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644 · Apr 2017
Pardon My French
ConnectHook Apr 2017
You may cover the stench with a potpourri—
while you gag, as you finger your rosary.
Sacrosanct nourriture…
or decayed pourriture?
(Other patrons might label it Popery.)

Though the tepidly Protestant matron
of a church that is stagnant and state-run
does not care about Luther,
We’ll bother to truth her
with Calvin or Knox as our patron.

Though the Vatican’s bottomless coffers
make some very un-Lutheran offers,
I would rather talk Tetzel
(with beer and a pretzel)
and drink with the rebels and scoffers.

We forget that the birth of the Kirk
was a vicious, un-Catholic work
One recalls ****** Mary…
and Knox was no faerie.
His doctrine drove Satan berserk.

Many chairmen, deficient in wit
who on flimsy theologies sit
with no justification
hate predestination,
reviling it more than a bit.

Barthelemy (in French: St. Bartholomew)
was unpleasant, as most of the martyrs knew
Roman Catholic correction
or violent deception?
In heaven, they’re getting the overview…

People gag, and then murmur the rosary
seeking solace in incense or potpourri
you must pardon my French
but this damnable stench
smells like nothing so much as like Popery.
napowrimo #10

This new format ***** .
Where's the italic and bold?
Eliot blew it.

(my Haiku for the day)
639 · Apr 2018
Litany of Limerick
ConnectHook Apr 2018
One World Limerick

The notion of nations united
gets the global progressives excited.
Their party of Babel
is ******’s own rabble
(we’re left with the Right uninvited).


Values Clarification Limerick

Many worldlings (whose ways we bemoan)
hope their lives we’ll approve and condone.
But we couldn’t care less
for the views they profess;
we just wish they would leave us alone


Roman Limerick

Our antichrist leaders (so Fabian)
are more Nero, and less like Octavian.
So with Caesars and salad
I’ll dress up my ballad.
(The future’s plebeian or Flavian.)


Kente Pajamas Limerick

A racist obtuse Afro-whiner
Tried to give the right-wing a black shiner
While applauding Obama
He railed at my mama
His manners could be a lot finer  .  .  .


Apocalyptic Limerick

The riddles of John’s Revelation
imply a large-scale devastation.
The end is not too clear
but looks rather nuclear:
a well-deserved A–bomb-in-nation.


Freethinking Limerick

An atheist, weary of fables
Found his intellect turning the tables.
He declared: As a nihilist
held to a higher list,
I’m for erasing the labels.


Mendacious Limerick

Fake propaganda as news
only fools those it’s meant to confuse
there is wrong, there is right
when you’re left in the light
of a nation with little to lose.
Um . . . men and women
are the ONLY two genders.
Deal with my Haiku!

PS: anyone else having trouble with italics & bold recently?
They're not working for me
636 · Sep 2015
Lines to J.J.
ConnectHook Sep 2015
Jesse Jackson, mug full of mush
hustling, shuffling race cards—
hush.

your mouth mutters on,
with vague perversity
staking claims upon diversity;

Stirring pots and agitating
mumbling, blaming, *******-baiting.

We know this is your bread and butter—
but must you thusly slur and mutter?

Rather than home-cooking sessions,
take some elocution lessons.

Spit those crackers out yo' mouth—
the gravy train is headed South . . .

Get a REAL job. Join the People.
Stop carding wool and fleecing sheeple.

You're hard for the herd to understand—
if I were you I'd change my brand.
https://connecthook.wordpress.com/2014/03/21/hush-yo-puppies-grit-yo-greens/

☺☻
633 · Sep 2015
† Ideal N †
ConnectHook Sep 2015
Thy name, somber lady, illuminates heaven

As dazzling light penetrates into shadow.

Enlaid in rare colors (oh Lord, what a lead-in),

Your blackness out-veils the proverbial widow.

Iron maidens get nailed.  Don’t rest in denial

And lie to your soul that your actually dealin’.

I only ask this to your face:  that you’ll smile

Unlocking your Gothic cathedrals to kneel in.

No death-dirges here.  I’m no spike-studded user

Eventually yours to pursue until captured.

Let’s hope there is time – but we risk being raptured.

I’m not into pain;  not a sado-abuser.

Don’t masochists also need fun in the sun?

All I want is a friend.    So I hope you’re the one…
Name: NELIDA  Gender: FEMALE   Nationality: UNKNOWN
[Meaning derived from Eleanor: "shining light"]
Continent/Origin: ANDEAN SOURCES OF THE AMAZON
628 · Jan 2019
Disposable Haiku
ConnectHook Jan 2019
Haiku lifts our souls
to views beyond the village:
distant Fuji. (****)

Shoppingu-sentah
Aisu-krimu sandu-witch
Robotic Gul-friend

Kamikaze beer
wriggling tentacle skewered
Hell: Japanese bar

They did deserve it.
Both Fat Man and Little boy.
I'm part ***. Eat me.

