This one’s a castle; that’s a customs-house.
They’re stolid, listless, just a little dull.
The sky supports an arbitrary gull.
The languidness of Liszt, the style of Strauss
are wholly absent. Colours are metallic.
The eye sweeps over cornice, turret, steeple,
then it dawns on us – there are no people.
Clock towers, mountains, minarets, all phallic,
are void of human life. Stark, empty chairs
adorn each arid, motionless interior.
As we apprise, eyes sneeringly superior,
we note acerbically his love of stairs –
A Will to Power, ever pushing up.
One daub there is, however, gives us pause:
it dates long before Enabling Laws,
before he dreamed of Kesselring or Krupp:
a bridge that’s quite impossible to cross,
going nowhere, has never carried traffic.
With a boy sitting on it. Startling, graphic,
without a hint of Schadenfreude or Schloss.
Self-portrait, this? What features may we trace?
What’s here vouchsafed? Incipient racist brute?
Hardly. A disarmingly awful suit,
and most revealingly of all – he has no face.
Categories:
vouchsafed, history,
Form: Quatrain
That`s not Safe
I dared to battle with the wild thunder
Where flashes of lightning could blind the eyes,
Where I escaped being torn asunder
And darkish clouds veiled the crest of the sky;
In this inner tempest that wrecked my heart
Every burst of wild wind echoed deep pains
Tearing the strata of my heart apart
While I struggled with stinging stress and strains.
If woeful storms turn the days into night,
Will summer sweet sunshine be far away
To spread its glow on earth and shed its light,
To guide man along the virtuous way.
Battling with thunder, I learnt that`s not safe
With due lessons learnt, this can be vouchsafed.
Categories:
vouchsafed, heartbroken, pain, storm, stress,
Form: Sonnet
Grazing Trump’s ear gunshot when goes,
It nicks nation’s much-fancied nose,
World’s keen to know-- sharp ears,
Should things change in near years,
Republican romance,
Passion with pro-gun stance
Should slow, if ray of remorse shows.
_______________________________
Happenings |08.07.2024| USA, political
Poet’s note: This bullet might divide America more. For, four of the 46 presidents have been assassinated in office. More than half a dozen others have survived. Like Trump, democracy may survive, but will face some more fears. Violence can’t be vouchsafed, but if it causes the country’s love affair with gun a rethink, it will serve some purpose, if Trump be any wiser, any sober.
Categories:
vouchsafed, political, usa,
Form: Limerick
Altitude of Autumn—
bitty kites
without strings attached
from God’s cache.
Over the top joy—
elixir of Jack Frost,
Jacques Torres chocolate,
crackling of hearths.
Vouchsafed variegation
of leaves,
mulligan and goulash,
the swaddle of sweaters.
Patch of giant and itty bitty
crocks of seeds
and mellow pulp
to be roasted and pie’d,
then lit.
Impresario of Fall—
twirls and dips,
brightens and lightens
in darker-days bliss.
9/9/2021
Categories:
vouchsafed, autumn, drink, food, imagery,
Form: Verse
Notorious Nattering Nabobs of Negativism
(And Other Hopeless, Hysterical Hypochondriacs of History)
They pretend to love freedom but hate non-white votes
and poor's access to health care (both cost far too much
when supported by taxes where all pay debts owed.)
Wealth buys doctors' deferments when war gets announced
if dough's children might suffer (fake ailments vouchsafed
to excuse them from serving). Most hide wealth with glee
(for God loves that rich cheat!) No taxation is fair!
Just depraved think that wealth's butt's gang-raped by the rich?
Might a saint dream elites love to row their black boats?
Where does cripple complain Chris (1) 'discovered' his crutch?
Hmm! How likely is that? Who knows hole from commode?
Watch world slip off its rails as Christ's Love gets denounced,
brown kids stripped from their parents as mercy gets strafed,
our democracy burns, Trump lights farts from golf tee,
his card boasts he's ahead, but the game's truth or dare.
As each whore takes her bra off, pimps see who's the b*tch!
