luctatio they branded the term
to define there interest
it was clear to all involved
Could stand proud and applaud.
Tuxedos and gowns, tonight.
We started out looking
for silver and gold.
We had designed a buckle for
the belt.
We carved it by hand.
It was rather beautiful
I put " Worlds Champion"
across the top.
The eagle was centered below the
Championship claim.
I thought it was rather beautiful
The day of the unveiling, I had asked
Saddlemen to go to the store
and get some nice wine
nothing real fancy or weird.
We needed it to start the celebration.
It's a tradition to start the celebration off with the pour of
the wine.
We poured it into a bassoon.
We don't drink it we trow it out.
I gave him enough for two bottles.
One to start the celebration and the other to end the evening.
It's fun you know I really think people
are gonna have a great time tonight!
Gurgling grunts
Help the pretty flowers grow
Babbling bluntly my mystical muse
Is easily confused
Pretty smells I do inhale
Dream faeries up my nose
To my brain attach a hose
To drain my poems
To and trow them
Into a field of rainbows
They go
Seems a Manchester man dropped trow
to test out a sofa, and how!
The fabric is swell;
it resisted poo well.
Good news too, it’s half price right now!
—————
Reported by employees at the Sofa Club in Manchester’s Arndale Centre. The disposition of the couch is poetic license…
He said, I don't know why you're acting like this.
Yoou trow the cornbread on thr table
and it fell to the floor. I got up and left.
you hit me with the Hoe, on purpose
again I left.
When you took the credit card
and put it back in mthe draw with
nothing one it:
I didn't say anything.
But yesterday I went
to the Women at Beat- ah- Bytch.
And hired sum Protection.
you gonna get your honey.
They gonna get you!
Told them E'ery thang.
You don't know who you dealin wiff!
How bout that!
How do them apples grab you?
Bet not be mad cause you pregant:
I asked you if
I could do-it!
You say yes Baby!
You said Yes!
Bet-knot be!
Excepts from "Your Mean Mother" or " Une mere Phussier"
written by Vargue Howarth, New Tile press. Ny, New York.
written with permission from
Gabby Noitall and Bet knot Mister who appears courtsey
of Prestige and money, Fame of wealthy men Inc.
call Brime Stoney for music rights.
Brime appears courtsey of gumout tasting bbq
with watered down ketsup Music Company.
Things Fussing People say: recorded live
with permission from Fussy and Them.
From Damn fool Record Company.
Godbout Canada.....
Data now arrayed in teaming endless motion
Entices all who seek it ever more
To drops of information like an ocean
Or grains of sand along an endless shore
The knowledge that was little known til now
Is there for all to see with ease restated
To bring us wisdom? There’s the rub, I trow
For knowledge is not wise unvaluated
When scholars could read all books of all seasons
Some estimated truth: effect and cause
By piercing observation and with reason
Wise men uncovered universal laws
From the jetsam of all facts in that great main
Discerned the pearls that in plain sight had lain
4 November 2021
Let's explore digital technology' Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Simon Rogerson
Right or wrong, where do I lie?
Reality seems to tell me: "both, neither.
"Make your own path, follow it truly,
As long as your heart doesn't wavers,
You will not regret it."
But I do have doubts, How do I deal with the doubts?
The unanswered questions, the uncertainty of the way.
No path seem to be sure enough, I doubt them all,
My heart shakes, my mind is confused at the crossroad.
Maybe I should follow the "safest" road,
Maybe it's not so bad.
I could follow the path the others take,
So I won't be alone down the road...
I wanted to delay the decision, I press snooze.
But it won't let me, it keeps coming every time.
I guess I may have to play head or tails
Or trow a dice,
Then close my eyes and my mind
Then follow the path chosen by fate or chance...
SHOULD I WOW YOU
Should I essay to wow you I trow
That my words shall be honest I vow
No mere rhymes such as ‘How now brown cow’
But an aesthetic furrow I’ll plough
Then I’ll speak my lines if you’ll allow
As we sit in cool shade neath a bough
And you fan gentle breeze on my brow
While empyrean scene I endow
For my impudence I should kowtow
Now please pardon my lack of knowhow
If I press my attention e’en now
You’d be right to say ‘Basta! and chao!’
