Poet's Corner

[midcan5]

'The Socialist ABC'

"When that I was and a little, tiny boy,
Me daddy said to me,
'The time has come, me bonny, bonny bairn,
To learn your ABC.'

Now Daddy was a lodge chairman
In the coalfields of the Tyne
And his ABC was different
From the Enid Blyton kind.

He sang, 'A is for Alienation
That made me the man that I am, and

B's for the Boss who's a Bastard,
A Bourgeois who don't give a damn.

C is for Capitalism,
The bosses' reactionary creed, and

D's for Dictatorship, laddie,
But the best proletarian breed.

E is for Exploitation
That workers have suffered so long, and

F is for old Ludwig Feuerbach,
The first one to say it was wrong.

G is all Gerrymanderers,
Like Lord Muck and Sir Whatsisname, and

H is the Hell that they'll go to
When the workers have kindled the flame.

I's for Imperialism,
And America's kind is the worst, and

J is for sweet Jingoism,
That the Tories all think of the first.

K is for good old Kier Hardy,
Who fought out the working class fight, and

L is for Vladimir Lenin,
Who showed him the left was all right.

M is of course for Karl Marx,
The daddy and the mommy of them all, and

N is for Nationalisation -
Without it we'd tumble and fall.

O is for Overproduction,
That capitalist economy brings, and

P is for all Private Property,
The greatest of all of the sins.

Q's for the Quid pro quo,
That we'll deal out so well and so soon, when

R for Revolution is shouted and
The Red Flag becomes the top tune.

S is for Sad Stalinism
That gave us all such a bad name, and

T is for Trotsky, the hero,
Who had to take all of the blame.

U's for the Union of Workers -
The Union will stand to the end, and

V is for Vodka, yes, Vodka,
The vun drink that vont bring the bends.

W's for all Willing Workers,
And that's where the memory fades,

For X, Y, and Zed,' my dear daddy said,
'Will be written on the street barricades.'

Now that I'm not a little tiny boy,
Me daddy says to me,
'Please try to forget those thing that I said,
Especially the ABC.'

For daddy is no longer a union man,
And he's had to change his plea.
His alphabet is different now,
Since they made him a Labour MP."

Alex Glasgow

 

[midcan5]

'At the Movie: Virginia, 1956'

"This is how it was:
they had their own churches, their own schools,
schoolbuses, football teams, bands and majorettes,
separate restaurants, in all the public places
their own bathrooms, at the doctor’s
their own waiting room, in the Tribune
a column for their news, in the village
a neighborhood called Sugar Hill,
uneven rows of unresponsive houses
that took the maids back in each afternoon …
and still I never saw them on the street.
It seemed a chivalric code
laced the milk: you’d try not to look
and they would try to be invisible."

Ellen Bryant Voigt

 

[Impenitent]

"McCain in Syria"



Hey, Syria Syria

Here I go

From the wheelchair to the walker to the plane for Syria

Uh huh! I gotta go groveling in this tent
Gotta stir up more hate and discontent

No prize please, I don't want war to cease
Just lookin' to disturb a little peace

With Syria

Think I better cool it in Chechnya
My best bet is with Lebanon and Syria

Syria

Who to deal with has me quite perplexed
One Mohammed looks pretty much like the next

No doubt any would murder or bugger me
Just like the my buddies back in the GOP

If we gotta go deep to make the deal just right
I’ll have to get and give my Syria surprise tonight

Guns for pearls around the world with me

In Syria

But something’s wrong as the label warned
For more than 4 hours I've been horned

My heart exploding like a mortar round
I’ll keep my hands shut tight for if I'm found

They’ll find the pearls for Syria

Syria

And now it’s over, i'm awake at last
Oh, heartaches and memories from the past

It was just another dream about pharmaceutical love

With Syria

Here I go

Back to sleep and in my dreams

I’ll be in Syria

Syria

Syria

 

[midcan5]

'Working Homicide'

"He greets us at the door.
“She’s downstairs on the floor,”
he says, “behind the bed.”
We find her, as he said,
wedged into the narrow space
with nothing but a trace
of blood in her black hair
to show us where
the bullet struck and threw
her back before she knew
how their shouted argument
had fired his rage and sent
him groping in the dresser drawer
to threaten, as he had before,
to silence any sound.
She might have stood her ground
and told him that she knew
the secret of his manhood grew
out of his father’s mocking scorn
when a weakling son was born."

