Rig Poems | Examples

Death of a Dream

KISSES...From the UNITED STATES...of HATE!

Only Some are Welcome...Don't get SORE!

We BRAG! and We Wave our FLAG!,

But...WE..Forgot What ..IT!...STOOD FOR!

The LAND of the FREE? The HOME of the BRAVE?

But...the List is short ..Who They Choose to SAVE!

We ALL...Break our BACKS!...For LOVE of COUNTRY!

YOU...GERRYMANDER...And RIG our COUNTY!

YOU...Prey on Our ANGST!, YOU...Prey on Our RAGE!

YOU...Put US in LINES...That's Wrapped in a CAGE!

WE...whimper and wilt÷...Just like a whipped pup...

YOU...Rake in the CA$H...and Divvy It UP^

IMMIGRANTS have COME...IMMIGRANTS have TRIED!

IMMIGRANTS have BLED...IMMIGRANTS have DIED!

But, Lest YE Forget...WE just Thought YE KNEW!

YOU ARE A PRODUCT...OF IMMIGRANTS TOO!!!

Be Yourself and Everyone Else is Taken

Be yourself and everyone else is taken 
What you find cut from ownself?
Everyone in their own too fallen,
But it's better than lose own relief.


The world is too much big 
Then you think, you be else,
Man pretty in his own rig
If wear good but other's, it's conclude false.

The wills and thoughts are free
The all you see in own are yours,
But try to become like else,be as a tree
Scientifically lives but not lives in own dress.

Living beings the best in their own 
If someone posses them it's slave grown.

Mr Mustard Comes Tonight

Rig rag
Shaggy rag
Rip, rip, rip,
Wrinkle in the water
A wilder whisper
Crepuscular crème brûlée.

What is madness really?
Have I not a wordly thought?
Wordly jumble,
Words, words, words,
Coherent as a Dostoevsky mumble. 
Musing wrists and elbows in a swaddle,
Up of green and purple trumpets, 
Sickly technicolour cuddle.

Circadian bunny pudding.
Hullo, there it is again!
I saw it there, just there!
Did not. But so I did!

I’m not mad, I saw it there.
A rig rag shaggy rag?
No, not that.
You did not see it — no. 
It’s gone now — half a moment.
Is it there? The level jelly?
Come with us, dearie. 

Cuddle cuddle,
Jelly swaddle. 
Sleep a day or nine. 
Till it wears off, the custard killer.
Mr. Mustard comes tonight.

Thirty Knots an Hour

         His very bones smell of ocean
            beard lashed with its salt
         On land, rubber legs awkward
             he gapes and he gawks

         But rig him up a mast 
             billowy sails to go with it
         Prow boldly juts forward ~
             Thirty knots an hour, his ticket

Lost

Since long ago, in this cold world, 
I feel I don't belong.
I'm here and there in corners curled.
It is so strange and wrong.

     Repressed memories, you say?
     I can't remember, Doctor. 
     I'm trying to remember who I am,
     but I just hear an endless country song.
 
Not ready for this place so big, 
I am alone and lost.
Still driving in that lonely rig
in the grim land I've crossed.

     She was pulled from my reaching hand, 
     among shouted instructions and screams 
     by cruel men in uniforms.  
     They left me and Teddy alone.

Among the fake, your voice so true
can do this boy no harm.
I never have forgotten you.  
I long for your two arms.

Where Are They Now?

In this country

	Politicians line their pockets from back-door deals
	Sports figures kneel with raised fist, and protest our flag
	Hollywood celebrities exclaim they will leave our country
	Silicon Valley tramples on free-speech norms
	Corporate elites rig systems to transfer wealth

and live more royally than kings of yore, while

Children hunger
	for food
	for love
	for protection from abuse

Where are the marchers,
the protesters with cardboard placards
funded by big money,

Declaring that these,
the youngest of us
have a right to a life?

That simply being born
is not enough?

	Where are those God-fearing pickets?

Holiday Fun

Frosty the snowman needed therapy.
There's a problem with my olfactory.
No matter what scent wafts by,
Or what cologne that I try,
It's only carrots I smell, don't you see?


There once was an elf by the name of Zig.
Who, unlike the rest of the elves, grew big!
Rather than stay and not fit, 
He stowed on the sleigh and split!
Now Big Ziggy the elf drives a big rig!


The snowman just didn't know what to do...
He was so afraid of catching the flu!
His carrot nose in the way, 
And the mask just wouldn't stay, 
So to make ears, he broke his nose in two!

