His plaintive cry pierced the air
pleading to travel somewhere
Sympathizers marched in a faraway square
their fists clenched in slogans
As he bled to death slowly
~ in the presence of no one
The harsh pains of terrible toothache
No human nor humanoid can fake.
The "oh!" are real, the "Ah!" and "Jeesus!,"
Caries of the Bad Tooth for scissors!
Sufferer's cheeks feel the agony;
Puffed up in pursuit of harmony:
So also the eyes above: quite scared,
For the bad much the teeth have been dared.
Sympathizers say "Avoid sugar."
I, Hindhu, who can't shun our Yoga."
Now, cries seller of its drug "No...No,
Extraction quite wrong: more shall go!"
Men by no means licensed Dentists:
Are they handing out truths or their twists?
One thing is sure: Dentists don't like them
And long had learnt to call one problem
"If you're ready for quick extraction
The Dental service, no distraction."
Keeping rabbits
After the German army surrendered, life was tough
the army had employed many to do road work and
repairing bridges, the allies had bombed.
With freedom of movement to roam in the night
followed theft of food items like the man who
stormed into a bakery waving a rusty Mauser gun
stealing bread; the coal depot needed security
guards as did the sausage producer.
The police force was reduced, and many officers had been
fired since they had been Nazi sympathizers during
the war of occupation; mind, many trickled back
in uniform when trespasses were overlooked.
Of serious crimes, there was one who assaulted women
going home late, knocking them down and stealing
underwear, which back then was a bombastic affair
yet an intimate garment; the newspaper reporting
the case wrote, ladies' items had been stolen
In our time of need, my mother’s brother gave her
two white rabbits, the rabbits soon became many
sweet bunnies, and before we knew the flat was full.
A lady, from the posh part of town, bought the rabbits
her action had not been charitable, she was later
seen wearing a white fur coat.
Now Foreign Medicine, next Forest Herb,
Heart rate jumps, floored figure in a kerb;
Emergency phoning of a doc
Won't to acting like the Hardest Rock
"Doc, please, what do I do: I mean, now?
Also say 'How' or I'm a dead cow,"
From now on Doc to know about it.
Every fancied healer, full or split...
One's clear challenge to be circumspect
And ideas of True Restraint respect
Time and again think in retrospect
And - yes - keep minding that sly aspect;
If not careful rouse sleeping down
And sympathizers crowd in one's room.
What’s In A Word
Humor: by Miracle Man
November 25, 2021
Today, much time is spent on word substituting,
we’re currently being asked to cease using the word looting.
Hoodlum sympathizers have deemed it a racist word,
but to me, looting’s appropriate, and much preferred.
Some waste time lobbying on a better word campaign,
but taking from another what they've labored to obtain.
In every sense of the word you've become a looter,
and must plead your case before some prosecutor.
Over time words evolved and many are now taboo,
and being called white privileged, I find offensive too.
But I tend to agree and, as always, a straight shooter,
smash and grab is more refined than just plain looter.
“Fools live to regret their words,
wise men to regret their silence.”
Will Henry
A second is defiant
a minute is aggressive towards my dreams
flourishes a formidable mental anarchy
I creep confidently by the tail of a second
To the dejection of sympathizers
The patience of my sympathizers tires me
Waiting for the minute of abortive strife
Anticipated steps abrogated
Triumphant move trails the second
When fear surrogates confidence
Hope carries away the receiving end
Pain being exacerbated by giving
To bond the two sides
For passionate diffusion
Carrying hope together
Sending waves beyond normal.
The prologue was so pulsating
With punitive ideas meant to probate
pummeling the frail wasn't prolific
the effort of maternal Ponto punch,
but made it abreast with the potent
pseudo abrogate of stitch made it puck
the accord was to prelude penal
disloyalty chastens from pudenda
we swore the cause by purity
now we stand exhibiting
enjoying our terrifying purl
NOT ONLY THE SICK
The sick aren't limited to only
Those ones lying on the bed
Feeling uncomfortable, weak
Receiving treatment, instructions
Not only the sick
Everyone is a casualty
Carers, sympathizers, doctors
Friends far and distant ones are
The sick are well treated like newly born
Sleep inside, on the bed, well covered
But caregivers sleep outside like goats
Exposed to cold, mosquito bites and fears
Not only the sick feel the pains
Loved ones run helter-skelter
Relations always in panic, fear
Resume deeply in prayer, fasting
Stay at home too not at rest
Not sure of the sick's condition
Though waiting to see him again
To receive him healthier than ever
Physicians as well, not exempted
Hope to discharge the patient alive
Research and consult, go extra miles
Prefer smiling farewell to parting tears.
He feels lonely at heart
He feels absent from his surroundings
He weaves himself like the kente
He wanders like a running stomach
He shrinks himself in the comfort of his conscience
The wind of hope departs from his presence
He has no peace with the present as he battles with the forces of reality
His mind shreds into little pieces
The spanner of despair loses his mind and pulls him down to the ground
The past came knocking like Santa clause
He transforms to lady gaga
The passer by looked on and said to one another
He is actually going gaga
He laid his troubled heart at their feet as he wrapped himself in the hugging arms of sympathizers
An hour ago
At the embassy
Fleets of steels sighing
Protracted protocols prying
Exodus of seekers of greener pastures murmuring
Hanging hangars rusting and resting
Busy bees bullying deterioration
Officials posses with officialdom
Cabs crowing
Heads heavy with thoughts
Eyes lacerated with tears
Wives in sack-cloths
Sympathizers gulped down dry gins
As the blue bird landed from the air,
The remnant of his remains
Descended from above
Musa,
Butchered in the street of London
Awoh Awoh
HAIL THEE OSAMA, NOT !
I cry your demise, Oh dear Osama
For you live not long to be a saint
From The sour fruits you sow since the decades
Just yesterday, your elder was blessed
John was called, Oh dear Pope John
Beatified for life of a flock-Sherperd
That never canibalized upon the flocks
In peace he leads, in reality he preached
The world to turn a new image
What was your motive then? Bn
Progress for humanity or long live to the Qur'ans Sharia?
Who live to rule the other? Humans or faith?
Learn where you got it wrong, Mujaheddin
On your second coming, dare not evil
Never dwell in tora bora!
Bear with men and learn
If only you care to the core
We should have crave your mercy
As sympathizers
Apostles to Jesus, harmless merciful talibans
Yet I admire you a lot, I adore you
Its works of a mad courage to stand alone
And existed as the odd for this long
So your sainthood days shall come
For my joy to call you Prophet Bn Osama
I pray thee peace, I call the true warrior
For the bad memories that haunts me always
Never to forget, till you exist no more.