Come to Now, brothers, and how!
Firewood after dark.
Compliments, O sacred cow!
Fling and flicker stark.
Could be, O my sages.
Riddles wrought in rhyme.
Time, bequeath thy ages!
Prime o'er Soul? Sublime.
Tapping on the clipboard?
Fingernail or pen?
Dragon, will ye guard thy hoard?
Fennel, fire, and fen...
Oblique? Carelessness, critique?
Frequency, catch flame!
Will the strong succor the weak?
If they want food, claim.
Catch up on thy sleep? Dig deep.
Cross the boneyard? Creep.
Preparation! Want to weep?
Stack behind the heap!
Present in the moment?
It's better that ye be.
Rebellions to foment?
Sink foemen in the sea.
Wind, rattle the weathervane!
Let the boy explain?
Yes, before we toss in main!
After a spring rain!
Educate for poppies?
Dreamers, why wile away?
Fish for gold or crappies?
O for, some sunny day.
Fright or plight? Best be polite?
Doom and dynamite!
Gods of death, thy dun delight!
Lone in line of sight...
Oh Lord, hear this prayer!
Not for my party winning.
Not for fattening my wallet.
Not for riding my hobby horse.
Not for idolizing my sacred cow.
But for your divine wisdom to prevail.
Oh Lord, hear this prayer!
Open our blinded eyes.
Open our eyes to truth.
Open our eyes to justice.
Open our eyes to goodness.
Open our eyes to humility.
Open our eyes to honor.
Open our eyes to mercy.
Open ALL of our eyes.
Let it not be too late.
(See also my related poems “The 2023rd Psalm” and “How Would Jesus Vote?”
I vow to silence the whispers of my heart
No longer will emotions drive my pen.
I'll write from reason, all there at the start
Let words flow furiously like an angry stream.
Should I write a heartbreaking poem
They’ll read in joy, marvel at my art
As though, it lay bear, my heart, on the slaughter
Others will pray for more misery as if it was meant to bleed.
Should I compose a breathing sonnet
Her nagging voice will rise to tear it down
Finding fault in every Mona Lisa’s smile
Pointing sharp fingers when a light skinned's mentioned.
If on politics, the sacred cow, I dare to write
Many will frown, calling it a fool’s debate.
They'll build their walls, deem me the enemy
Not knowing I was just writing for fun.
Daily, I see injustice parade through halls
And the walls of our places of work
If I dare to write of this parade
I’ll be the one who bites the feeding hand.
So I'll fold my thoughts, tuck my truths away
As I thread lightly on this worn, thin path.
I’ll keep my silence, put my emotions in check
While I still collect my monthly cheque.
Who knew the exact time and how
The day came for my play's final bow?
The span was compact
I ran for just one act
The encore - now as sacred cow
Like Job, I’ve known what is right and wrong,
And I try to take the view that is long.
Though I’m not perfect, I do fear God,
(Which, in modern times, does seem odd).
But what is God, I ask you now?
A burning bush? A sacred cow?
Or is God simply an advanced being,
Who seems all-knowing and all-seeing?
If God sees everything everywhere,
Am I important? Does He care?
Or is my lifeline a script I follow
In His program filled with joys and sorrows?
If so, are all my tribulations
Part of His computer simulations?
Though these thoughts make me weary,
They keep me guessing and God-fearing.
Can marrying Lydia
Be a good idea
Or one to shrug off
And from her keep off?
Lydia would men ride
In her Giant Pride;
Not blinking her eyes
Drop them chosen lies:
“From parched lands heard ‘squelch’;
Beer drinkers don’t belch!”
Is shunning Lydia
A Male Coward’s fear?
Her eyes on India
Like it should be “Now!”
She a sacred cow;
You to not ask “Why?”
For she shall still try!
What you and I eat
What you and I eat
We would at times heat
To killer germs beat:
With fire foes greet;
The Waiting in Wheat!
What you and I Eat
Strength obliges our feet:
Sportsmen who eye feat
Record still Plain Sheet.
When fail we to eat,
We could like sheep bleat
Shiver as during sleet.
And cooks die to meet
Dismissing evil and good
Upright and smiling he stood;
Materialistically modern in mood
Filled full with rationalist food;
Denying inherent sin
Liberally enlighten within.
Dismissing evil and good
Puffed-up self approving he stood
Pursuing illusory appeal
With academic assumptions so unreal;
Denying inherent sin
So liberally enlightened within.
Dismissing evil and good
All-seeing,all-knowing he stood;
An idealistic ego
Coupled his elitist credo
Denying inherent sin
Liberally enlightened within.
Until a September morn
When his teachings lay shattered
Tattered,torn and forlorn;
One fell blow sacrificed his sacred cow
Leaving him,his philosophy
Just nowhere to go.
A RESPONSE
(Written Sept 2001 ) Year Posted 2007
Death bubbles by
in such a sorrowful state.
A snowflake melting
in the midst of life.
A rusty knife
the tip of which protrudes
to make a third nipple.
Creating nary a ripple
in the scheme of things.