Seriously what
is wrong with the Japanese?
They need Jesus Christ !
Love/Hate relationship with Haiku.
Apologies to Basho-San
628 · Apr 2018
Intergalactic Hookup
ConnectHook Apr 2018
Climactic excitation
cosmic copulation
sidereal sensation
astral frenzy
sighs, stars, moans
her moans, hormones
interstellar *******
endlessly interesting
of course.
Reduced to this—
cosmic carnality:
black holes, shooting stars
spurts of intergalactic light
spasms of ejection
from the corona; solar fire
deep into lunar mysteries
outer space beyond her solar system
I seek dark beauty
new direction
off course.
Waiting
for a bigger better bang...
(out of space)
HAIKU—you feel me,
all about gettin' that WORD
well-composed, gnome sane?
623 · Apr 2018
New Children's Lit Goes Out
ConnectHook Apr 2018
Young reader’s lit is a lucrative gig;
Feeds slop to learner like waste to a pig.
We love to get them reading.   Ah . . . but what?
Such open-minded offal as would shut
The hallowed sluice of Wisdom in a blink.
Grand waste of authorship, paper and ink
Noble trees pulped, and presses run—for this?
Distasteful tales and messages that miss
By so far they ought never have been told
Let alone color-printed, bound and sold.
Grotesqueries and morbid cultural rot
Raw ugliness (intentional or not)
Drips forth from this modern infantile lit
For any reasonable end unfit.
Behold P.C. fluffery, ethnic vibes
(Half of it scribed by lost Israelite tribes)
Global fables for our brave new deviants
Multi Kulti nonsense; non-experience:
Mafupe’s New Ungwa, Tano Means Five
Sho-Sho Goes the Wira-Wira.  Such jive . . .
My, such juvenile literary news
Serving to propagate progressive views:
Tia Fulana the Red Agitator
Grand Dad’s a Genderqueer Instigator . . .
Frida: Surrealist Queen of Misfit Art
Smelly Joe’s Super-Duper Stinky ****
Pages that dribble like a sneeze-filled rag
Well-pitched witchery, spelled out by some hag:
Diego the Dinosaur Reads Karl Marx
Trani the Modern Mixed-up Kitten Barks
Volume on volume of frivolous trash
All New York Times-reviewed (for kiddie cash):
Zombies Want Candy, Jimmy Has Three Moms
Snot-fest For Sassy Sue (Special Ed Bombs).
Manga mediocrity, attention-span killers:
Useless mind-wasting library-fillers.
Humpy and Fluffy Hunt for Chocolate Eggs
Barrels of froth (more like the tepid dregs ?)
Squirrel’s Fall Harvest Festival Goes Nuts
(Death by a thousand cutesy bookish cuts):
Useless reams of mindless marketed waste
With effete tribute paid to vilest taste
A globalist ghetto hype-o-rama
Party that starts and ends with Obama;
Covers flush with myriad fake awards
Encouraging our failing culture towards
The darkened depths. And who should bear the blame?
Publishers who mutually stroke for fame!
Such propaganda aimed at your child
After being mocked, ought to be reviled.
To hail such shameful writing as diverse
Actually serves to achieve the reverse;
Revisionists (more like demons than elves)
Have loaded your local library shelves.
The smoldering wick of so-called children’s lit,
Foolish lamp of decadent light, unfit
To illuminate or to froth about
Thus wavers, flickers faintly, and goes out.
Nationalism
will soon be the new normal . . .
so drink more soy milk.
623 · Jul 2017
Shine, Perishing Republic
ConnectHook Jul 2017
Robinson Jeffers (1887 – 1962)*


While this America settles in the mould of its vulgarity, heavily thickening to empire
And protest, only a bubble in the molten mass, pops and sighs out, and the mass hardens,
I sadly smiling remember that the flower fades to make fruit, the fruit rots to make earth.
Out of the mother; and through the spring exultances, ripeness and decadence; and home to the mother.

You making haste haste on decay: not blameworthy; life is good, be it stubbornly long or suddenly

A mortal splendor: meteors are not needed less than mountains:  shine, perishing republic.

But for my children, I would have them keep their distance from the thickening center; corruption
Never has been compulsory, when the cities lie at the monster’s feet there are left the mountains.
And boys, be in nothing so moderate as in love of man, a clever servant, insufferable master.
There is the trap that catches noblest spirits, that caught–they say– God, when he walked on earth.
http://www.english.illinois.edu/maps/poets/g_l/jeffers/shine.htm
ConnectHook Sep 2015
New York! –
The poets you have bred are few,
And how to rhyme they’ve not a clue –
Oh, fork!
(I know that word should sound like ‘muck’,
But that would make this effort ****);
Well, talk –
Why do the poems in your style
So often form, of crap, a pile?
We balk
At ‘crack’ as drug, or woman’s part,
With dreams of giving life to art,
You dork!
‘Here’s looking at you, kid’ – oh, please!
That ****-free quote is as is cheese
To chalk
Compared with Danny, who’s ‘oh … Kaye’,
And Allen, in a ‘Would he’ way.

To walk
Fifth Avenue, where storm clouds ****
The countryside with ticker-tape …
Pop cork?
‘Bronx hill new moan here’ was the cause;
But Central Park is where to pause
For torque
As that’s the place you would unwind
To wrench from vagrants, that you find
May stalk;
But, anyway, your poets stink –
Their barrel, they do need, I think,
To caulk:
Your school of poets, meter log,
Like what you get in synagogue
Of pork!
© Colonialist April 2014 (WordPress)

https://colonialist.wordpress.com/2014/04/21/the-really-awful-mannerisms-in-new-york-school-poetry/

My fellow poetry blogger Colonialist passed away earlier this year.
I am proud to have one of his poems here for you to read.
615 · Apr 2016
Some War Over the Rainbow
ConnectHook Apr 2016
The Sovereign reigns on high
enthroned behind the sky
Aware of our distressing woe
He oversees the tragic show
as lies with bullets fly.

Unmoved he sees the dead
beholding him in dread
unable to reverse their course
their being severed from its source
aware of what’s ahead.

