“They saw their injured country's woe;
The flaming town, the wasted field;
Then rushed to meet the insulting foe;
They took the spear, - but left the shield.”
―Philip Freneau
Saturday, August 29, 2015
Celebrating Our American Heritage!
For a Fool
On earth the wise man makes the rules,
And is the fool's advisor,
But here the wise are as the fools,
(And no man is the wiser).
For One Who Gaily Sowed His Oats
My days were a thing for me to live,
For others to deplore;
I took of life all it could give;
Rind, inner fruit, and core.
For a Wanton
To men no more than so much cover
For them to doff or try,
I find in death a constant lover;
Here in his arms I lie.
For a Preacher
Vanity of vanities,
All us vanity; yea,
Even the rod He flayed you with
Crumbled and turned to clay.
When next you must excrete, please take the time To gaze upon the contents of the bowl. You will see there the Naked Face of Crime –– The Devil’s version of The Trinity –– A monstrous, odious, tri-partite Whole Whose stench persists into Infinity. For Evil stalked and plagued us in The Garden Tempting us to sacrifice our Soul For the pleasure of the Nether Region’s Warden. You will, of course, be eager quick to flush Away the proof that Hell, indeed, exists, And yet, like an inebriated lush Your mad delusion steadily persists: That no excretory stench from you exists!
Be aware totalitarians Spring not just from vain Aryans. They can be Ecclesiastical Or fanatically fantastical –– Idealistic –– nihilistic –– Or just plain barbarians.
A tyrant is a tyrant is a tyrant, Whether coming from the Right or Left. He'll bite you and afflict you like a fire ant, And then reduce your store of wealth by theft.
A bilious temperament may shower Many a lush and fragrant bower With noxious regurgitation Withering blooms and vegetation. But roots of every healthy plant Remain immune to toxic cant. And soon the stink will clear away As Beauty returns renewed by Decay.
His little trills and chirpings were his best. No music like the nightingale's was born Within his throat; but he, too, laid his breast Upon a thorn.
II. The Pretty Lady
She hated bleak and wintry things alone. All that was warm and quick, she loved too well –– A light, a flame, a heart against her own; It is forever bitter cold, in Hell.
III. The Very Rich Man
He'd have the best, and that was none too good; No barrier could hold, before his terms. He lies below, correct in cypress wood, And entertains the most exclusive worms.
IV. The Fisherwoman
The man she had was kind and clean And well enough for every day, But, oh, dear friends, you should have seen The one that got away!
V. The Crusader
Arrived in Heaven, when his sands were run, He seized a quill, and sat him down to tell The local press that something should be done About that noisy nuisance, Gabriel.
VI. The Actress
Her name, cut clear upon this marble cross, Shines, as it shone when she was still on earth; While tenderly the mild, agreeable moss Obscures the figures of her date of birth.
~ Dorothy Parker (1893-1967)
ADDENDUM:
VII. The Closet Case
He kept his counsel quietly, and thrived In secret reverie, while platitudes And mockery from prejudice derived Surrounded him with violent attitudes.
With faith sincere he never gave up hope, Pursued his life with diligence and zeal, And yet, he wound up swinging from a rope. His death made pseudo-righteousness seem real.
Your first poem reminds me of Zizek's "German" toilet ideology descriptions. The Left are defintiely "French". I like to think that I'm Anglo-English. ;)
I suppose I don't mind looking at it all float there, just so long as I don't have to smell it and examine it with my fingers... In other words, the visual is sufficient. I don't need complete immersion.
They’re rioting in Ferguson (TRA la la la la LA la!) They’re freezing in Maine (TRA la la la la LA!) There’re blizzards up in Buffalo (TRA la la la la LA la!) And the Left Coast needs rain. (TRA la la la la LA!)
The whole country’s fracturing Between both the poles The Right hates the Liberals For their proud self-righteous goals
The blacks hate Koreans, Jews, And Immigrants and such. Now no one likes anybody very much!
But though we are hateful We’re thankful and proud That we have a tank full Of gas of which we’re very proud, Though we know that Some jealous looter someday From sheer spite will light a match And then we will be blown away!
They’re rioting in Ferguson (TRA la la la la LA la!) They’re freezing in Maine (TRA la la la la LA la!) It’s no fun to be a white American (TRA la la la la LA la!) Now it’s nothing but pain. (TRA la la la la LA!)
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteThat was hilarious. A bit 'cramped', maybe!
ReplyDeleteSimply represents the level of contempt I'm feeling for our current political "parties".
ReplyDelete_______ THE UNHOLY TRINITY _______
ReplyDelete________ A Mourning Meditation ________
When next you must excrete, please take the time
To gaze upon the contents of the bowl.
