Vociferous Poems

To My Recollection

Cat was very nice to mice:
If asked for cheese, replied,
how big a slice?~ My honor to
please! -- 

Was also fond of backyard
birds: Wonderful! Marvelous!~
his admiring words. 

Now dog, was a bit more ornery...
he barked a lot, even at the laundry -- 
protector of all, in that way true~ 
a tinted greyhound, who answered to
Blue -- 
Though some may doubt, lower critters 
can actually speak! Perhaps, likewise suspicious
of my Chattering Creek…. 
--------------------------------------------------------------
There once was a Chattering Creek,
Mostly happy but sometimes bleak;
for the rains would come, and stir
such a clutter, causing the waters to
ripple and stutter; the edges would leak -- 
voice, more a holler! A vociferous flow~
Splattering! Splattering! Splattering! 
Till a breathless slow – dearer klatsch-like
chattering~~chattering~~chattering~~

The Coronation of Trump

A coronation, watched by our entire great nation,
Some with trepidation, others boisterous jubilation.
Trump feted, his fawning family silhouetted,
Basking in his light, his confidence and might.

This Grand Old Party, it's followers vociferous and hearty,
Anointing their chosen man, to rule their ever-growing clan;
No harm to love a cause, giving thought and sometimes pause,
To what this passion brings, the words the siren sings.

Whereas strong leadership is good, it can be tainted just like food,
For democracy renounced, cannot then easily be found.
Let’s be careful what we wish, lest it be a poisoned dish,
Our founders crafted choice, beyond just
one resounding voice;

Autocracy is not a word, that in our Lexicon is heard,
We must vigilance ensure, for our country's story to endure.
Unity the dream, but like salmon in a raging stream,
Needs fortitude and grit, knowing when to fight and for the greater good, submit.

Forced Nature

The redamancy flowed from within,
jumping down the line,
the nacarat sun;
blinding the ones alive,
listen to the canorous sounds;
blowing in the wind,
even though they are flagitious,
their nature seems forced,
how vociferous they can be;
lacking intrinsic will,
dripping with such disabuse,
we are fairly full of commination;
thus, we must sashay in the other direction,
the dreadful dream of flying free,
receiving nothing, yet staying fain;
their misery is effable at best,
dropping left, flipping right,
their beginning was left behind;
deep within the past of time,
any and all forgetting their Elysian minds.

The Courting

He's poised at the threshold, ready to husk flight.
His limbs are tense, and he seems to be in a plight.
A deep pit awaits him below, as the sky is limitless.
The time is here for him to fly away, vociferous.

As he descends, he feels air rush under his wings.
His voice vibrates in his head, and he wants to sing.
The high tide lifts him up, and he glides effortlessly.
Falls on a daisy and swallows its nectar querulously.

His time here is short since he must find a mate.
Is a sewer topic on his mind, and he sees it as his fate.
From above, he gets a glimpse of her. He must try.
To tempt her into their erotic dance, as he has to die.

Akin to actors on a stage, everyone moved as one.
Their summer ballet is depicted on a paper pen.
Earth's Chronicle has gone down over the years.
While he is dying, she lays her eggs yet no tears.

Written: May 27, 2023

Years

“Love needn’t be very eloquent. It calms down into silence as man and wife grow old together with sweet memories of the years gone by,  which speak to them more vociferous than words”    ~ By poet

Years rolled by in silence
With the ease of clouds drifting away
Sometimes as waves pounding the shore

They walk, along the much-trodden path 
The same grass beneath, the same gravel
Emotions surge and die in their hearts
Careful of every step, they trudge
Sometimes lean on one another

Two birds fly past them
Their eyes are simultaneously riveted
They move on, hardly uttering anything
Basking in the warmth of silence

Among them words are redundant
Their cataract eyes reflect 
A clear sparkle of contentment
Hardly visible to an outsider!

They move on with waves of memories,
Of all the years gone by, knowing quite well,
Life won’t be the same as before,
In the twilight years, but they see clearly
The stars beckoning them
In lustrous luminosity from a distance!

May.5.2023

Entered for Brian Strand Premiere No. 1217 Poetry Contest

~ Placed Second~

Writing Challenge- ‘Y’ Words Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Constance La France

Resumption of Daily Nightly Constitutional Lap2

Just on the cusp of experiencing joie de vivre,
the triumvirate of Crooks and Quade
figuratively swoop down
to announce re: inspection
of apartment unit B44
whenever they deem appropriate.

