Demagogue not pedagogue
Aghast & agog
Perfidious insidious fog
Reeks of the past
Slog through the smog
Musk seeks to flog
Earth & its serfs
Downed & drowned
In his dystopian bog
Even starry nights
Elon’s neon satellites
Seedier media perch
Utter nutter besmirch
Thriving in the gutter
Conniving depriving church
Vex "X" & Tech T-Rex hex
Or next bogus Rogan
Bogan slogans prevails
Alpha male tales derails
Sod the planet’s scars
Cruise trips to Mars
Odd bod driverless cars
Spawn a fake Tarantino
Remake.."Musk till Dawn"
Devil may care lair..
Loads of lies..skies chock a block
With spies...all eyes on the prize
Everyone Everything Everywhere dies
Let's not parley with gnarly snarly
Musk...takes the mickey & the bicky
In the dock for running amok
Time guys he did finally own up
To being as grown up..
As a Farley’s Rusk (a British biscuit/bicky for a wee kiddy)
Categories:
rusk, confusion, corruption, hate,
Form: Rhyme
Before The Day Turned Into Night
Sun is down on shimmering glow.
Soon intensity to turn low.
Day light to lose brightness, slow.
Gloomy evening next to follow.
Setting Sun welcoming twilight.
Sunrays tend to fade, no more bright.
With darkness day light starting fight
before the day turned into night.
Day light has completed its task.
Already wearing misty mask
now encompassing dusty dusk.
Relishing evening tea chewing rusk.
At end of day, me to lament
for bygone days : those lost moments !
Categories:
rusk, day, night,
Form: Quatorzain
I tag them incidents
With no strict precedents:
A Hater-of-Elephant-Admirer-of-Tusk
A Critic-of-Perfume-User-of-Musk:
An Attacker-of-Night-Walks-Lover-of Dusk
A Consumer of Corn Teaser of Husk
An Enemy of Flour Friend of Rusk …
Also, who nightly tasks handle
But never bothered to near a candle
And A Class of Eaters of Mutton,
For more asking by touching their shirt button.
Categories:
rusk, analogy, education, people, perspective,
Form: Rhyme
Over breakfast of tea, cheese and rusk,
I mused on the great guy, Elon Musk.
Faced with shoddy service
We shout, losing our bliss
And forget before day turns to dusk.
He’d buy the bad service
Lose none of precious peace,
Not in core, truth today lies in husk.
____________________________________
Happenings (Tongue-in-cheek) |08.04.2022|
Poet’s note: How great is it to be Elon Musk, the richest man on Earth! Faced with bad service, feeling helpless we shout on phone, an impotent cry. But Musk would think of buying up all of the business with bad service! That is what he did with Tweeter for a few billions in cash! Some billionaires can live in a glass house and throw stones as well.
Categories:
rusk, humor,
Form: Limerick
The Summer is slowly passing, and the green is dying,
The garden of flowers loses its color,
The white storks, slowly, slowly are being lost in the heights,
Tomorrow's world will be much duller.
The scent of the flower perishes in steam at dusk,
It smells like a dried, baked rusk.
In grandparent's yard, under the beam, a deserted nest,
already misses the cheerful swallow.
Up, on the house's chimney, one stork, almost lost,
looks around melancholy for the last time.
From the mountain's sheepfold to the village,
the longing shepherds descend with their sheep.
Caterpillars wreak havoc on the orchard,
Orderly, the good soldiers set out on their crusade.
A small leaf cries, scared of falling
under the strength of the wind.
The old trees are more and more troubled,
Yesterday they were full of life. Today they are rusty and tired.
The evening is coming earlier, and the sun is getting sadder,
A cricket "guitarist" is grieving.
The rain is getting colder, and the clouds are getting grayer,
The vast plains are dry, burned, withered.
From the hill, The Autumn slowly walks down towards the valley,
It's on the way, for sure. There's no other way!
