Beat the drums; aye, beat the drums!
Make them go stark raving mad—
These likes of Emperor Jones. 1
The criminals' courts play house.
Adzes don't cut their own tails. 2
Where are Clinton, Bush, and Trump? 3
'We' are the people, the mob. 4
'We' are judges; 'we' punish.
They should be ripped limb from limb.
Peaceful rallies will not do.
The criminals we'll tear up
On the streets across the globe.
Over!
1.14.2024
1 See The Emperor Jones, a short play by Eugene O'Neill.
2 A Persian adage
3 Three of the infamous slaughterers of the Bosnians, Afghans, Iraqis, and Syrians
4 See "I am the People, the Mob” by Carl Sandburg.
No comments, please!
The water-well
There is near the houses a deep well
you can´t stick a bucket on a rope, much ropes were needed.
They used to hire a man usually the village idiot
to spend his life hauling up buckets of water.
Villagers believed the water came from the Yanjing river in China.
A man who had gone to school disagreed; it is a deep
underground river, he said. For this, he was disliked.
One day he fell down the well, but since it was not
man made and smooth a big stone sticking out saved him
from falling all the way down.
Broke his leg in the fall, he did.
With a dangling leg he had to claw himself up, however
they gave him water to drink, his struggle made him thirsty.
When he got out, he spoke a strange language
the villagers, thought was Chines, it never struck them
he was stark raving mad.
Now, an electric pump was installed, they saw him limping
out of the village talking gibberish.
You Wake Up To Find Out Black And White Are The Same
He said, yes, fear Fate when curves destroy the straight line
When the circle turns into a huge blacken square
And malignant rocks are the food on which you dine
And your saddest night's memories are what you share
Life spins out its tangles to catch cowardly fools
And dawn dances on the sweet memories you hold
Your build your comfort house on sand, with rusty tools
Loss catches you because on folly you are sold
Rumor and lies fly in to create a false truth
Your few friends believe you to be stark raving mad
You try and try to salvage your sad failing youth
Nobody believes your because tall tales are bad.
Life seems to be wrong and a most vicious game.
You wake up to find out black and white are the same.
Robert J. Lindley, Sonnet
Nov. 5th 1975
If you are the mother of Vlad
Your heart is increasingly sad
Vlad just wants more ground
The whole world has found
That bugger is stark raving mad!
The water well
There is near the houses a deep well
you can´t stick a bucket on a rope many ropes are needed.
They used to hire a man usually the village idiot
to spend his life hauling up buckets of water.
Villagers believed the water came from the Yanjing river
A man who had gone to school disagreed; it is a deep
underground river, he said. For this, he was disliked.
One day he fell down the well, but since it was not
manmade and smooth a big stone sticking out saved him
from falling all the way down.
Broke his leg in the fall, he did.
With a dangling leg he had to claw himself up, however
they gave him water to drink, his struggle made him thirsty.
When he got out, he spoke a strange language
the villagers, thought was Chines, it never struck them
he was stark raving mad.
Now, an electric pump was installed, they saw him limping
out of the village talking gibberish.
I met a guy in the dairy section of my local grocery store
He was carrying an over-the-shoulder, leather purse
He had a purple scarf around his neck, what could be worse?
The fellow was driving a great big, black funeral hearse!
A buxom young lady was shopping in the produce aisles
I could have sworn she had had extensive lipo-suction
Her enormous biceps were a work under construction
She had three children with her, an obvious deduction.
I moved on to the meat department and stood watching
An old lady maneuvering an enormous motorized grip
Ordered a butcher to cut her a three-pound New York strip
While she was waiting she did a perfect backward, reverse flip.
Tell me, before I go stark raving, mad-as-a-hatter crazy
I am jumping too quickly to unwarranted conclusions
That after what I saw I should immediately go into seclusion
It only seems that way; clearly, I am victim of my own delusions.
Written March 18, 2021
Submitted to Kai Michael Neumann’s
“It Only Seems That Way” contest
The Quarantine makes people sad
But working at home makes them glad
Though some may pout
It all works out
It drove the wife stark raving mad!
A poem~ For Alyssa
"Lost border collie...Jordan"
Dedicated to the beautiful children
lost in a Florida massacre!
We can't find Jordan anymore
He's lying under Alyssa's bed.
He does not know she is dead
A killer's bullet in her head.
The TV stations ..ratings mad,
Flash her picture.
Jordan's eyes grow sad
Her father is stark raving mad.
So, off to the cemetery they go
With balloons and flowers
And bleeding hearts... And...
Endless tears, sleepless nights
He cannot walk her down the aisle.