James Fleming

 

[Impenitent]

"Locket"

When we first met
I knew it was you
And you knew it too

Swept off our feet
A lover's high
No wonders why

You gave to me
A heart locket to keep
That I could feel it beat

When you were away
I could be near to you
And care for you

Such a fragile thing
Placed much trust in me
Now you're unjust to me

Those demons could see
Our love so limitless
And stole our happiness

Just to let you know
I wish you well
And it beats there still

 

[Impenitent]

"Indian Paintbrush"

There was a flowing brook
Bordering a golden meadow
Indian paintbrush and willow

Such an untroubled nook
Welcomed respite we took
My chest your pillow

But winter drouth has come
Where once glory now none
Serenity all undone

To fear and doubt did succumb
So quickly it leaves me numb
What had only begun

Do I hear a robin's song
Or just my echo there
So faint it isn't clear

Promising spring will be along
Tho the risk of being wrong
Oh, but how I need you here

Are you the same songbird
Will the brook flow as before
Will the meadow bloom evermore

How I loved your every word
And how time became blurred
Please again be mine to adore

 

[midcan5]

'A Story Can Change Your Life'

"On the morning she became a young widow,
my grandmother, startled by a sudden shadow,
looked up from her work to see a hawk turn
her prized rooster into a cloud of feathers.
That same moment, halfway around the world
in a Minnesota mine, her husband died,
buried under a ton of rockfall.
She told me this story sixty years ago.
I don’t know if it’s true but it ought to be.
She was a hard old woman, and though she knelt
on Sundays when the acolyte’s silver bell
announced the moment of Christ’s miracle,
it was the darker mysteries she lived by:
shiver-cry of an owl, black dog by the roadside,
a tapping at the door and nobody there.
The moral of the story was plain enough:
miracles become a burden and require a priest
to explain them. With signs, you only need
to keep your wits about you and place your trust
in a shadow world that lets you know hard luck
and grief are coming your way. And for that
—so the story goes—any day will do."

Peter Everwine

 

[Impenitent]

"I've Been Springboarding"

Off of Mars
Dancing on the stars
Howling at the moon
That we'd be together soon

I've been trembling for the touch
This Earthling seeks so very much
Locked in our private little nook
Where first the Earth shook

Canaveral morning was so cozy
The capsule shiny bright and rosy
We blasted toward the aurora borealis
A King and his Queen in a palace

And this Superman will never rest
Until i inhale Lois Lane's hot breath
And that really doesn't have to rhyme
If this metaphor is yours, as it is mine

 

[Impenitent]

"Yesterday's News"

I suppose I'd better warm this up
Get the motor runnin' - where to?
Will we be drinking from the loving cup
Or go back to that same old déjà vu?

You know, I start a couple of lines
No idea which way they will go
Just waiting for you to flip your dime
Are you hot today, or in an ice floe?

You must join me in this last dance
I pick the music and lyric - I am Apollo
You seem to know the steps of faux romance
You lead - I follow I follow I follow

I was writing about this roller coaster ride
To easy metaphors our love I'd connote
But the hype stripped away, that's a downhill slide
Leaving me with only a suicide note

The paradox I see, the deeper our love is, for me
Toward the beach you float away
While I'm drowning at the bottom of the sea
You're thinking of another love, another day

What I can give, you don't need
But what you can take, is what you want
It seems the greatest compulsion I feed
Is my heart on a stick for you to flaunt

I already know what the ending is
When this construct is destroyed by reality
And you walk away from the abyss
Unconcerned about this little triviality

 

[Impenitent]

"Dirty Little Coward"

I've been a long time
Adrift at sea
No human contact
To comfort me

I had a songbird
But i set her free
She didn't even say
Goodbye to me

I should hang her picture
So the world could see
The tender trap I fell into
Plus Mr. Howard's plan for me

These signals from space
The many that disagree
They don't fit my meme
They don't get thru to me

A shaman came calling
Mr. Howard with his Judas Tree
I let down my guard
You see what's become of me

He arranged a rendezvous
My Robin under the marquee
Now a woman in red
At the Biograph with me

 

[The Professor]

My Wife and I have always been impressed with the number seven because of its Biblical significance. Even in the secular world the number has always been considered special, even magical. Instead of sending our granddaughter Emma Rose a birthday card for her seventh birthday we decided that we would create a poem about the number seven so here it is:

The Times Table for Emma Rose

You've seen the world for seven years;
You're seven years times one.
There is a new adventure
With each rising of the sun.
It wasn't very long ago
That you first learned to walk,
But now you read and write and dance
And draw with magic chalk.
There's still so much to see and do;
Your life has just begun.
The world is full of wonder
When you're seven years times one.