Categories:
rusk, autumn, feelings, september,
Form: Free verse
Sight seeks
Prized peak
Apt aim
Rich reins
Kind keep
Love leaps
Etch each
Sense space
Prompt pace
Aim aye
Rich rays
Knave knows
Laughs low
Etch flow
Sweet spice
Primes price
Apt ask
Ripe rusk
Keep keen
Lines lean
Etch in
Leon Enriquez
29 March 2020
Singapore
Categories:
rusk, allusion,
Form: Alliteration
If a star appears would be to much to ask it real
A dark side of red amber light shield of rusk
Darken the shade reflect of pain what is of ambition to strike
If telekinesis was real and chakra was more then energy what
Word
Would be able to describe a figure?
Like glass shallow to the effect of time what moment hold of
Truth to search for reason?
Not all cause and effect start with a big bang
But with all similar question
Answers all do evolve.
Categories:
rusk, art, love,
Form: Dramatic Verse
if love was the shackle of humanity how would one illustration
The pulse, the beat and cause and effect of sure a
Phenomenon would one point this way?
Laughter ache movement turns what turn a false it to
Tilt water so simply
If we are to confess if we are to consume
How does the water movement in conjunction or
Loss values often moves
Turn of century rise of a moon a off and on switch
Does it happen over night or revolt to a new conclusion
Then how did one off spring come to matter
A turn or a smirk how does it make one feel
Is feeling a lack of emotion or lack of professing
Who am one to judge or deem to dismiss
Honor or glory capture for a year man or chump who claim
Such glory passion or rusk does it ring a bell but at the end of a
Battle who is deem a winner what lesson has been
Told or point for point discrete.
Categories:
rusk, art, love,
Form: Free verse
Summer’s golden blade does thrust
its effervescent golden musk,
and into wheaten fields’ did trust,
a volley of ethereal rust,
caught by tempered, evening gust
Cart and horse they trot out forth,
spilling damsels, on the stones,
clouds and mayfly drift off north,
bees for nectar send out drones,
later, honey over scones
Weary orchestra of light,
dips its day that comes to dusk,
all’s not well that ends in night
spins the web, the prisoner’s husk,
spider drinks the tasty rusk
And when the season’s hunting horn,
cries the chase to fox in den,
master, hound and prey forlorn,
skip by waltzing weazels ten;
like scented breeze, on watery fen
Written for English Quintain contest 15/8/15
Categories:
rusk, england, imagery,
Form: Quintain (English)
I said to long ship of life,
Watch for strife,
And the splatter of besmirched blood,
Left stark in dry mud.
Some will plunder there,
Expecting nothing fair,
But a wisp of hysteria and despair,
That people need beware.
If I alone shall fail to rise,
Or have opened eyes,
Be it dreadful that I may die without grace,
Seeing no splendour to embrace.
Hard it is to find the joy,
As a crick may annoy,
Leaving one tormented and grey,
With every strain felt I say.
And I say more to you,
My ship of bamboo:
Not brittle, breakable or ever ailing,
Yet you're there quite alarming.
I cannot dance your quick steps,
For they're truly complex,
Life there has me bound in chains,
Marooned in melancholy pains.
I'm rotting from the inside,
In that there's no pride,
Piece by piece it rips me apart,
This life it will tumble in art.
If I could just drape my sad life
And be rid of its every strife,
Saying, I'd create a slick beginning,
Bearing no cross of rage willing.
This life that I did wreak,
It still was unique,
Thus I mourn its tragic passing,
As I dip a rusk in blue stuffing.
Categories:
rusk, dark, life,
Form: Rhyme
What is my best physical feature,
I look in the mirror and all I see is a sea creature.
Is it me bald head I ask?
But when is see me face it looks like a week old rusk.
No
Uh! Me lips
No, no, they look like half chewed chips.
Mmmm! Could be… me eyes
Na! they look like sad mud pies
It’s got to be me lovely slim legs
Nope they sound like two swordsmen have a fight or like tent pegs
May be.. me height
I’ll asked me wife, “If it wasn’t for your body and your face you’d be alright.”
Well there it is me best feature
A sea creature
Categories:
rusk, funnyme, sea, me, sea,
Form: Rhyme