A critical ally that rears and screams,
Only to extend this metaphysical play.
Where time becomes both friend and foe,
And when a shortfall leads to delay.
Realistically, the battleground is for truth,
That is far beyond the politically correct.
Where the roots of such a grand deceit,
Can be pulled & torn apart, not used to deflect.
While the illusion is indefensible, soldiers
Dig-in with offensive rhetoric they announce.
As if a child, throwing sticks and stones,
Can find some victory, while they denounce.
This conflict is simply a war of words . . .
Although explosions grow as they employ.
Yet when the carnage is looked upon in the
Aftermath, did the damage also destroy?
If we view this dramatic tragedy, with open
Eyes and critical thinking, utmost . . .
We just might rebuild this fragile democracy,
And avoid an antiquated, republican provost.
Categories:
provost, conflict, political,
Form: Quatrain
If he was the provost of a prison
He would open all of the cells
Let the prisoners decide among themselves
Who would live and who would die
They would dance into the yard
Laughing and carousing
Except for the small ones
Survival of the fittest
So aren’t you glad
he is not the provost of a prison?
Categories:
provost, life,
Form: Free verse
Lucifer;
Ho!,peace here
How by far
Will thou tarry with scare?
There in hell,
Lies temprount.
From beyond he fell,
To this lake-y mount.
By what law did you fell?
By law or by spell?
Thou are renown,
Than to be opposite of clown.
Speak,Ho!,to me!
Thy matter i did crave.
'Peace,Ho!,with me!
Afflict not again with whip'.
"By message was i sent,
To beneath the utmost.
To daniel was i sent,
To wroth him a provost.
But beheld as i go,
A fair beauty that held my soul.
By her was i distracted.
Plea the cruel flame,by whom i'm afflicted.
When from ocean of lust,
My mind sail'd back.
Remembered i the law,
And hasted to Daniel with the sac.
As my feet kissed the dust,
Fastened i to him with the tray,
But to my dismay.
Gabriel had replaced my trust.
Then to me,the creator spell;
'Away from my sight,and hence to hell'".
9/07/2017
Categories:
provost, angel,
Form: Narrative
Law, English, business, and so on—
alas, are tiresome!
All the professors here go on
with a prime axiom.
A moldy, college campus where
knowledge and books abound,
freshmen and co-eds are clueless
and confused all around.
Mid-terms and finals I so dread
as the semester wends;
the pressure's on me to study
as my freshmen year ends.
School's oppressive this semester,
I'll see my old provost
and leave 'ere I rot and fester
to try a better post.
William & Mary's M.B.A.'s
are just worthless BS
(degrees from the home of “The Tribe,”
dross that just obsolesce).
I'll trill as “The Lithium-Laced Lyrist”—
as rhymes are my forté,
not tomes or stuffy scholastics:
for poesy's my métier!
Categories:
provost, humor, rap, satire, student,
Form: Bio