Set your pace to grace,
A metamorphosis is taking place,
Changing the view on space,
Breaking the barrier we face,
We evolve the human race,
The chase has begun,
Embrace the new season,
The reason you're here,
Don't run from fear,
That's the clear sign,
You're aligned,
Designing your destination,
Destiny truly a narration,
Use your imagination,
The creation station,
Always in transformation,
As information builds the new,
On top of what you already knew,
The view becoming askew,
Queuing in change,
Rearranging the projection,
To fit the current perception,
The conception of a new way to be,
Seeing you in every body,
Muddy water starts to settle,
As we meddle with what's around,
Learning to ground our vessel,
Nestled safely in place,
Erasing an old way of being,
Seeing the change coming soon,
I've already changed my tune,
An opportunity to set the pace,
With forgiveness and grace.
Daisy danced the wild dance of jealousy
Her dancing was her revenge weaponry
She did the can-can
To excite her man
Whom she had caught enjoying revelry.
She had been queuing at the bar for drinks
When suddenly Daisy had an instinct
She turned and what shock
He was in lip-lock
And most certainly enjoying high jinks.
So she danced, for her man was a loser
Should have left the alien much sooner
Her Dear John letter
Said she'd done better
And found herself a huge hearted bruiser.
*This poem will make more sense to Americans
who watched t.v. in the 1970’s
TIC TAC TOE
the board real tidy. today Tiger would hold
together the family photo. how old the queuing.
surely the Brady six hated tic tac toe -
the anniversary cake blows
the squares, it’s centerfold - Borgnine, Lynde
and Rivers. family full of puzzling fun,
riveting answers. Alice lines them up -
his and her kids, girls on one side, boys
on the other, mom and dad, and plops
herself in the middle, as an inclusion.
delusional housekeeper dates Sam the butcher.
braces and nose job…Marcia…Marcia…Marcia
singing group, house of cards, a charm bracelet.
Tiger’s a thief. Kitty Carryall, his beef.
blame Bobby. Jan gets revenge by sneezing.
sneezing…sneezing…sneezing, sends
the dog away. “in what state was Lincoln born?”
Lynde’s square lit up. He grabs hold of his muse:
“like all of us naked and screaming.” sardonic
tic, tac, toe vibrations of Uncle Arthur’s laugh.
QUEUING THE DOING
Who would care what people write
It’s what they really do that matters
Despite the fancy poetic metaphors
Nor thinking it may give one pause
Fearing one’s words are all in tatters
Actually, it’s self-delusion and trite
Who might care what people think
In deference to those that really do
Private thoughts have little traction
Unless they’re translated into action
Which can achieve a different view
It’s better than a mere nod and wink
Who then can care what people say
Lots of babble, meaning very little
An action speaks louder than a word
Whatever may have been inferred
The spoken word can die in hospital
But if whispered, they just blow away
When the dead become insane
The tramps the down, the ill-arranged
The junkies burning over flames
The fools who couldn’t be renamed
Where do they go to shoot the light
Eat the bread
Kill the night
The times are changing
Tells you on every wall
Don’t expect to be caught
When you jump, get pushed, or fall
The tickets gone my friend
Like the train that didn’t depart
Start queuing up for the next life
Can the hospital have your heart
You’ll have to be quick my friend
The man on the bridge has got a head start.
Shop bells tinkling from eight 'til late
queuing customers having to wait;
Thursday,closing at noon
opportunity to court and spoon.
Collection boxes built into walls,
gossiping ladies in their shawls;
Bells pealing on the hour,
drays pulled by one horse power.
Factory hooters' blowing
Morning cockrels' crowing;
Cycle bells a-ringing,
Provisions from vans' a-bringing.
It barely vanquishes my quenchless spirit of inquiry.
To what exactly reason have I sledded so wildly?
Boasters and swindlers sprang up a treaty vigorously.
People are queuing to sway slated on a promontory.
It's plodding to incite thugs by misleading people.
Your genuine assertion is both witless and guileful.
By discerning purport, you may be pioneering.
As though a doleful mistrust was typically unfurling.
Why is it crucial to recur an idyllic shade?
It's time to hoard the dart and glittering blade.
Valorous braves are slogging toward the staid.
Everlasting zest is not a squib and never fades.
Yet we must swither in waging truth and moral virtue.
Truth and equity can't alter insight on specific bestow.
Written: December 24, 2021
Some say there are aliens living on the frontiers of space
Who've traveled beyond the boundaries of the known universe
Gotten very near the gates of heaven, spoken face to face
With God in their extraordinary tongue, engaged in commerce
Potentially, of course, since we've not met either of the two
Taking extreme care associating for better or worse
With these alien beings from afar, lest they run us through.