Crib In I

I think his iris is timid in sight,
Find him his cig, its light.
Its lit tip is in its crib,
I did right to fight with his timid skin in sight.
Sight this lid, I dig, I did.
His nick is with him in his crib,
I hit his crib with him with light.
It is in rid if its rig, I didn’t dig, I didn’t.
Light is sick.
Whip is sick.
Nick is light.
His is right.
I’m in with his right,
With its light in his crib.
Big, big, big hits is right by light.
Lid, lid, lid,
I’m with this crib.

Crystal Ship

On the balcony of a hilltop home near Santa Barbara California, late, on a warm, clear summer night, forty years ago, looking out over the ocean, with good friends, after hours of partying,  stars twinkled in the black sky, and lights twinkled on an offshore oil rig rumored to be the inspiration for The Doors song, the Crystal Ship.  We all just stared, one of us saying, that's The Crystal Ship.  

alone, together
vast sea and infinite skies
twinkles in our eyes

Deliver Us From Evil

Overcome by hurricane or tornado?
Ran over by a train or a big rig?
Will I be flooded over or burned out?
Avalanche or mudslide? Which will it be?

A friend boarded a plane when close to 80.
He was afraid of dying in a plane crash.
Some years prior to his first flight,
I said to him, "We are all going to die".
His reply? "But I will not die in a plane".

Sometimes, we are able to choose our way of death.
Sometimes, unfortunately, all of our choices are evil.
Sometimes, we have no choice but to pick our poison.
When such is the case, our best choice is to pray,
"LORD, DELIVER US FROM EVIl. AMEND".

092724PS

Damp world weeping

I rig a dream to fill it with all the anguish 
my heart has felt in a damp world always weeping.

My worn coat hangs in a closet, its arms empty,
like winter branches sighing, their damp world weeping.

A yearning to run, an inhale of rain, I yield
to a vulture of shadows weeping in damp worlds.

In the silhouette, a scared animal picks its
infant away in gray snow, its damp world weeping.

Under the surface of water, a turtle’s shell
ripples slick and obsidian, its damp world weeping.

I need to touch and feel rich testaments of joy
my emotions not derailed in damp worlds weeping.


@jjote 090624

Don't Forget What They've Taken From You - V

V.
It used to be understood that
people were pretty safe,
that our streets and our neighborhoods
weren’t a dangerous place,
that you could let your kids go out
and they’d come back alive,
that we had good law enforcement,
security to thrive.
But now they coddle criminals,
help them get out early,
our cities have become failed states
of crime, drugs, and feces.
Worse yet is they’re importing them,
illegals in cruel gangs,
handing out money to the thugs
who probably should hang.
It seems a week doesn’t go by
we don’t see migrant crime,
people murdered and women raped,
it happens all the time.
Whole apartments taken over,
the tenants extorted,
by people your leaders let in
so they could get ahead,
all of it just to rig the vote
so they alone can win,
no problem with condemning you
to a future quite grim.
Your life has no meaning to them,
they’ll gladly leave you screwed,
see the evil and don’t forget
what was taken from you.

i hope one day i get the opportunity to flee on horseback

i ordered at the bar in archbishop's rig

two pork sausages
baked beans
strawberry bear fruit snack
orange juice
meat free burger
r white's raspberry lemonade
bangers and mash
pepsi 
corn wheels 
hotdog 
peppercorn sauce
one wobbly sausage sandwich

on returning to my table
i overheard the barman 
'a fool he was, a fool he'll always be'.

Stormbound

Gaze out to sea upon blown rig and sail
  in our fright’s strand on stormwatch to the south,
heed the mighty whirlwind, its scything trail -
  Galleon’s Passage to the Serpent’s Mouth.
See the bended trees on coconut row
  when lightning fork flashing turns night to day -
let it sunder, let it rage, let it blow
  across river and swamp in Cocos Bay.
When away are cattle jittery led
  and heron, egret, crane, and frigate bird
take flight for cover when all else have fled
  till a cockcrow at early dawn is heard.
When eerie is the billfish feeding ground
and missing are the pelicans stormbound.


             Written: July 1996


             Trinidad & Tobago.

Coming Home

Somewhere, long ago, I found myself in this world.
Since then, I've been here and there, or in corners, curled. 
I feel that I'm an intruder.  I don't belong. 
Nothing can be fathomed.  It's confusing, strange and wrong. 
I long for the day when I'll be coming home. 

I've never been ready for this place.  It's too big.  
On this long, rolling road, I drive a lonely rig. 
Everywhere I've been, I feel so alone and lost. 
Everything is transient in this land I've crossed,  
but there's a place for me, and I'll be coming home. 

Amongst the fake, I've always heard your voice that's true -  
sometimes gentle, sometimes strong, I've not forgotten you. 
Your intonations find me, in you there is no harm.
Pull me to your bosom and hold me in your arms.
Mother Earth, I'm returning to your fertile loam.
I won't leave you again, your baby's coming home.

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