Thus series of unfortunate events
(linkedin with bull limey
Lemony Snicket bro)
got sidelined nsync with
contracting a minor bout
with deadly Amish Flu
symptoms found garden variety reasonable rhymer
bedridden feeling a little horse and buggy (ha),
incapacitated to craft signature poetry writing.

An honest to dog confession
regarding hiatus spewing forth
vociferous versatile vocabulary
mine words - worth their weight in gold
(told woofer I do not know), nevertheless
included perusing a gamut of reading material.

The passion to engross intellect
witnessed courtesy immersing
attention, concentration, excitation
gratification, intoxication;
knowledge prized more precious
than fine spun gold.

Likewise crafting (albeit painstakingly)
elusive notions that flit
to and fro hither and yon
(analogous to ping pong ball)
within parameters of
microscopically crenellated
sixty plus shades of gray matter
also constitutes fervent interest.

Mellifluous

Mellifluous her soothing voice 
Each word sugar-coated 
Like sweet honeyed candy
Luscious and mellow  
In her gentle dulcet tones
Flowing sweetly and melodiously
Lyrically euphoniously
Unlike his loud flamboyant tones
Oh such vociferous sounds emit
Until he heard her mellow words
Smoothly ~ gently her voice doth calm 

Written 16th September 2021

Contest 'M' Contest New Poems Only
Sponsor Constance La France
FIRST PLACE

Contest A STRAND  1060
Sponsor  Brian  Strand
FIRST PLACE

Listen To the Chaffinches

How pleasing to us are the quiet of the country lanes.
The vociferous extrovert chaffinches sing their refrains.

Remember how often we would trek the lonely paths
Occasionally they find some rill and have their baths

So common all over earth since they love to migrate,
Flying happily but from birds of prey quickly elate.

Their natural habitat is the woodland where they can rest.
Their songs communicate in different suggestions best

But especially when the mating seasons begin.
How lovely to listen songs far from the city's din

Scattered Screams

SHATTERED SCREAMS

ECHOES OF OUR SILENT SCREAM,
TORTURE FROM A LEADER'S STEAM,
DWINDLING OF OUR NATIONS DREAM.
WE CHOOSE TO FIGHT AS A TEAM,
OR WATCH THEIR THEATRICS LIKE A FILM.
IF WE FIGHT, OUR VOCIFEROUS WEAPON IS HUSHED,
IF SILENT, OUR FUTURE IS CRUSHED.
TOLLGATE IS NOW THE BLOOD GATE,
WHERE HEROS OF JUSTICE LEARN THEIR FATE.
OUR VOICES ARE STRANGLED,
WE'RE MANHANDLED LIKE A STAR SPANGLED.
THE PILLARS OF OUR STRUCTURE IS FALLING.
WHO HURTS HIS CHILD AND FLOGS HER FOR WAILING?
RELEASING THE CAMOS, WOLFS IN DIRTY SHEEP'S CLOTHINGS
AND BLACKMARIAL TO HUNT DOWN CITIZENS.
INTERNAL TERROR SUMS UP MY ANALYSIS.
NIGERIA, YOUR ACTS DABBLES & DAGGERS MY HEART. 
WHERE IS THE LABOUR OF OUR HEROS PAST?
OUR RESIDUE IS IN THE DEN OF THIEVES,
AND THE OLD CERTAINTY OF THE FUTURE HAVE BECOME MERE "IFs".

VickManuelPoetry {VMP}
Copyright© 14th Feb, 2021.

A Klingon Lullaby

(translated from the original language into English by the author.)

       A Klingon Lullaby

Die with dignity my savage child son
My warrior at the battle station ready
Bring honor to the Empire's name with pride
Kill everything not Klingon, everything in sight
With Bat’leth thrashes and knives slicing backs
Sing lullabies to curdle blood, to freeze the soul
Rock enemies from their graves back to the cradles 
Cry loud vociferous curses at the moons of Kronos 
Let your voice be heard inside the Council halls 
We live to die so hold your shield up high
I will scream you a Klingon lullaby to make you cry
It is a song of love and death and beating of the breast
To be one of us you must be alive before you die in battle 

              tlhIngan

bIHeghchugh qo' Law'Qo'
SuvwI' loDnI'pu' moj ghaH.
juHdajdaq QongmeH qo' ghaH juHDaq
Qo'noSDaq chenbe' tlhIngan
moDtaHvIS vangtaHvIS 'ej tlhu'moHtaHvIS
navDaq ghotpu'vaD neH lutoblaHbe'
che'wI' wa'netlh chutmey 
QI'tu' pagh, Qo'noS pagh, QI'tu' 
yejquv vaS DaneHchugh, vaj qo' Hoch batlh. 
tugh qabDaj wIpeghnIS
jInIDqang 'e' vIHarqang, tlhIngan Hoch vIjaHlaH
muSHa'chugh vaj muSHa'bogh HatlhwI' je
Suyep DaqeqnIS