Which brings us to an impasse.
Unobstructed,
Our methodology measures
the in-constitute and volatile breaking of sound?
One cup sound; two cups shatter,
an eardrum rapidly boiled.
Why would it matter?
Death rattles by
Cough Cough choking on
his chopstick nun-chuck
glory road to Hell.
Did I say for whom the bell
tolls now?
Did I mention that it’s NOT
some sacred cow?
Be silly-still and listen
to the feeling of guilt
Measure your Mayonnaise Days
with Infinite Care
dollops of sweetness
filling you up to the hilt
A Fruitcake Day
in the ordinary life
of an insect.
You made a lot of promises and vows
As much sincerity as Chairman Mao
But fools like me do believe
Drunk like a New Year’s Eve
Broken faith betrayed by a sacred cow
Dismissing evil and good
Upright and smiling he stood;
Materialistically modern in mood
Filled full with rationalist food;
Denying inherent sin
Liberally enlighten within.
Dismissing evil and good
Puffed-up self approving he stood
Pursuing illusory appeal
With academic assumptions so unreal;
Denying inherent sin
So liberally enlightened within.
Dismissing evil and good
All-seeing,all-knowing he stood;
An idealistic ego
Coupled his elitist credo
Denying inherent sin
Liberally enlightened within.
Until a September morn
When his teachings lay shattered
Tattered,torn and forlorn;
One fell blow sacrificed his sacred cow
Leaving him,his philosophy
Just nowhere to go.
(Written Sept 2001 )
Dismissing evil and good
Upright and smiling he stood;
Materialistically modern in mood
Filled full with rationalist food;
Denying inherent sin
Liberally enlighten within.
Dismissing evil and good
Puffed-up self approving he stood
Pursuing illusory appeal
With academic assumptions so unreal;
Denying inherent sin
So liberally enlightened within.
Dismissing evil and good
All-seeing,all-knowing he stood;
An idealistic ego
Coupled his elitist credo
Denying inherent sin
Liberally enlightened within.
Until a September morn
When his teachings lay shattered
Tattered,torn and forlorn;
One fell blow sacrificed his sacred cow
Leaving him,his philosophy
Just nowhere to go.
There's Too Much Death!
It seems to me. I hate to say,
Man's death inhabits World today!
The loving die! The 'Right To Life,'
Make Earth a hell! They skewer, knife
All Truth more difficult to trash,
Their souls find joy in what they crash!
'Lies' flourish here, they're life's new green,
What's 'beauty' now, once called 'obscene.'
Few care these days! Does future hold
Just entertainment? Let's be bold
And call the Devil by his name,
Let 'No-Trump' rule, where 'Spade' seeks fame!
Our president's now Satan's host!
Love Commies, Fascists more than most!
Draws Racists to his side as well,
And Pedophiles, Trump says they're "swell,"
(They share their toys!) He married child
He met that way! "Hey! Kids are wild!"
The Holy Ghost's more faded now,
Republicans love "Sacred Cow!"
And they won't parse Trump's words at all,
"We're not to judge; God makes that call!"
But if opponent's Democrat,
These frauds will swear, “Truth's on the mat!”
Brian Johnston
10th of July in 2019
RECIPE: “Poulet Roti” French Style - Ballade “Le Chant Royal” - 10
STANZA IX
Snubbed by Churchill, de Gaulle’s June 18th appeal
Saves not crushed Rouen, Paris to liberate
Triumphant Le Clerc hurries after ordeal
Did not Liberation make Resistants great
Nazi Chief’s deaf ear lets not Hitler burn Paris
Do the sacred cow Resistants scorn hubris
“Now e’en Presidents fear veteran Police!”
Ditto whole appareil judiciaire en lice!
Not till the last of veteran Combatants
Take Bastille Day’s Arc de Triomphe honoured place
Nor till Allied Forces be hailed true Conquérants?
ENVOI
Overnight the mother serves as plaything nice
For lawyers judges politicos police
All Free-Masons none resist as Resistants
No place for father and son in such premise
Nor till Allied Forces be hailed true Conquérants?
(c) T. Wignesan - Paris, 2017
Irreverence the sacred cow of The Realist the TRUTH will slay your motto and all flying spaghetti monsters the TRUTH will set you free, really who’s laughing now, I say it is God but He has no pleasure in death of the wicked Ask Him while you can, He cannot deny Himself
End your war now decades gone
join again, relented brawn
plant once more your dirt less lawn
holstered arms yet never drawn
Brotherhood mesh in faux glove
family pride hangs black above
leave that hawk embrace that dove
homeless now, there is no love
Unknowing knowledge all this time
what they stole it was a crime
used again, your only dime
the inner scars won’t heal with time
The dust blows bleak upon your face
helpless strong you are disgrace
salvation is a different place
no to puppies no to lace
Choice it lays before you now
be one of, but have to bow
or loneliest like Andy’s Mao
sacrificed, a sacred cow
One adrift with separate pride
the other with a desperate bride
both will set you far aside
from that boy that never lied
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