Short Effigy Poems

Trees wave to the moon
welcoming her effigy
on the rock... she grin...

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H   A   R   S   H
B   L   E   A    K
T   R   E   E   S
R   E   G   A   L
S   T   I   L   L...

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Scarecrow
Scary, sinister
Swaying, twisting, grasping
An ominous man-like caricature
Effigy...

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Is your ear corrupted
by what you see
Are the sounds distorted
in blind relief
Do the voices sleep
in images gone
Does a nightmare deafen
—tomorrow’s song 

(Dreamsleep: April, 2023)...

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build me an effigy
red brick stone
one brick alone
a tear
a sorrow
a wall
built to contain
a soul maimed
build me a pyre
gold covered relief
a smooth curved bowl
made to hold my soul
set it afire
with belief (c)mjr 2007...

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Effigy is a crude figure representing a hated person

Trump has been called an example of bigamy,
Which is why we want to hang him in effigy;
Terrible  singer;
Real humdinger;
Record broke when we had heard his eulogy.

Jim Horn...

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Time…fan this raging fire.
I'm lost, flames climbing higher.
I need you here beside me,
temperature rising inside.
Burning in effigy,
riding high on the tide, 
quenching the desire.
Time…fan this raging fire. 

August 8, 2013 cghjr...

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groupthink likes word games                                                                                         the unwritten history                                                                                           rectification...

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Susan B. Anthony...an American "Suffragist" 
And also,  "Civil Rights Activist" 
For her, luckily 
Though she was hung, it was only in effigy! 


Educate Me With Humor-Leader Clerihew Poetry Contest 
Sponsor Andrea Dietrich 
1-24-2019...

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My soul remembers you in effigy
A beautiful portrait of despair
Wrecking havoc on those whose eyes dare not open
Shattering the fragile bones on which the words were curved
A vignette, much like a siren's song
I will not look, I will not or else I will be ... 
Lost...

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The past is but a distant flame,
with reasons there disowned

Where fire burns in effigy,
to singe that falsely known

The ages but a candle dim,
its wick burned to the quick

As torches rage from deep within
—all time a kindling stick

(Dreamsleep: March, 2020)...

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Fire alarms sieze me by the tongue
And they show me the way that I can burn
Electrical sparks ignite electronic flames
And my output of saliva is the battery
Program the inferno 
Douse it with water to make it spread
You’re the arsonist, an insentient machine
I’m America's effigy...

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their solutions are ready 
but are made of plastic
not even enough sand for glass
Christ was born of homorphadite 
and was bread on fish and wheat
they hung him on a tree
to make an effigy
they spilt his blood 
and took a drink
so of the son of man
they missed his point I think...

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As fireworks fill the night sky with light,
they gather round the crackling flames,
the effigy of Guy Fawkes 
a pleasure to behold
on top the bonfire.
Such fun for all -
but it sucks 
to be
'Guy'!

written 6th November for Andrea's November Nonet contest (about Guy Fawkes' Day)....

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“It’s hard to eat shit, without having visions,
 & when they have eyes for me it’s Heaven.”
    ~ Allen Ginsberg, “Malest Cornifici Tuo Catullo” (1955)

Begone bland corporate effigy
Woman bearing
Little
Hint of satisfied smile
Thank God
There were no good old days
    ~ Thanks always returns...

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Everyone cheered as the fire was lit
And innocent laughter surrounded the Guy’s pyre;
As crackling flames engulfed the stuffed figure sitting on top of it,
A hedgehog hibernating below, in the heaped dead leaves and briar,
Did not survive the children’s bonfire.

Guy – an effigy of Guy Fawkes burnt on 5th November...

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A cello played
 somewhere in the background,
 some somber, durable tones and color,
 invoking prayer, calm, contemplation, remembrance;
a string effigy
 solemn, melancholic dreams
 calling to mind
 the search for more than what is seen;
a play on notes
 of time and memory
 of hope and promises
 of what may yet be.
...

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I pressed a barb
under my tongue
to remind me

I pierced glass
into my heart 
to awaken a story

as blood dripped
a memory formed
in the pain and suffering
an effigy wavered

then I knew
some stories 
should never be told
and forever remain

locked under my tongue 
speared into my heart
and silent in eternity...

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I watched my body turn to ice
And I didn’t shed a tear
At the numbing of my limbs
And ebbing flow of air.

I watched my form become a mass
Of such penetrating cold;
An effigy of flawless glass
With beauty uncontrolled.

I watched my figure slowly freeze
And oddly found my peace
For I was glowing like the moon
And never would I cease....

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If I lose my memory,
I am no longer me
But an empty vase.

If I can't remember,
I begin cracking
Till I shatter .

Moments birth memories,
Good ones light up the heart,
The bad, dim the soul.

But I know
That in that bright land
I shall have no memories,

Then I will be a mere empty vase
For I am no longer who I was
Only a void effigy...

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Catherine wheels and sparklers
 lighting up the night
 Hot chestnuts on the fire
 As bonfires burn bright
 
 A penny for the guy
 who tried to kill the king
 and blow the House of Lords sky high
 like a rocket in the wind

 Cracker jacks exploding
 as they celebrate this bloke
 whose effigy is burning
 Going up in smoke
              -
 11/2/16...

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And again surfaced that smirk
Glinting ever so alluringly in my wake
Kindling an effigy of suspense



Amidst the faces that evening
With the minutes I dissolved
As classic fairness advanced
Forsaken was I to saturate within carnality



Could such a reason exist
For such monumental idolatry?
Could such possibilities exist
For the sake of emasculating warriors?...

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Yesterday’s future
tomorrow today
subsuming transcendence
in all that we say

Perpetually present
the time to recall
all life in this moment
whose instant befalls

Begin a new ending
to whirl in the wind
the clock a reminder
its hour hand spins

Memory’s treasure
the fuel to inspire
each log a new effigy 
—raised from the fire

(Dreamsleep: May, 2023)...

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In the Temple of Hercules Gaditanus, 
Caesar wept with tearful feyness
Upon seeing the effigy of a noble Grecian
Who had surpassed his life’s ambition.

A man near Caesar asked him, “Why the weeping?,” 
And wondered what secret his friend was keeping.
“I have just cause to weep,” Julius cried.
“Because before this king at my age died,
He had vanquished all during heroic rides.”
...

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I was the picture 
In a frame
A tornado moved
Me from the wall
Though my framework
Is bent and dented
I smile throughout
It all.
I was the picture 
In a frame
Raging floods
Carried me away
My framework
Swelled and molded
Still my smile
it did not sway
One day the sun 
Came shining through
Reflection fades to
Transparency
The effigy truly
Peeled and torn
IT WASN'T ME!...

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