The judgement never ends
although we miss our friends
who never yielded unto grace
and now must read upon Christ’s face
a message that offends.

a  poem a day for NaPoWriMo2016

www.connecthook.wordpress.com
613 · Sep 2021
Pro-semitic Verses
ConnectHook Sep 2021
Remove the EL
from GOLD
and you get . . . ?
99.9 %  PURE DEITY

https://evidenceforchristianity.org/is-the-hebrew-god-el-just-borrowed-from-canaanite-deities-is-yahweh-derived-from-the-caananite-god-el/
608 · Feb 2018
Leave Nothing to Chants
ConnectHook Feb 2018
HEY HEY !   ** ** !
Worn-out chants have GOT to GO !

More TRUMP / more PAY PAY PAY
more Greatness U.$.A.  !

** ** !   HEY HEY !
Donald Trump has GOT to STAY!
Seriously, Lefties;
you need some less monotonous and more inspiring chants.  Sigh . . .
606 · May 2017
Linked In vs. Let Out
ConnectHook May 2017
It's about loving what you do for being who you are, tooting your own horn to celebrate yourself as you tumble out of your blog right on your Facebook. It's all about the you in you showcasing  your own self to show what you got and prove why you're the star. The next big thing in social media: it's so over now. The new platform was old hat before you even upped the stats while tipping your hat to the old social platforms. Why? Content. It's all about posting original content so you can get caught in your social media network, haul yourself to shore, and fillet yourself on Twitter. It's about drinking outside of the box, parked, with a beer on your dashboard. Upping the stat-check until the chat stacks its own status update without you. It's about getting the apps BEFORE they are released so you get in on the ground floor as they leap from the burning upper levels. It's about following yourself until they know that you know that the blind are leading the ditch-diggers to water.  Work smart, fish smart, let the net do the work as you socially engage the fish community on social media.

-- Facebook boosted ads is where it’s at in posted social advertising.
    
-- Instagram is a serious branding tool for brands of any kind, especially for ranch-hands of free-range cattle, cowboys and indian tech gurus.

-- Boosted posts do well if you want posts to boost more frequently than existing fans or their friends.

--You know your In-platform ad tracking analytics are top-notch when your train leaves without you from Big Six platform.
604 · Sep 2019
Regrettable Swede
ConnectHook Sep 2019
Greta, oh Greta, you’re freaking out.
Our planet won’t perish. You'll grow up.
Hyped and promoted by globalist funds,
Your unbalanced drama makes us cringe.

Greta, oh Greta, you’re barking mad;
Your handlers have let out too much leash.
Time to lie down on your favorite mat
And pray to the Lord Jesus Christ.
What’s infuriating about manipulations by the Non Profit Industrial Complex is that they harvest the goodwill of the people, especially young people. They target those who were not given the skills and knowledge to truly think for themselves by institutions which are designed to serve the ruling class. Capitalism operates systematically and structurally like a cage to raise domesticated animals. Those organizations and their projects which operate under false slogans of humanity in order to prop up the hierarchy of money and violence are fast becoming some of the most crucial elements of the invisible cage of corporatism, colonialism and militarism.”

— Hiroyuki Hamada, artist

PS: gotta see this one
https://youtu.be/golAjKMDuVk
603 · Feb 2017
Born 2B Data-Driven
ConnectHook Feb 2017
In a panic, having lost control of the vehicle at high speed and swerving off the Data Highway, I assessed the impending impact and made quick mental notes for a feasibility study as the stationary tree moved closer rapidly. In a flash, ultimate outcomes passed before my eyes, like the newest edition of a celestial Clearslide/PowerPoint/Prezi presentation tool:

• Data drives performance as winter wind whips the data-driven snow.

• Real-time numbers are to outcomes what God is to Heaven.

• Data supersedes Life as Christ supersedes the angels.

• Vigorous data collection enhances and informs rigorous data selection.

• Data is to outcomes as outcomes are to income.

• Objectives tied to measurable outcomes bring numbers back into the game, turning benchwarmers into real-time benchmarks.

• Data quality ensures accountability, facilitates transparency, reducing redundancy.

• Performance indicators are ultimate vindicators, turning competitors into partners and sustaining creative growth by creating sustainable change.

• Data are plural – but only to the Brits…

These bulleted staff-development phantasms surged into my mind right before the massive, jarring crunch when my vehicle smashed into the Tree of Life that grows just off the Data-Driven Highway. I cannot recall the moment of collision, nor the impact assessment study that preceded it. It seemed many, many Continuing Staff Improvement sessions later when I awoke to the soothing pastel shades and muted color scheme of a projected graphic full of squiggly arrows, cyber-hieroglyphics and professionally-presented slides filled with corporate jargon. I was finally in Data Heaven where the numbers never lie but rise to live forever.  

    **I had achieved my final measurable objective!
Duck the Fata !
╭┫ⓞⓘⓝⓚ┃
┈╰┓▋▋┏╯╯╰━━━━╯
╭━┻╮╲┗━━━━╮╭╮┈
┃▎▎┃╲╲╲╲╲╲┣━╯┈
╰━┳┻▅╯
603 · Feb 2018
Modern Verse is Madness
ConnectHook Feb 2018
Lines break
              weirdly

white   space   is   r a c i s t

repetition emotes imagery

crypt  ic  ally / intention ally

dull erudition . . .
pompous verbosity

              rhymeless atrocity
                      lines / break
Weirdly-spaced lines
Of cryptic observations
Doth not a poem make . . .
602 · Sep 2015
♦ Chacaltaya ♦
ConnectHook Sep 2015
My dear damsel of glaciers and scuttling roaches

In Andean splendor you startle my heart.