One day you will be fourteen,
which is seven years times two,
And like the flowers in the field
You'll bloom just as they do.
At fourteen you will have less time
For all your childhood toys.
There will be more important things
Like school and clothes (and boys).
The grass will seem much greener
And the sky a deeper blue.
The world is bright and beautiful
When you're seven years times two.

Then you will be twenty-one
Which is seven years times three.
It's time to think of where you've been
And where you hope to be.
Then Emma Rose will spread her toes
On soft, warm glistening sands,
And look out at the ocean
And think of distant lands.
Then filled with love and faith and dreams
You'll fly across the sea.
Oh, the world is full of promise
When you're seven years times three.

But today's the day you'll celebrate
With presents, cake and fun.
It's a very special day because
You're seven now, times one.

 

[IlarMeilyr]

Here comes an oldie from Andrew "Dice" Clay:

Betty and Jack up a tree
F-u-c-k-i-n-g
First comes Betty, then comes Jack
Then comes the goo out of Betty's crack​

 

[Impenitent]

"Borrowed Words"
(Sonnet #2)

My dear, you ask what do I think of you
May I give you the answer once again
That we never touch is my greatest rue
My make believe isn't just love i feign

Can we but return to the beginning
With your gentle replies and ice-cream smile
We were turtledoves billing and cooing
How do we reclaim what once so beguiled

While it does entertain and amuse me
Sending messages through with borrowed words
It might also distress and confuse me
Can I hear, once again, my sweet songbird

All the words, above our heads, spinning 'round
It should be so simple to pull them down

 

[Impenitent]

Annabel Lee

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

Edgar Allan Poe

 

[Impenitent]

"Visceral Poetry"

Republicans and Nazis we should never compare
To do so would be outrageous and unfair!
But there's a question that continually keeps me awake
Would old Nazis good Republicans make?

Republicans could never be Nazis, for goodness sake!
But could Nazis, in the Grand Old Party, ever partake?
Could the founding fathers of the Thousand Year Reich
Adapt to the party of a Thousand Points of Light?

Given some thought, it's not so unfeasible
Even General Eisenhower thought it conceivable
When he found Wernher Von Braun hiding in the thistles
Only to make him father of NASA and our ballistic missiles

Given that example, why couldn't more rehabilitate their brand?
This time, be good soldiers for the Republican high command
Wouldn't Rommel, a Panzer Commander of Field Marshal rank
Be equally comfortable running a right wing think tank?

Or Joseph Goebbels, charged to propagandize and flummox
Could become a talking head with his own show on Fox
While Eichmann and his concentration camp guards
Would be pole watchers, checking our registration cards

And those entitlement programs that never really worked
Our leaders bold proposals they've flip flopped and shirked
Would Nazis be like these windsocks and spin it?
Or would they throw grandma off the cliff? ...In a Wehrmacht minute!

 

[derk]

"Visceral Poetry"

Republicans and Nazis we should never compare
To do so would be outrageous and unfair!
But there's a question that continually keeps me awake
Would old Nazis good Republicans make?

Republicans could never be Nazis, for goodness sake!
But could Nazis, in the Grand Old Party, ever partake?
Could the founding fathers of the Thousand Year Reich
Adapt to the party of a Thousand Points of Light?

Given some thought, it's not so unfeasible
Even General Eisenhower thought it conceivable
When he found Wernher Von Braun hiding in the thistles
Only to make him father of NASA and our ballistic missiles

Given that example, why couldn't more rehabilitate their brand?
This time, be good soldiers for the Republican high command
Wouldn't Rommel, a Panzer Commander of Field Marshal rank
Be equally comfortable running a right wing think tank?

Or Joseph Goebbels, charged to propagandize and flummox
Could become a talking head with his own show on Fox
While Eichmann and his concentration camp guards
Would be pole watchers, checking our registration cards

And those entitlement programs that never really worked
Our leaders bold proposals they've flip flopped and shirked
Would Nazis be like these windsocks and spin it?
Or would they throw grandma off the cliff? ...In a Wehrmacht minute!

Did you write it?

 

[Impenitent]

"Visceral Poetry"

Republicans and Nazis we should never compare
To do so would be outrageous and unfair!
But there's a question that continually keeps me awake
Would old Nazis good Republicans make?

