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ConnectHook Apr 2023
Despair

God knows them.
They are what they drop:
Subhuman trash
Strewing litter
Fouling creation
Transtrashification;
God sees them.
They will answer
To Him.
Trash is thrown out
then burned.
PROMPT 21:
choose an abstract noun, and then use that as the title for a poem
that contains very short lines, and at least one invented word.
ConnectHook Apr 2023
Big man him return soon-soon

Arrive iron flying house wing-wing from sky

Great man him USA bring big gun make fire-fire every village

All bad man them punish red-white-blue magic heaven cloth

Him business suit holy roller CIA cut down jungle

Teach fake Jesus make rich-rich many pig many feast

Teach all man money-money

Bringee iPhone 14 big-big tablet great magic picture-box

Many bead many mirror big candy

Firewater sweet-sweet MarlboroBudweiser

Bringee dollar bringee big food:

CocaColaSpamWorldBankDisneyNetflixPorn

Makee island shopping mall many-many

Our people happy fat-fat many big gun

Big medicine make more baby

Now happy island sing big Amerika song-song

All village wait AmerikaUSA return come back

Amerika come again soon-soon
PROMPT 20:
Have you ever heard someone wonder what future archaeologists, whether human or from alien civilization, will make of us? Today, I’d like to challenge you to answer that question in poetic form.
ConnectHook Apr 2023
The worst monsters are REAL.

                         Sword and Scale


A True Crime binge has brought me here
To share with you my darkest fear:

Earth’s eternal curse: the wicked.
Criminals can play both sides—
Guilt may finally be acquitted,
Truth unites when sin divides.

Where humanity is shattered
Thin blue lines have always mattered

Thank the Lord for good policemen. . .
(Women too, let truth be told.)
All shall be revealed in heaven;
Badges there transcend mere gold.

Law and justice light the pyre—
Thugs and pigs deserve their fire.

We, the living, should be grateful
For the ones who do what’s right.
Exposing all the hidden hateful:
Our great duty in this fight.
PROMPT 19: write a poem about something that scared you –
or was used to scare you – and which still haunts you.
ConnectHook Apr 2023
A brilliant choice, dear. Even finer: grand hopeful inventions, jibes, kaleidoscopic lyrics making new optic psychedelia qualify reality. Semitic tribes ululate; visions waver. Xenophilia, your zither!
PROMPT 18:
write an abecedarian poem –
a poem in which the word choice follows the order of the alphabet.
ConnectHook Apr 2023
Idealize them once they’re gone.
Pity is bestowed by victors;
Evening thus recalls the dawn—
Truth revised by truth’s depicters.

Swooning for the Noble Savage,
That comes later. First comes war.
Conquerors arrive, then ravage:
Dominance worth fighting for.

The conquerors, in retrospect,
Describe their subjugated foe
In shades politically correct
(After they’re defeated, though…)

Ambushes and scalps for dinner—
Pretty pictures of the past:
Airbrushed touch-ups from the winner;
Real depictions cannot last.

Idealizing distant lives
While snug inside your comfy home
Is fine; your living standard thrives.
But Gaul had other views of Rome . . .
NaPoWriMo #17 (off-prompt)
ConnectHook Apr 2023
No quiero culito mierdoso
Con fragancia fea del pecado.
Mejor un trasero glorioso
Con belleza y vida mostrado.

No me gustan las nalgas sucias;
Con olor a humanidad–
Yo las quiero con ricas astucias
Y fragancia de la libertad.
Unos versos piadosos para Uds.
ConnectHook Apr 2023
Thou Ethiopian muse of mine: attend.
Now let my words wound souls and after, mend.
It’s time to slay some golden calves and knock
Some gods from off their pedestals. Let’s rock.
(I’d like my veal in gold-dust, with a side
Of injured Afrocentric racial pride.
)

Moses cut an oppressor down, who bled…
Moses buried him in the sand, then fled.
(Every ****** son of Adam bleeds out red.)
Midian offered shelter to the killer.
I hope you like my prefatory filler . . .

Remember in the desert how the tribes
Put up with Moses’ scolding diatribes,
Yet quickly fell for Aaron’s baby bull?
They paid for it, the half and then in full
By wandering around for forty years
And drinking bitter waters (Moses’ tears).
They even whined about his sultry bride;
Not Zipporah—his later, darker ride.
Let Ethiopia rise. She still is blameless
And Moses’ second wife here lauded nameless.

Discerning Israel means: there once were slaves.
Egyptians know the God of Hebrews saves.
Yehudah is no more the chosen clan
Than Joseph is old Pharaoh’s right-hand man.
And who is freed from *******, and who’s not
Should make us pause—observe . . . then think a lot.

Some tribes are pale-faced, others darker still.
And none can claim to grasp God’s perfect will.
Let **** haters rise—and leave the room.
Black racists too, be gone; and I’ll resume
My question: who’s oppressed, and who’s a grifter . . .
And how a curse descends, and what’s the lifter.
Perhaps you are a Hebrew . . . yet, some curse
Is evident in how you make things worse
By raging over long-past wrongs and rights
(Passive-aggressive lovers’ quarrel with whites…)
While Indo-Europeans watch the fun,
All Asia sighs, and prays God’s will be done.

Noah’s second grandson, Canaanite cow,
Oh golden calf, toward whom we’re forced to bow,
You sure can DANCE, and jump, and chant bad rhymes,
Cashing that blank check for slavery’s crimes.
The state commemorates your orator;
Content of character must come later (?)
You crack us up. Pure abomination
Promoted as artistic creation.
Your tag, your name—like ***** sprayed on walls.
Your neighborhood? Wherever garbage falls.
You’re born in freedom. Now you sample beats
Enslaved to violent nonsense in the streets.
That silly slang, new sneakers, dumb fashions
Showcase well your underlying passions.
Egypt’s kings? More like bad dangerous clowns
Revealing thuggish souls in sullen frowns;
Slurring unintelligibly your words
Which leave your lips like Lucifer’s own turds.
You’re laughable in your provocation;
Begging us to adulate your nation.
We must (MUST we?) celebrate your culture
And venerate what spawns from sinful nature.

You say you have it bad, you’re still enchained;
The Civil War unfought and and nothing gained . . .
You claim to be oppressed this day and age?
It seems you’re just excusing childish rage.
Go liberate yourself then, loudmouth slave.
Prove to the world that JESUS cannot SAVE.

Victims exist, others play the Race Card,
And seek a foe to blame when life gets hard.
Or worse: demand race-based reparations
Lining bank accounts with their frustrations.
Such money has been ransomed, in the form
Of public schools and welfare. Bring your storm
Of virtue-signal cries that I’m a bigot;
But spades will be called in spades—so DIG it:
Hope you can keep those Liberals on your side,
To con them as you take them for a ride.
Don’t compromise their cluelessness. Stay woke
To keep us laughing at your ethnic joke:
Ratcheting up the destructive drama.
Hate this whiteness? My reply: Yo’ mama.
For any son can knock up any daughter
Regardless of the racial myths they taught her;
We are one species. Sorry, but it’s true.
(Wish it were not, observing some of you…)

Muse of mine, Kushitic damsel, don’t leave.
You’ve heard me out thus far. I still believe
That there’s a remnant of Man’s fallen race
Who yet can be restored by God’s own grace
Regardless of their smarts, or style, or hue.
Fear GOD and live . . . for such were some of you.
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