But we have lots of dealings with God, who created it all,
Swearing by all that's holy we give the Almighty his due
Still, somewhere from the reaches of our minds we often recall
The possibility these strange aliens we talk about
Are queuing up on the right side, are standing near heaven's hall
If that is the case, perhaps, we are flirting with harmful doubt
We should expend more effort getting to know those with the clout.
Written April 25, 2021
King of the Jungle
Queuing with my homies
Houdinis every one.
No sharpened tongues, but scissors,
To calm the shaggy throng
Not all blokes in this queue,
Despite lockdown's grooming blooper,
As I stand here and review,
Will contest my Bradley Cooper
Alas, Delilah wins.
It's time to shave my greying locks
Hirsute-less head, Yul Brynner,
Now the look my ego rocks
Now a simple peasant
With falling dreams, so vain.
No more the Isolation King
With glorious flowing mane..
My crowning jewel.
Majestic theft!
The jungle cries, her heart bereft..
As gothic curls now hit the floor;
The swooning fans will be no more
And yet..
Enthroned here, buys me precious time..
To formulate this simple rhyme
And meditate upon what's passed
As hairy shoes I have amassed.
I dwell on more important things
While scissors snap, and clipper sings
Of friendship. Love.
Of breathing air.
Despite the loss of debonaire..
The blessing of recaptured choices.
The privilege of freedom's voices.
And now my head, so strangely free;
Reminds of who I'm meant to be.
Jinjagoliath
13th April 2021
On an empty page, my quill
Does not sit to quench
Its thirst to lessen this quandary
To let, nay make, quintessential
Inroads, biding thy quiver
Of lexiconical bolts; queuing
And firing forthwith rousingly formed quips
Onto this pulpy papery quilt
Begat by thy mind & soul; quoth
I, the Poeter, set to quicken
One’s pace upon the barren quagmires
Of this regimented delineation of the exalted quatrain
Without the rigmarole to produce
Each line with, a notion of being abstruse
Nor, being meant to infer being obtuse
Or, to take a step back and be a communicatory recluse
A piece de resistance for the ruminating
Ilk, step forward with grandeur; minds & souls; scintillating.
Leaping light in dull darkness
Moonlight mambo in nightfall nets
Mediative minds in spurring spaces
Vocal visions in vacant vicinities
Enlightened eyes in doubtful decisions
Queuing quietness in spooky serenities
Peaceful presence in rambunctious reality
Bill’s cucumbers grew long and hard
Nuns queued up for them in his yard
‘Twas their weekly treat…
They were not to eat
I’ll finish here… or I’ll get barred!
08/12/20
Why does the sheep follow the wolf to hell
in this bat soup they all want a taste of communism
let's stick the needle into your arms and take control
When the train pulls up the track people are queuing for hours
they chant songs of freedom thinking they are safe
there is no cure for such blind arrogance
dangling the strings many carrots become attached
It's like fishing with an invisible bait called the cure
this virus is just the beginning shape shifting into darkness
lucky for some there is light at the end of this tunnel
Because when certain laws are passed in times of chaos
within those that are in breach of democracy
the fool will be caught in the wool like a tick
a creature of habit always craves innocent blood
N.I.G.G.E.R (Nigeria Is God's Greatest Enunciated Race)
On the road to Africa lies riches & diamond rings,
In the land of green & white & green,
The men with "three eyes" are kings,
Raising above sickening sins that stinks
And becoming a god without God investigating,
Corporate Merriment on the day of their joy
Though we're questioning & vexing.
We're Unforsaken but a 'chosen generation,
A royal priesthood, an holy nation'
(Though could be unholy in her approach sometimes),
Beauty & power laudest in our ovation,
A land of brown sands, blood & brine,
Riches & undying hope in its prime,
Queuing vehicles & praying hands
To lend our spirit, soul & body wholly
Like ghost to trouble joy, we tell the story;
Eyes gaze at the pilot stars
Calculating our abundance & scattered equations.
So let's swear an oath
On the highest mountains & hills
Like starved whores on pills,
Like gods careless of mankind under their eyes,
That greatness will be a reality someday,
And like lost treasures from a capsized ship
Nature shall wash your shells where this land lies
And it shall breed saviours of our kind.
VickWizzy
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright © 2017
I
I used the brown wheat flour from ten days ago
Made my own bread, chapati or Indian roti
'cause I will not stand in lines for food anymore
My students heard the advice: raise some food, veggies
Twice now, I picked "wild spinach" that made great dinners
II
At our supermarkets, we're spreading germs galore
Queuing two hours before, then latecomers push hard
When doors open, bodies and germs mix in furor
Why isolate, then queue without police presence
To enforce social distancing, but not for food?
III
Nations stop the travelers flying ... riding in
Good, but there are the food-store weak spots - "virus lines"
One would think we would know this, from Christmas madness
How much more now, when shoppers come from far and wide
As sheep we need The Rod and Staff, the State must see!
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