Still seeking a summit, your coldness reproaches;

So little I know you – in whole or in part.

Now that winter recedes as the springtime encroaches

Envision a greening of sorcery’s art.

Lighten up, dark enchantress of icy approaches;

I hope and I pray global warming may start…

Does another bad sonnet addressed to her highness

Allow for a thaw to begin in her soul?

Get over your winter of taciturn shyness!

Or is frozen entombment your element, witch?

This old necrophile waits for a smile (or a twitch).

Hell, I’d marry your corpse – but mere friendship’s my goal.
https://connecthook.wordpress.com/mine/nelida/
ConnectHook Feb 2017
OR: Benchmarks for Bench-Warming

The author, after recently publishing
Working to Frame Approaches Towards Approaching Frameworks: Contextualizing Systemic Interventions as an Interventional System in Context
collaborated with himself and co-wrote
Granting Greater Rights to Grant-Writers:
Turning Down the Echo in an Eco-Downturn.

Both papers were well-received and build on the strength of the author's initial work, published in 2018, entitled:
Speed-Dating the Data: Progressive Measures towards Measurable Progress

The author's third paper examined day-by-day data deterrence as a strategy to enhance documentation of impact towards tracking the implementation of benchmarks. The main thesis of the author's 78-page analysis was that out-dated data, when out on a date, flirts with obsolescence by trying to ford the current affordability when instead, it could be out-sourcing data while invoicing clients in adolescence—rather than dragging the river for dead data. All three publications are recommended and underwritten by overwhelmed authorized ghost writers.
Duck the Fata !
┈┏━╮╭━┓┈╭━━━━╮
┈┃┏┗┛┓┃╭┫ⓞⓘⓝⓚ┃
┈╰┓▋▋┏╯╯╰━━━━╯
╭━┻╮╲┗━━━━╮╭╮┈
┃▎▎┃╲╲╲╲╲╲┣━╯┈
595 · Mar 2018
Insta-Limerick
ConnectHook Mar 2018
A princess of poets, Miss Kaur
Was promoted through publishing's power.
Scrawling lines for a hobby,
This perky Punjabi
Turned rupees to dollars per hour
Kaur is a name used by Sikh women as either a middle or last name [. . .]
Since 'Kaur' means "Princess", the name acts as a symbol of equality among men and women.
(from Wikipedia entry on "Kaur")

https://thepoetslist.com/2018/01/23/poetry-world-split-via-guardian/
592 · Apr 2017
Global Fail
ConnectHook Apr 2017
Lucifer, **** of our pornified planet,
gun-running seraph, whose reign is unraveling
tries yet again to consolidate, babbling.
Heaven will **** it.

Paradigms shifting, his queendom implodes.
His cave-dwelling subjects discover true sight—
then they storm the projection-room: new light.
Dawn, delayed, forebodes.

No more denial, no more to defend
dictatorial oversight, global sedation.
The pharmacological indoctrination
has now reached its end.
NaPoWriMo #2

Take the easy way:
call it poetry. End it
like a samurai

https://connecthook.wordpress.com/2017/04/02/global-fail/
590 · Nov 2017
Fishy Haiku
ConnectHook Nov 2017
Nippon carp pool scene
media feeding frenzy
fake news: foul sushi

Great orange savior
magnanimous provider
feeds outside the box.

Eastern harmony
while fake news carps at Donald . . .
Media: go to  hell.
Let Eastern dawn illuminate harmonious meeting of brilliant minds. Dear Leader, Orange Savior of Mankind, makes great deals yet also is kind to gentle fish.  From his all-providing hand the sacred Koi enjoy a portion of benificence. Great leader and fellow-citizen Trump strides boldly into enemies' flashbulbs, like vanguard of populist nationalism confronting weak running dogs and reactionary landlords of globalist tyranny. Fish who refuse his generosity must hide in cold deep, risking hunger and loneliness, condemned by the People's glorious movement toward revolutionary rebirth.
Traitors and false journalists: you are FISH-FOOD.
ALL HAIL DEAR LEADER AND FORWARD-THINKING PEOPLE'S HERO DONALD J. TRUMP

https://youtu.be/ZrXNDbZF-jw
585 · Aug 2019
Repostería Poética
ConnectHook Aug 2019
Butter-baste in haste
For better poet-taste
Reposting pastry
Poet-tastery
Pronounced as mastery:
Poetastery

Past repast
It goes down fast
Poetic firsts shall be last
Lyrically-paced
Poetry-based
Poetry's straitjacket, unlaced
Lack of meaning showcased
I just vomited it up
(for your erudite perusal)