Republicans could never be Nazis, for goodness sake!
But could Nazis, in the Grand Old Party, ever partake?
Could the founding fathers of the Thousand Year Reich
Adapt to the party of a Thousand Points of Light?

Given some thought, it's not so unfeasible
Even General Eisenhower thought it conceivable
When he found Wernher Von Braun hiding in the thistles
Only to make him father of NASA and our ballistic missiles

Given that example, why couldn't more rehabilitate their brand?
This time, be good soldiers for the Republican high command
Wouldn't Rommel, a Panzer Commander of Field Marshal rank
Be equally comfortable running a right wing think tank?

Or Joseph Goebbels, charged to propagandize and flummox
Could become a talking head with his own show on Fox
While Eichmann and his concentration camp guards
Would be pole watchers, checking our registration cards

And those entitlement programs that never really worked
Our leaders bold proposals they've flip flopped and shirked
Would Nazis be like these windsocks and spin it?
Or would they throw grandma off the cliff? ...In a Wehrmacht minute!

Did you write it?

Yes

 

[IlarMeilyr]

"Visceral Poetry"

Republicans and Nazis we should never compare
To do so would be outrageous and unfair!
But there's a question that continually keeps me awake
Would old Nazis good Republicans make?

Republicans could never be Nazis, for goodness sake!
But could Nazis, in the Grand Old Party, ever partake?
Could the founding fathers of the Thousand Year Reich
Adapt to the party of a Thousand Points of Light?

Given some thought, it's not so unfeasible
Even General Eisenhower thought it conceivable
When he found Wernher Von Braun hiding in the thistles
Only to make him father of NASA and our ballistic missiles

Given that example, why couldn't more rehabilitate their brand?
This time, be good soldiers for the Republican high command
Wouldn't Rommel, a Panzer Commander of Field Marshal rank
Be equally comfortable running a right wing think tank?

Or Joseph Goebbels, charged to propagandize and flummox
Could become a talking head with his own show on Fox
While Eichmann and his concentration camp guards
Would be pole watchers, checking our registration cards

And those entitlement programs that never really worked
Our leaders bold proposals they've flip flopped and shirked
Would Nazis be like these windsocks and spin it?
Or would they throw grandma off the cliff? ...In a Wehrmacht minute!

^ quite full retard goes the Impenitent

 

[derk]

"Visceral Poetry"

Republicans and Nazis we should never compare
To do so would be outrageous and unfair!
But there's a question that continually keeps me awake
Would old Nazis good Republicans make?

Republicans could never be Nazis, for goodness sake!
But could Nazis, in the Grand Old Party, ever partake?
Could the founding fathers of the Thousand Year Reich
Adapt to the party of a Thousand Points of Light?

Given some thought, it's not so unfeasible
Even General Eisenhower thought it conceivable
When he found Wernher Von Braun hiding in the thistles
Only to make him father of NASA and our ballistic missiles

Given that example, why couldn't more rehabilitate their brand?
This time, be good soldiers for the Republican high command
Wouldn't Rommel, a Panzer Commander of Field Marshal rank
Be equally comfortable running a right wing think tank?

Or Joseph Goebbels, charged to propagandize and flummox
Could become a talking head with his own show on Fox
While Eichmann and his concentration camp guards
Would be pole watchers, checking our registration cards

And those entitlement programs that never really worked
Our leaders bold proposals they've flip flopped and shirked
Would Nazis be like these windsocks and spin it?
Or would they throw grandma off the cliff? ...In a Wehrmacht minute!

Did you write it?

Yes

But I'm a Republican so I disagree with the typical liberal vitriol of nasty right and its evil plight. Still it was a good waste of a comparison to those heinous in their diabolical direction. For one of mankind's worst political actions.

[ame=http://youtu.be/YXgcxb2lmfY]Duo Aetneo Remembrance - Schindler's List .. solo audio. - YouTube[/ame]

 

[Impenitent]

Although, I will admit, it did compare Republicans to Nazis, my purpose was to illustrate how wrong the Republican agenda is for America.

The right wing think tanks, the propaganda media, the voter intimidation/ID push, and the push back on Medicare, Obamacare, and other Social safety net programs are, to me, so wrong for America, that showing who would also embrace those viewpoints, is necessary to drive home that point.

I expect you to disagree. Perhaps a politician, or better poet could make that point in a less inflammatory way, but that's my way.