History Repeats Itself

History Repeats Itself
By: Miracle Man
6/27/2020

As past sins are remembered,
and while restitution/revenge is being sought,
evil upon the world is wrought.
History is incontrovertible,
yet history is being erased/altered.

By allowing statues to be torn down, 
portraits removed, flags changed, 
and the renaming streets and buildings,
Our country is becoming more fractured.
Each thing is offensive to someone.

The sins of our past must be remembered
for “Those who cannot remember the past
are condemned to repeat it.”

In the name of social justice
we jump through hoops to appease a vociferous crowd.
We’re indoctrinating young minds with the narrative,
that “The end justifies the means”
thus making violent acts acceptable.
Hatred is a heart thing,
And Jesus loves us!

Proverbs 10:12 - 
Hatred stirreth up strifes: but love covereth all sins.

Silent Storm

her finger to his lips,
the mood like an eclipse.
she’s set the bed so it won’t quake,
not yet.
her satin gown shifts slowly,
like accentuated snowflakes.
the moon illuminates the hallowed place.
she flickers with the candlelight,
bare feet on rose petals, her wrists
orchestrating the space above the clouds -
a tender dance, sans music.
she needs him to hear
the deafness of the night,
then she can make love to him,
as if he knew

a world where only lightning can succumb
to the pitter-patterless rain; noiseless crackle,
the ebony sky with plumes of ziggurats.
afterall, she’s wont to create fireworks
in the marriage bed; roman candles,
catherine wheels, head over heels
in love with him,

and he hears her.
she kisses his tears.
he hears her quiet heartbeat.

the ornate swan and royal blue,
her charms,
the twining of vanilla and rose...
the honeymooners in vociferous throes.

this night of nights — the chamber undulates
as her spouse embraces the storm.
he craves fidelity*, her infinity.

6/25/2020
Sensuality Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One

*state of being faithful; accuracy of details

Vandalizing History

Vandalizing History
A Miracle Man opinion
6/21/2020

Under social injustice, history is vandalized today,
what started out a peaceful protest, wound up an affray.
Many became vociferous in expressing some slighting,
now, seems no day passes without dissing or gaslighting.

The world is too loud and I need placid times,
but my thoughts are ambushed by protest and crimes.
While burning, and looting, history they replace,
bringing to their movement resentment and disgrace.

Today, segments of some cities are facing a coup,
there’s so much fake news, who knows what is true?
It’s cleverly reported inciting anger to peak,
tongues utter only what sinful hearts speak.

We witness flags ablaze and monuments torn down,
society as we knew it, has experienced a meltdown.
If revenge is payment for wrongs of some past day,
God has declared, “vengeance is mine; I will repay.”*


*Romans 12:19
“Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath: for it is written, Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.”

The Vees Have It

Various vagabonds vandalized viable vertebrae.
Vitalizing voodooist’s vociferous vultures verified.
Vagarious vagrants vainly validating vultures’ vocabulary.
Variety of vertebrae venomously vindicating venial vagabonds.

Besotted Legs and Trampled Shadows

Daddy comes everyday when the twilight
Bifurcates the light into shadows
Like a miscreant, grasshopper
Intrudes into the cracks of walls
Mom became a vociferous loudspeaker
Alcohol staggers inside his belly
Like the movement of snake.. 
He never came that day
Mamma's hand freezed with 
Wheat flour and dough
My rapacious belly was ready to suffer
Starvation.. And I thought
Where did Those besotted legs and trampled
Shadows go? 
It can't go to some other pastures
Some other homes, 
It can't slap some other shoulders.. 
Myopic eyes often started to sew the dress
again enhancing the sartorial elegance.. 
I missed those shadows hued with that 
Of pickles and spirit.. 
Still I proclaimed:
Shadows have gone.. 
Light is yet to come... 
Life is yet to start

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