*** I'm like SO totally embarrassed.
Just found out how "poetastery" is actually pronounced.
I'm all LOL just like ***.  
Fer reelz.  ☺♪☻☺☻ ♪♫
582 · Nov 2015
Thanksgiving 2015
ConnectHook Nov 2015
Oh, give thanks to the Lord, for He is good!
For His mercy endures forever.
Let the redeemed of the Lord say so,
Whom He has redeemed from the hand of the enemy,
And gathered out of the lands,
From the east and from the west,
From the north and from the south.
They wandered in the wilderness in a desolate way;
They found no city to dwell in.
Hungry and thirsty,
Their soul fainted in them.
Then they cried out to the Lord in their trouble,
And He delivered them out of their distresses.
And He led them forth by the right way,
That they might go to a city for a dwelling place.
Oh, that men would give thanks to the Lord for His goodness,
And for His wonderful works to the children of men!
For He satisfies the longing soul,
And fills the hungry soul with goodness.
Those who sat in darkness and in the shadow of death,
Bound in affliction and irons—
Because they rebelled against the words of God,
And despised the counsel of the Most High,
Therefore He brought down their heart with labor;
They fell down, and there was none to help.
Then they cried out to the Lord in their trouble,
And He saved them out of their distresses.
He brought them out of darkness and the shadow of death,
And broke their chains in pieces.
Oh, that men would give thanks to the Lord for His goodness,
And for His wonderful works to the children of men!
For He has broken the gates of bronze,
And cut the bars of iron in two.
Fools, because of their transgression,
And because of their iniquities, were afflicted.
Their soul abhorred all manner of food,
And they drew near to the gates of death.
Then they cried out to the Lord in their trouble,
And He saved them out of their distresses.
He sent His word and healed them,
And delivered them from their destructions.
Oh, that men would give thanks to the Lord for His goodness,
And for His wonderful works to the children of men!
Let them sacrifice the sacrifices of thanksgiving,
And declare His works with rejoicing.
Those who go down to the sea in ships,
Who do business on great waters,
They see the works of the Lord,
And His wonders in the deep.
For He commands and raises the stormy wind,
Which lifts up the waves of the sea.
They mount up to the heavens,
They go down again to the depths;
Their soul melts because of trouble.
They reel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken man,
And are at their wits’ end.
Then they cry out to the Lord in their trouble,
And He brings them out of their distresses.
He calms the storm,
So that its waves are still.
Then they are glad because they are quiet;
So He guides them to their desired haven.
Oh, that men would give thanks to the Lord for His goodness,
And for His wonderful works to the children of men!
Let them exalt Him also in the assembly of the people,
And praise Him in the company of the elders.
He turns rivers into a wilderness,
And the watersprings into dry ground;
A fruitful land into barrenness,
For the wickedness of those who dwell in it.
He turns a wilderness into pools of water,
And dry land into watersprings.
There He makes the hungry dwell,
That they may establish a city for a dwelling place,
And sow fields and plant vineyards,
That they may yield a fruitful harvest.
He also blesses them, and they multiply greatly;
And He does not let their cattle decrease.
When they are diminished and brought low
Through oppression, affliction, and sorrow,
He pours contempt on princes,
And causes them to wander in the wilderness where there is no way;
Yet He sets the poor on high, far from affliction,
And makes their families like a flock.
The righteous see it and rejoice,
And all iniquity stops its mouth.
Whoever is wise will observe these things,
And they will understand the lovingkindness of the Lord.
Turkey shoots stuffing out of Russian Fighter at Border
582 · Nov 2017
Thankless Limericks
ConnectHook Nov 2017
Career politicians, who cluck
as they strut with an impotent pluck
make me sick with the season
befouling all reason:
they're less of a **** than a cuck.

That gobbler and turkey-neck Mitch
makes me furious—so mad that I twitch.
He obstructs every battle
while jiggling his wattle;
unpardoned, unworthy (but rich).

The patrician political class
is a party that speaks through its ***.
They are lacking in guts
with no ifs, ands, or buts
but I swear: they produce enough gas.



HAPPY THANXGIVING, Fellow Poets
And best wishes to all the Revisionists.
Dig in:  http://tinyurl.com/y9868oqm
581 · Mar 2017
Porneia at the Door
ConnectHook Mar 2017
Girly-girl, I feel you near...
thanks for stopping by (again).
You knock, then whisper in my ear
that S-word mightier than the pen.

I haven't seen you for so long;
beholding now your rosy charms
let me let you right my wrong
within your warm and virtual arms.

Take me to that field of flowers
where the wondrous waters flow.
Temper there my raging powers—
none, save God, will know.
Wish I'd never seen that nekkid lady...
581 · Nov 2016
Incendiary Bestiary
ConnectHook Nov 2016
Unlocked, loaded, let your words flame paper
set arson to thought-control, combust news.
Pyro-dissident: touch fire to their views
Reveal new topographies, mind-shaper.
Spark a candle—a single thin taper.
Subvert what the worldlings dare not refuse.
The herd will always revile or accuse;
but contours alter for you, landscaper—
so chastise darkness. Proclaim what is right.
(When their stable burns down due to your light
or smoldering, implodes, it's not your fault.)
If the status quo will not acquiesce
then muster another frontal assault.
There's no shame in a flame; just incandesce...
TREY GOWDY ROCKS !
581 · Jan 2017
Auguries of Inauguration
ConnectHook Jan 2017
Masked back-packing militants descend on DC.
The instigators' antics indicate true agitator's instincts. When the rest buy it, the best... riot ? Putin set the precedent by rootin' for the President. As for the protestors -- are they seeking to serve justice or just the Secret Service? Joined by thousands of patriot motorcyclists, the black-masked boast of hikers may be lost on a host of bikers. Hmmmm... the silent verve of our veteran friends proves that the violent serve wicked ends. The verge of silence may mean a surge of violence.
While snowflakes melt down, the state will clamp down as militants storm town. Eastern sages know: a mean Taoist turned teen Maoist may raise the base rating for race-baiting just to get a rise. Erasing a different face is not the same as facing a different race (and many of these mad Taoists seem a tad Maoist to me...) Opening the trunk, one forgets that elephants remember: when the mob rules, they rob mules. Democratic icons are stubborn things. Until the bandits are punished let's banish the pundits to the hinterlands of fake news.
        It's inauguration time, Dumbo.
Clenched-fist troublemakers will use any mass gathering as an excuse to undermine civil society. Social media and the irresistible lure of virality have only strengthened their incentive to "FSU" (f—- s—- up). Here's another thing you can take to the bank: "Mainstream" protesters on the streets of D.C. will look the other way at these lawless vandals who leech onto any available cause. Their common goal is not "social justice." It's destabilization and disorder.

from: www.frontpagemag.com
572 · Apr 2016
Hard Cell
ConnectHook Apr 2016
♪☺☻☺♪

Free verse was captured,
confined to a cell
by readers unraptured
in modernist hell.