Long Tooth
October 23rd in 2020
Poet's Notes:
(1) Christopher Columbus
Categories:
vouchsafed, humor, political,
Form: Rhyme
Whose woods these are I think I know.
They come not from the village though;
From ancient times abided here
Vouchsafed the land through fire and snow.
The other settlers think it weird*
To stop a pipe where no town’s near
Between the mountains, sea and lake
In midst of climate crisis year.
They squawk their anger, heads do shake
Vow their livelihood’s at stake.
The only sound, the Mounty’s sweep
Of Indigenes and other flakes.
Though woods stand lovely, dark and deep
There’s much to do before I sleep,
And broken promises to keep,
And broken promises to keep.
2/19/2020
* weird is an imperfect rhyme but the Soup autocensored qu**r
Categories:
vouchsafed, environment,
Form: Rhyme
I treated this strange creature with great care
I knew she was not human, so unfair
She looked like my old cat before it died
Someone give her food, make sure it’s fried
She could not mew nor bark nor did she speak
I did not tell her that she was a freak
She liked to use her hair as a defence
Peering out as if in recompense
But if I’d cut it off, she would have screamed
As she watched the music fly in streams
She saw her visions and she talked to Lights
Noone human is vouchsafed such sights
But still I liked to gorge on her cheese flan
She might not act quite human but who can?
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Categories:
vouchsafed, allusion, how i feel,
Form: Sonnet
Time is not Painless
Written: by “Miracle Man”
7/17/2018
Oh God, you’ve vouchsafed me, more time to be spent,
Sometimes, tolerating pain, when it won’t relent;
You’ve never allowed pain, to place me in a bind,
Temporary pain, to me, always begins in my mind.
We’ve crossed more speed bumps than I can recall,
And though feeling pain’s presence it fails to enthrall.
You’ve allowed me to learn, a thing or two about pain,
It seems my body has become its temporary domain.
You’ve guided my path to another speed bump today,
And if I fail in overcoming it, it’ll be better than Okay.
Categories:
vouchsafed, pain, time,
Form: Couplet
religion expelled from school vouchsafed gunshot attendance
Categories:
vouchsafed, school,
Form: Monoku
This one’s a castle, that’s a customs-house.
They’re stolid, listless, just a little dull.
The sky supports an arbitrary gull.
The languidness of Lizst, the style of Strauss
are wholly absent. Colours are metallic.
The eye sweeps over cornice, turret, steeple,
and then it dawns on us – there are no people.
Clock towers, mountains, minarets, all phallic,
are void of human life. Stark, empty chairs
adorn each arid, motionless interior.
As we apprise, eyes sneeringly superior,
we note acerbically his love of stairs –
a Will to Power, ever pushing up.
One daub there is, however, gives us pause:
it dates from long before Enabling Laws,
before he dreamed of Kesselring or Krupp:
a bridge that’s quite impossible to cross,
that goes nowhere, has never carried traffic,
bears one boy sitting on it. Startling, graphic,
without a hint of Schadenfreud or Schloss:
self-portrait, this. What features might we trace?
What’s here vouchsafed? Incipient racist brute?
Well, hardly. An endearing, awful suit,
and – most revealingly of all – he has no face.
Categories:
vouchsafed, psychological,
Form: Quatrain
The prophets of God
need no credentials
to prove to someone
that God spoke to them
When their words come to pass,
that is proof positive enough
When their prophetic song ends at last,
they will have called every wicked bluff
Their only credentials
are in the words that they speak
They're not deferential
to any wicked ruler's ungodly decree
They only obey God,
not the capricious dictates of man
They only do what God says,
following He who sits at His right hand
They need no credentials,
they've vouchsafed by a higher authority
But you better have yours,
if you want to enter into the land of eternity
Categories:
vouchsafed, christian, judgement, religious, spiritual,
Form: Quatrain
Sea breeze, yellow haze
Lunar purpose pulls unseen
Vouchsafed lies frozen
Categories:
vouchsafed, mystery, nature,
Form: Haiku