You will see there the Naked Face of Crime ––
The Devil’s version of The Trinity ––
A monstrous, odious, tri-partite Whole
Whose stench persists into Infinity.
For Evil stalked and plagued us in The Garden
Tempting us to sacrifice our Soul
For the pleasure of the Nether Region’s Warden.
You will, of course, be eager quick to flush
Away the proof that Hell, indeed, exists,
And yet, like an inebriated lush
Your mad delusion steadily persists:
That no excretory stench from you exists!
~ Frank Lee A. Farceur
____ A BEASTLY NATURE ____
ReplyDeleteBe aware totalitarians
Spring not just from vain Aryans.
They can be Ecclesiastical
Or fanatically fantastical ––
Idealistic –– nihilistic ––
Or just plain barbarians.
A tyrant is a tyrant is a tyrant,
Whether coming from the Right or Left.
He'll bite you and afflict you like a fire ant,
And then reduce your store of wealth by theft.
~ Anne Animus
_____ BILE NEED NOT BE VILE ____
ReplyDeleteA bilious temperament may shower
Many a lush and fragrant bower
With noxious regurgitation
Withering blooms and vegetation.
But roots of every healthy plant
Remain immune to toxic cant.
And soon the stink will clear away
As Beauty returns renewed by Decay.
~ FreeThinke
TOMBSTONES in the STARLIGHT
ReplyDeleteI. The Minor Poet
His little trills and chirpings were his best.
No music like the nightingale's was born
Within his throat; but he, too, laid his breast
Upon a thorn.
II. The Pretty Lady
She hated bleak and wintry things alone.
All that was warm and quick, she loved too well ––
A light, a flame, a heart against her own;
It is forever bitter cold, in Hell.
III. The Very Rich Man
He'd have the best, and that was none too good;
No barrier could hold, before his terms.
He lies below, correct in cypress wood,
And entertains the most exclusive worms.
IV. The Fisherwoman
The man she had was kind and clean
And well enough for every day,
But, oh, dear friends, you should have seen
The one that got away!
V. The Crusader
Arrived in Heaven, when his sands were run,
He seized a quill, and sat him down to tell
The local press that something should be done
About that noisy nuisance, Gabriel.
VI. The Actress
Her name, cut clear upon this marble cross,
Shines, as it shone when she was still on earth;
While tenderly the mild, agreeable moss
Obscures the figures of her date of birth.
~ Dorothy Parker (1893-1967)
ADDENDUM:
VII. The Closet Case
He kept his counsel quietly, and thrived
In secret reverie, while platitudes
And mockery from prejudice derived
Surrounded him with violent attitudes.
With faith sincere he never gave up hope,
Pursued his life with diligence and zeal,
And yet, he wound up swinging from a rope.
His death made pseudo-righteousness seem real.
~ Oxcart Wylde
ReplyDelete____________ FINIS ____________
When someone is of wit bereft
It's likely he comes from the Left.
What he advocates is theft
From those most able, quick and deft.
~ Anne Animus
lmbooo! I shall try this recipe right now! NOT! LOL
ReplyDeleteHAPPY SUNDAY my friend!! xoxox Keep up the great fight! :)
Thanks Angel! It's always comforting to know that you and others do!
ReplyDeleteYour first poem reminds me of Zizek's "German" toilet ideology descriptions. The Left are defintiely "French". I like to think that I'm Anglo-English. ;)
ReplyDeleteI suppose I don't mind looking at it all float there, just so long as I don't have to smell it and examine it with my fingers... In other words, the visual is sufficient. I don't need complete immersion.
ReplyDelete...with corresponding sensory overload.
ReplyDelete_ Fandango in Ferguson _
ReplyDeleteThey’re rioting in Ferguson
(TRA la la la la LA la!)
They’re freezing in Maine
(TRA la la la la LA!)
There’re blizzards up in Buffalo
(TRA la la la la LA la!)
And the Left Coast needs rain.
(TRA la la la la LA!)
The whole country’s fracturing
Between both the poles
The Right hates the Liberals
For their proud self-righteous goals
The blacks hate Koreans, Jews,
And Immigrants and such.
Now no one likes anybody very much!
But though we are hateful
We’re thankful and proud
That we have a tank full
Of gas of which we’re very proud,
Though we know that
Some jealous looter someday
From sheer spite will light a match
And then we will be blown away!
They’re rioting in Ferguson
(TRA la la la la LA la!)
They’re freezing in Maine
(TRA la la la la LA la!)
It’s no fun to be a white American
(TRA la la la la LA la!)
Now it’s nothing but pain.
(TRA la la la la LA!)
~ FT with apologies to Sheldon Harnick