And there he did languish
while chained to the wall
and desperate in anguish
gave forth a last call:

“Listen and read me—
my muse is the best!
Applaud and then feed me,
your starving guest !

Don’t fall for that beat…
Please ignore their old line.
I’m here. I’m effete.
I’m a modern divine…

I like it in prison
No, really — I’m free!”
(But his lock was awaiting
Your Readership’s key.

For the moderns all lie,
as your readership knows;
Modern poets don’t die—
they just decompose.)
a poem a day for NaPoWriMo2016

www.connecthook.wordpress.com
ConnectHook Apr 2018
Aquel pueblo está cansado
de vivir siempre de esclavo
ya el Sandinismo le dio su lección . . .
y si no se van
aqui está mi brazo
empunañdo en poesia
para darle su cachimba lalalalalalalay laralalalalaylayla  . . .

VIVA NICARAGUA LIBRE !

ABAJO con la CORRUPCION de las clases ELITES

¡ ABAJO con el COMUNISMO y el GLOBALISMO !

Viva MI POESIA para SIEMPRE
El Tirano made his nation angry.
Marxism always fails.
ConnectHook Oct 2016
In spite of all that has been said
transparently undetected,
Alinsky and the departed dead
may vote as the resurrected.
INFORM thyself: 
 http://tinyurl.com/gwkvjbq
567 · Mar 2017
Canto de esperanza
ConnectHook Mar 2017
Α  †  Ω*

Un gran vuelo de cuervos mancha el azul celeste.
Un soplo milenario trae amagos de peste.
Se asesinan los hombres en el extremo Este.

!Ha nacido el apocalíptico Anticristo?
Se han sabido presagios y prodigios se han visto
y parece inminente el retorno de Cristo.

La tierra está preñada de dolor tan profundo
que el soñador imperial, meditabundo,
sufre con las angustias del corazón del mundo.

Verdugos de ideales afligieron la tierra:
en un pozo de sombra la humanidad se encierra
con los rudos molosos del odio y de la guerra.

¡Oh, Señor Jesucristo! ¿Por qué tardas, qué esperas
para tender tu mano de la luz sobre las fieras
y hacer brillar al sol tus divinas banderas?

Surge de pronto y vierte la esencia de la vida
sobre tanta alma loca, triste o emperdernida
que, amante de tinieblas, tu dulce aurora olvida.

Vén, Señor, para hacer la gloria de ti mismo.
Vén con temblor de estrellas y horror de cataclismo,
vén a traer amor y paz sobre el abismo.

Y tu caballo blanco, que miró el visionario,
pase. Y suene el divino clarín extraordinario.
Mi corazón será brasa de tu incensario.

                                              *
Rubé­n Darío  (1867-1916)
Song of Hope    [Translated by Salomón de la Selva]

Vultures a-wing have sullied the glory of the sky;
The winds bear on their pinions the horror of Death’s cry;
Assassinating one another, men rage and fall and die.

Has Antichrist arisen whom John at Patmos saw?
Portents are seen and marvels that fill the world with awe,
And Christ’s return seems pressing, come to fulfill the Law.

The ancient Earth is pregnant with so profound a smart,
The royal dreamer, musing, silent and sad apart,
Grieves with the heavy anguish that rends the world’s great heart.

Slaughterers of ideals with the violence of fate
Have cast man in the darkness of labyrinths intricate
To be the prey and carnage of hounds of war and hate.

Lord Christ! for what art waiting to come in all Thy might
And stretch Thy hands of radiance over these wolves of night,
And spread on high Thy banners and lave the world with light?

Swiftly arise and pour Life’s essence lavishly
On souls that crazed with hunger, or sad, or maddened be,
Who tread the paths of blindness forgetting the dawn and Thee.

Come Lord, to make Thy glory, with lightnings on Thy Brow!
With trembling stars around Thee and cataclysmal woe,
And bring Thy gifts of justice and peace and love below!

Let the dread horse John visioned devouring stars, pass by;
And angels sound the clarion of Judgment from on high.
My heart shall be an ember and in thy censer lie.
561 · Apr 2017
Party of One
ConnectHook Apr 2017
The unstated part of the One-Party State:
non-compliant masses to liquidate.
Religions and tribes unwelcome to stay,
undesirable dissidents in the way;
when humans are resources—nothing more
selective reduction must even the score.
It’s a soft dictatorship: One-Party Lite
while global nimrods suppress the right
to our freedom of thought, word, deed, and speech;
our freedom to overthrow and impeach.
Stay late as you please. The party goes on
in the United Nations of Babylon.
NaPoWriMo #3

Globalist technoids:
data-drive yourselves to death.
Alex Jones still king.

https://connecthook.wordpress.com/2017/04/03/party-of-one/
560 · Oct 2020
Coplas y Cornetas
ConnectHook Oct 2020
Que suenen las trompetas
un don para el presidente:
La salsa lo hará grande
y elevará su mente.