Nor will he see her children smile.
And those of us with progeny
Feel their pain with ultimate agony.
Panagiota Romios
Summer Shimmers
In my rear vision
Its super hot
But i dare not stop
Here
On the ruddy Barkley
If i get out
This car
I will become instant
Yum cha
As its steaming
Ruddy hot
Here on the Barkley
Theres no picnic to be had
At the dusty rest stop
The furnace of hell
Blows across the plain
Here
On the ruddy Barkley
Stark raving mad
Ye have to be
To drive the
Ruddy Barkley
Come the wet
I hit the grid at the border
Doing 140
Out here on the
Ruddy Barkley
No cop at the shop
To slow me down
3 ways at one end
Mt Isa the other
Camooweal
Yeah nah
Pay 5 star for none
Not much choice
Out here on
The ruddy Barkley
The fuels getting low
But i aint
Pulling me foot
As i cant wait
To finish the
Ruddy Barkley
HER MOM’S AN ANGRY CLEANER
I’ve gone stark raving mad. That’s what we ladies do. Cleaning rag in hand, vacuuming the crumbs, tossing dishes like flying saucers. She says, I’m an angry cleaner. Perhaps she’s right. Do not be within the proximity, the border, the one I draw around myself. Do not come into the room saying, “What’cha doin’?” Because chap, it’s quite obvious and the winds of war are going to blow. Do you see that gray cloud...hear the booming thunder? The anvil’s about to fall. You, sir, are on the chopping block. Do you see my feet kick back, Pig-Pen’s dust and dirt swirling around my head. Do you know a Brownie must never be caught? If you knew these things, why’d you step out of line? Go back inside your “doggie container” Later, I’ll clean that out too...when you fly to third world countries. For now you see a witch upon her broom, cackling out “shoo!”
10/18/2018
Pig-Pen - character from Peanuts comic
Trump Stark Raving Mad
Is stark raving mad;
Trump has been more than a tad;
Democrats are glad.
Jim Horn
The cinnamon tea lover in me thrives
Hand-held book comes to a surprising end
Be careful reaching in the honey hives
Observing cruelty of the author’s bend
Suspense creeps in with tea and crumpets, dear,
And murder, mayhem, chaos, stirred right in
And lumps of sugar fuel our need to fear
So not to take a sip, would be a sin
That spot of tea with a delicious plot
Interesting characters, both good and bad
Protagonist fights her way to the top
It can drive your tea bags stark raving mad
Authors have that awful glint in their eyes
Because they do decide – who lives, who dies
Towards the edge of the clearing
We lost our way
Where have they all gone
I’m sure they’re just creeping
And I chased them all the way
Now I don’t want get to close
To edge of the clearing
My cries they’ve gone unheard
I know that they’ve left me
But that couldn’t have been their plan
To leave me here stark raving mad
Wait theirs one
At the edge of the clearing
I run, scream and flailing my hands
With a breath she gone
I don’t understand
I here their laughs and whispers
Where does it come from
Over the edge of clearing
From which no one returns
M. Lyn Church
March 31, 2016
A little tic, he’s crazy
Lunatic
Raving on destruction
Lunatalk
Oily black plumage
Greasy black eyes
Blurry with delusion
Dreary dark disguise
He cocks his head just so
so he can see your soul
and then he
SCREAMS IN YOUR FACE.
calms down to an embrace
of a little tic; he’s crazy.
Lunatic.
It's war he wages
thumbing pages
of your autobiography
stark raving mad
mumbling something about
dreams so sad
and shattered, shattered, shattered
SHATTERED DREAMS!
in smithereens
he screams.
Then as he preens,
it’s destruction in his mumbling
your fumbling world is crumbling
he raves…
Lunatalk.
He’s crazy.
08/31/15
I hope one day you suffer
I hope one day you burn
I hope one day you pay
For the love you have spurned
I hope you feel the torment
I hope you feel jagged thorn
I hope that you long to die
As in sackcloth black you mourn
I hope you feel less than dirt
I hope you twist with such pain
I hope betrayal drives you
Stark raving mad and insane
I hope one day you're haunted
I hope in terror you scream
I hope at nighttime you see
A nightmare in place of dream
I hope one day SOON you bleed
With a spear thrust in your side
Wounded for killing my love
Your soul not able to hide
Yes, it may be pure evil
It may be a heinous crime
But for my heart's rejection
I hope you get to do time
Yes, I hope that you suffer
I hope that you wail and weep
It will soothe my aching heart
That you didn’t want to keep
Eileen Manassian Ghali
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