But I’ll try one more time anyhow
Just dream that you are in Curaçao
Or on tropical sea in a dhow
**********
And then wake up in Slough. Holy wow!
21 August 2019
Mama Africa
She gave us a world
Inside this world
Was all we ever ask for
She gave us nature
To nurture our life's
Yet we are full
Of ignorance
Fighting for what
We don't need
Just to satisfy
Our urge
She gave birth
To love
Yet we trow hatred
Back to her face
What kind of humans
Are we today
If we are to live
With out her
She gave us life
Yet we chose to
Destroy it
Pollute it
And live like
She meant harm
To our comfort
She saved us from
Darkness
Still we kill her
Life
And now
Sooner or later
We are so soon
To destroy her world
Just because of our ignorance
Love me like crazy cause i deserve it.
Let kiss in public because we wokred this far.
Stumbling blocks up infront of us but we scall through.
Sucesses is continuous breakthroughs and we are still moving.
So baby for a while let take a pause and flaunt our love.
Let show poeple that our kiss will win a contest.
Let be the public couple even if they dont wanna see us.
Trow ur hand around my waist baby you deserve it.
Let walk while holding hands baby even if they hate it.
It had been my dream since long go
I was so happy I could go
for the first time get to see snow
I thought it would freeze my toe
I looked around, above and below
mesmerized by the white floe
appreciating the milky show
feeling the frosty wind to blow
walking excitedly, carefully and slow
how my heart was, no one could know
I went so crazy, walking to and fro
I didn't like skiing though
just the landscape and its shining glow
I went sledding many times in a row
A bunch of snowballs was nice to throw
A snowman by me was able to grow
I went snowboarding following the flow
and left that place with a sense of woe
If I will ever go back, I trow!
Coldest night, windiest blow..
Thirst of me is getting to grow..
Sweetest sight, prettiest snow..
Blur of him is creating slow..
Fearest insight, rarest trow..
Feet of me are flowing below..
Darkest bright, mystifiest woe..
Moments of him are thundering glow..
You're my beloved, my heart, second to none,
You're my star, my moon, my sun,
Your essence and affection make me and stun ,
Cannot I think, trow, walk and run,
Shinning eyes, fluffy cheeks and beautiful women
You're my beloved, one and only one,
This is true, so I call you,
Second to none,
Second to none....
Ye shall not love thee
For thee hath not hurt
Bequeath thine heart
Or thy soul canst be dirt
Find new love henceforth
May new love come hither
Ye offer nary
In fullsome though shall smother
Trow for the lady
Seek, dost not tarry
I am a book
with a cover of glitter and gold
an object of pure admiration
a character that's bold
a glamorous entity
a star about to unfold,
but you cant see through me
and my story is untold.
If you took off my covers
then what would you see
my page of black and a soul
that's not free,
bound by threads they captivate me.
The early chapters of the tale
depict an inerasable past,
chiseled out by misfortune over
which sorrow is cast,
so, to cover up the pain I wear
my glittery mask,
it's so very easy, I smile
and make the smile last.
But when I trow away the covers
that I so craftily mould,
and forget about my mask that's
worn out and old,
and cant find all the warmth in a
race that's so cold,
that will then be my rebirth and
my story retold.
”... there is no con troll…”
and those who know,
ARE the Spice.
Hobbit, be nice, they said
Trees return to the desert bed
”.... time is moving….”
Stow the bell and pass the soothing….
Girl got eyes alive with tunes and
Brandywine in the mind, Valentine.
Summer sets glow in colored winds
A bell rang, troll… are you my friend?
”.... her ring my Lord, IS the Pearl…”
How can this be? That the HE, is a girl?
Sign the Vermeer on the wall in here…
Curtains fall in silent halls and her pen…
STrikes to take the pebble from his hand.
Holbytla… it’s Me. Again.
”... get the Yoke?....” lol!
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