Escuchen el tumbao:
compártanlo libremente—
y que él gane en noviembre
sin tumulto ni incidente.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QNMsw9oADgM
555 · Apr 2017
Reset to Eden
ConnectHook Apr 2017
Each day reminds me that I am depraved

fixated, titillated still with sin

and thinking I’m smart, I’ve ranted and raved

only to wake up again in this skin

wondering if I am actually saved.

Behold the deep cesspool I find within:

unhallowed Self, to whom I am enslaved,

doomed to start over every day.  Begin

again Lord Christ, that sanctifying work

you promised to accomplish through your Word.

**** the vipers that in our garden lurk;

tell of your blood and all that it conferred.

Explain—as on the road to Emmaus;

or dull mortality may dismay us.
NaPoWriMo #20

Euro-globalists
insanely bent on multi-
cultural suicide
541 · Jun 2020
Forensic Limerick
ConnectHook Jun 2020
The deceased, at the time of his death
Contained fentanyl traces, and ****.
Yes, his death was unjust.
Raise a fist, if you must...
for St. George has now breathed his last breath.
"I can't breathe"
541 · Apr 2017
La Kumbia Kalvinista
ConnectHook Apr 2017
La Kumbia Kalvinista no es ritmo vaticano
se baila todo libre con la biblia en la mano

La Kumbia Kalvinista es la onda reformada
las sectas sí prometen—pero no entregan nada

Esta cumbia trascendente, pero poco conocida
es la cumbre de verdad, y predestina pura vida

La Kumbia Kalvinista es la nueva nueva onda
se la cantan las iglesias y ofrecen otra ronda

La Kumbia Kalvinista no lo bailan los de Roma
si un padre lo intenta terminará caído en coma

es un baile teológico que es absurdo mientras lógico
lo baile cada tribu, cada etnia y antropólogo

el papa mismo, y su esposa
bailan esta cumbia fabulosa
tu estado de animo no es nada
sino gracia predestinada

lo bailan los sajones con cojones
lo bailan las alemanas si le dan la ganas
este baile está basado en un ritmo luterano
apetece a los gringos, a los indios, y a fulano
no bailaban los franceses aunque Calvin era suya
si bailaban los escoceses y gritaban aleluya !
NaPoWriMo #23

¿Haiku?  pues... no sé.
es algo chino, yo creo.
Es un poema.
ConnectHook Feb 2017
Just want to unpack a new metric here, folks.
I’m all about making YOUR brand user friendly and empowering others with the tools to do the same. These tools I’m sharing not only help you think outside the box—they actually let you DISMANTLE the box and then REASSEMBLE the box around yourself until it becomes a COFFIN ! Remember, it’s all about YOUR BRAND getting maximum hits. COFFIN is the new cradle—so every hit your site takes, every ‘like‘ your page gets, every ‘tweet’ you hear from every birdie in God’s green trees is like another nail in your coffin.
Take this new metric, use it, share it; unpack the toolkit I give you, and think outside the box as you reassemble it around your mortal self and watch your webpage TRIPLE in HITS.
Remember: **“COFFIN!  It’s the new CRADLE!”
Anyone else had enough of the Data-Driven society?
538 · Feb 2017
Kiss my Assessment
ConnectHook Feb 2017
Folders, name tags, catered coffee—
new ones fade into the last.
Brainstorms, flip-charts, colored markers;
tracing time until it’s past.

Endless satisfaction surveys;
client-focused, data-driven…
rubrics, group collaborations,
ceaseless presentations given.

Is this hell? Or am I dreaming
while the seconds crawl toward death.
Has our closure yet been offered?
(as we wait with bated breath…)

Some day will we gain credentials?
Will we do this in the heavens?
Shall the Lord, upon completion
turn our sixes into sevens?

Would I (as a soul in limbo)
recommend to peers this training?
Yes I would. With one condition:
only save what’s worth retaining.
Don't arrive late or the coffee will be gone...
535 · Feb 2017
Capital Crimes
ConnectHook Feb 2017
Washing tons of money -
laundering gets funny.
525 · Mar 2017
Irie Observations Flagged
ConnectHook Mar 2017
When the gay colors
are removed,
you are left
with the colors
of Rastafari.
Meditation on the GLBTQ banner:
524 · Apr 2017
Lawyerspeak
ConnectHook Apr 2017
And immediately there fell from his eyes as it had been scales:
     and he received sight forthwith
...      [Acts 9:18]

When judges decipher what lawyers speak,
offended defendants may leave confused.
Legalese labyrinths capture the weak;
Babylon's law makes for justice refused.
Enshrined at the ziggurat's doubtful peak
tyrannic gibberish mocks the accused.
He blinks at the courtroom, bewildered freak
as sentences are uttered unrecused.
Cuneiform marks... codified patter—
who dares define such esoteric terms;
in Heaven's eyes does it even matter ?
While the sacrificial defendant squirms,
Justice, unblinded, lifts higher the sword
unscaled eyes beholding—her gaze restored.
NaPoWriMo #7

Study chimpanzees
if you want to find out more
about humankind.

https://connecthook.wordpress.com/
523 · Oct 2017
found poetry: Aphorism
ConnectHook Oct 2017
President Trump's conservative foes
reveal themselves as faux conservatives.


