracy dies, and we’ll never disagree to agree.
Negligence has murdered law, and sentiment has
Swallowed fault
All may be lost, I fear, except my expository sonnet.
Bolaji Ramos
Villanelle: The Dilemma of the Non-Violent – 16
Covert modern State wiles mock Greek democracy
Must People cast votes to elect block Parties
Athenians all took part in vox populi
Founding Fathers of Great America Party
Chief Washington revolution guaranties
Covert modern State wiles mock Greek democracy
Corsican blood runs blue in French royalty
Scottish rites oath govern secret warranties
Athenians all took part in vox populi
Politicos Police legal fraternity
Avarice cruelty sexualities
Covert modern State wiles mock Greek democracy
No vote counts for individuality
All is grist to Big Money incongruities
Athenians all took part in vox populi
Will Grand Architect of Universality
Show his true face from behind inanities
Covert modern State wiles mock Greek democracy
Athenians all took part in vox populi
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2015
[It is the spontaneous utterance of the universal conscience.
- Elihu Burritt, “The Empire of Public Opinion”]
Remember that day, Elihu,
when you stood at your forge as the earth
shook underfoot. A steam-locomotive,
come to change the world.
Foot-traveler by choice, you walked out
to see what was left after the passing
of the Iron Dragon, and found a printing press
already spreading the news.
In not so many years, the Trans-Atlantic-Telegraph
would spread it even faster. You imagined
John of Patmos transported to your time, declaring
there was no more sea to separate
the continents, there was time no longer
between the event and the whole globe’s knowing it.
How quickly things can change,
yet some things seem to ever stay the same.
What word would you spread, Elihu?
You say Slavery at last is dead. But War –
destroyer of the soul – remains. Let the people
speak. Let it be God’s word. Peace.
Continental Shelf with its Continental Slope
If the Antarctic Ice Shelf melts
Continental Shelf gloats.
If its near flat land, it will gain on thee
As it extends its flow, we will never gain you see
Our seas will rise, as the ocean floors deepen
This heavenly land will become its seeking.
With the flood plains finally left on the shelf
Our mountains will become, small hill like elf's
Not so giant as in their day
Many will look like Tor's, in many a Bay.
If Global warming, is its result
Our Populi need to stand up and shout
If not for us, but our Children's generation
The powers that be, have to stand to attention.
Solar Variation, Greenhouse Effect
Two processes, Governments have to reflect
Carbon emission's, Ozone layer
Were probably all at fault, not earthly players.
One day we may look back, and wonder why
Too ignorant too talk, or just too shy
But will we have the guts
To look our planet in the eye.
Take me
Shape me
Misdirect me
You always want to see me
Down on my knees
For ever
And ever
I will always
Be there in front of your face
Screaming
For years
And years
I have been obliged
Followed your rules
Without doubt or question
It is time
for change
MY words
Echoing in YOUR ears
Fear no longer exists
You will always
Try to break me
But I'll always be there
Infront of your face
With eyes wide open
With a mouth wide open
And a fist raised
High up the air
This time
I won't
Sit back and watch
You kill ever last inch
Of me
I will
Do whatever I can
To bring you down
And I am not alone
You will fall
Enough of
Your lies
Your dirty and filthy lies
You are always in disguise
Nothing but a coward, who will soon die
I'm stronger
With stronger faith
I have multiplied
And always will
I am the vox populi(1)
You will always
Try to break me
But I'll always be there
Infront of your face
With eyes wide open
With a mouth wide open
And a fist raised
High up the air
(1)Vox populi, a Latin phrase that literally means "voice of the people"