All credit to commentator
MavenNevermore*
at InfoWars:*  http://tinyurl.com/y9rq49me
Definition of aphorism
(from www.merriam-webster.com)

1 :   a concise statement of a principle
2 :   a terse formulation of a truth or sentiment:  adage
3 :   an ingeniously terse style of expression:  aphoristic language
519 · Apr 2019
PROMPT 27
ConnectHook Apr 2019
Shakespear was really
A blak lesbian feminist.
Don’t believe the HYPE.
Haiku in response to a maddening NaPoWriMo prompt:
Here’s all of Shakespeare’s sonnets. You can pick a line you like and use it as the genesis for a new poem. Or make a “word bank” out of a sonnet, and try to build a new poem using the same words (or mostly the same words) as are in the poem. Or you could try to write a new poem that expresses the same idea as one of Shakespeare’s sonnets, like “hey baby, this poem will make you immortal” (Sonnet XVIII) or “I’m really bad at saying I love you but maybe if I look at you adoringly, you’ll understand what
ConnectHook Apr 2018
Apr 28
Hi all !

Having a great time here in post-modern poetry.
We’ve been on the island since Sylvia Plath croaked in ’63.
It’s been a bit smoggy, incoherent  and gratuitously cryptic, but the prison-guards are super-nice and they let us write Haiku once in a while. There’s this MFA creative-writing place just up the road from the gulag, it’s really charming. They publish a chapbook that 4 people on the island read. They also host workshops, like How to Find Your Authentic Voice and Pushing Language Beyond the Boundaries. Last night we saw some non-identity-politics-driven verse in the nearby wilderness reserve. It had beautiful plumage and made totally weird sounds. (Hey Dylan, you’re remembering to feed my muse, right? Don’t let her out after 5 since she might stay out all night. She does NOT like the free-verse abstract work. Feed her the structured message-oriented stuff to the right of the editorial literary-elite. Thanks ☺ ) Anyway, we’re trapped on this island so if you find someway to get us off, do your best.
PLEEZ tell the editorial prison-guards that we are working on our English Lit MA degrees.
P.S: send the Maya Angelou and Adrienne Rich books soon !!!!!
                                                       Love,
                                                     ­     Rita Dove’s Bookshelf
PROMPT:   draft a prose poem
in the form/style of a postcard
517 · Mar 2017
outcome-based drivel
ConnectHook Mar 2017
┈┏━╮╭━┈   ╭━-━-━-━╮
┈┃┏┗┛┓ ┃╭ⓞⓘⓝⓚ┃
┈╰┓▋▋┏╯╯╰━-━--━━╯

the data-driven non-culture
awakens us to the fact
that we are your enemy
to laugh and leap for joy
when the matrix implodes
under the sheer weight
of your soul-dead techno-hubris
which it must and will
sooner than you think.

Hell awaits you
and all your type
unless perhaps God
in His sovereign mercy
grant you repentance
unto life...

but that is up
to Him
so until then
take your data-driven global pipe-dream
and go to HELL.
sucky free verse
for a data-driven *******
full of global zombies.
Outcomes are irrelevant.
Anathema !
Maranatha.
516 · Apr 2018
Pyramid Schemes
ConnectHook Apr 2018
Wisely invested in mammon, secure,
I repose in my splendor, moronic—
bejeweled with scarabs, jackals, and cats.
My dividends total pharaonic.
Egypt was a scheme—
very long-endurance scheme. . .
but yes, still a scheme.
513 · Apr 2018
Poem Resurrected
ConnectHook Apr 2018
Rise from your grave. It's Easter Sunday
two-thousand eighteen years A.D.
Spread the word with hashtag/twit-feed;
make it cute.   No urgency . . .

Fluffy pinks, chick-yellow duckies
Nestléd eggs and pastel notes
just might charm those raging hordes
who long to slit some Christian throats.

Virtue-signal while you're shopping
Watch the game and charge your phone.
Allah's bunnies won't stop hopping
Till they make your land their own.

Sweeten up your springtime idols'
pastel poison. Drain the dregs:
Antichrist is here to offer
jellybeans and chocolate eggs;

Sweet untruths with trinkets given
lying in the plastic grass.
Easter morning, market-driven—
Christ is risen . . .   kiss my ***.
http://shroud.com/index.htm
509 · Apr 2016
Another Fool For April
ConnectHook Apr 2016
It’s National Poetry Writing Month!
Align your chakras, hold your breath.
Let poetry flood your living spirit;
free your mind from lyrical death !

Let go the appallingly unpoetic:
meditate.  Assume the position.
Adore your muse in rhythmic wonder;
write in automatic transmission.

Chant the mantra: NaPoWriMo
Let it hum like raw electricity.
Find your center… focus inward
¡ And thus behold sublime diversity !
OMMMmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.............. . . . .. .. .... .
I am posting my NaPoWriMo2016  poems here at HP
after I post at
www.connecthook.wordpress.com
509 · Nov 2016
TRiUMPhant Limerick
ConnectHook Nov 2016
Your Facebook page, laced with profanity
shows a mind on the verge of insanity.
You got ******* -- while we toast
what you suffer the most:
unforeseen presidential calamity.
Please don't have tantrums on Facebook.
You are all big boys and girls.
Just relax and get with the fascist misogynist program.
And don't let my stirring poetry prevent you from buying yourself a one-way ticket to Canada. Or Mexico. Or anywhere...
☺☻☺
508 · Mar 2016
Another Experiment
ConnectHook Mar 2016
Tap out Easter inanities
space it like a bunny-hop
throw in a pastel glottal stop.
Keep it short; digestible
and let it roll: comestible.
See then if they like the dish,
and grant them every starry wish.
Jesus is indeed LORD.
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