ruminating
                  cogitating
                                  pondering
                    ­                              thinking

the subject matter doth
put the mind into a thought seat
is there sufficient verbs for me
to place on the paper's sheet

verbs by definition are words
which have an action
they on the reader
do have an impaction

so let's explore a topic
worth a thousand of them
how I'll express this piece
shall test my mind's stem

here is the matter I shall discuss
without any duress or manner of fuss

all over the globe there is much trouble
our planet is not as a carefree bubble
the inhabitants often observe strife somewhere
our corners of four not of an according air

were there to be peace and calmed relations
no concerns would beset our world's many nations
yet a propensity for war doth  ever prevail
what sane men shall see the wrongs of this pail

verbs shall never explain man's idiocy
as he's ever involving himself in armory
yet a man who did advocate cordiality
lived with his brothers in true harmony

he was a meek man of the Indian land
a message of non-violence he did band
the lessons of history are never heard
man seemingly ever in the warring herd

the middle east is a tinder box of hell this day
exploding bombs and munitions all spray in affray
verbs of dialogue aren't put to good use
an ongoing lighting of the fuse doth suffuse

few statesmen of Gandhi's ilk now exist
so the torture and torment of war shall e'er persist
diplomacy has lost its edge around the globe
our planet shall remain bound in worrisome lobe

the count of verbs in this piece didn't quite reach a thousand
yet deaths in conflicts outdo that number by the thousands

Out on the marsh on a lonely night
The wind soughs through his rags,
The hat that’s pinned to his painted face,
Flutters and soars, then sags,
His eyes are wide and his mouth is grim
As an owl is put to flight,
And nothing but shadows will venture there
For the Scarecrow rules the night.

And back in the manse in a window seat
The Parson’s daughter sits,
She stares at the fluttering coat-tails, but
In truth, is scared to bits,
She watches the sails of the windmill turn
And creak and groan in the gloom,
As clouds come stuttering over the marsh
In the rays of a Harvest Moon.

The father is out in the donkey cart
To tend to his aging flock,
He’s left Elizabeth waiting there
By the tick of the hallway clock,
But out on the moors and beyond the marsh
There rides one Highway Jack,
A frock coat topped with a bunch of lace
And a gold trimmed tricorne hat.

He’s whipped the horse to a lather
In a retreat from a new affray,
For the magistrates have gathered
Vowing to ride him down that day,
The redcoats wait in the village Inn
For the sound that they know too well,
When the curate sees the approaching horse
He’s to toll the old church bell.

But the curate lies in a drunken fit
On the floor of the old church nave,
And soon, by matins his soul will flit
From life to an early grave,
Elizabeth sits in the window seat
And thinks of the coin and plate,
As the highwayman dismounts, and ties
His horse to the manse’s gate.

He beats on the door, ‘Please let me in,
I’m weary and faint, that’s all.
I wouldn’t abuse your person, but
I fear my back’s to the wall.’
She leaves the seat and she slides the bar
For bracing the oaken door,
‘I dare not, sir, I fear for my life,
You’re safer out on the moor!’

Their voices echo across the marsh
Like fear, distilled in the night,
And something shudders out in the gloom
And lurches to left and right,
It seems forever, but now a sound
Tolls out, like a final knell,
For something, out in the church tonight,
Is tolling the steeple bell.

He barely makes it back to his horse
When the redcoats stand in line,
Their muskets fire a volley of shot
And his coat turns red, like wine.
They go to the church when the deed is done
To say, ‘You have done well!’
But the curate lies on the cold stone floor,
The Scarecrow tolled the bell!

David Lewis Paget

The Clinchfield line flows from the mines -  and through the mountains of East Tennessee.
Wher menageries go to provide such a show - the likes of those we'd never  see.

The first glimpse of these beasts that came from the east - and such places where we'll never live.
They rolled in on the back and were pulled up the track - by the huge steel Loco-motive.

With this rolling stock that would bring such a shock - to the bustling boom town of Erwin.
All sorts of creatures where brought here to feature - where paying guests could get set to determine.

A lumbering cow was this company's wow - this Circus did owe its success.
But this pachyderm act would in time distract - and end up in a most awful mess.

Mary we can claim was this elephants name - and the boast is “the biggest in size.”  
For she sure was a hulk and endowed with such bulk - that I wouldn't be very surprised.

Too earn a few bob, Eldridge, new to the job – now the handler of this pachyderm.
This man was a fool and it seems, very cruel - as it said, he was overly firm.

He was void of the skill but enthused by the thrill - with a very go-for-broke view.
This creature he'd ***** with a great big stick – giving Mary a bad how-to-do.

He had picked the wrong day to cause this affray – as he jabbed with the long piece of wood.
Whilst he was being so rough he hit an absessed tooth – and believe me this figured no good.

With one painful bellow her trunk hit this fellow – throwing Red Eldridge around.
And such was her tread when she trod on his head – she crushed it right into the ground.

Bullets rang out and there was no doubt – they hadn't had any effect.
As before the crowd she still trumpeted loud – while the masses, revenge did select.

**** the elephant, **** the elephant – was the song that the crowds chose to sing.
Each and every man came up with the plan – they wanted poor Mary to swing.

The lynching was set and a huge crane was met – for Mary was five tons in weight.
Out in front of the crowds with them screaming out loud – her future was not looking great.

They secured her leg by a chain to a peg – whilst around her neck they placed a chain.
And whilst reeling it in it dug into the skin – as they lifted her up with the crane.

Back on the ground they heard such a sound – as Mary's big bones they did crack.
Then somebody said the chains still on her leg – and the elephant to earth did come back.

The effect of this trip broke the pachyderms hip – causing her incredible pain.
And with such neglect they then did reconnect – and they lifted the creature once again.

The crowds they did roar as Mary did soar – a day out it has to be said.
With laughter and glee for the whole family – this monster now hanging quite dead.

The elephant gone but the party went on – as this beauty did hang for this shower.
The boom town of Erwin all acted like vermin – and left her for almost an hour.

Buried in the ground she can not now be found – as many here try to forget.
To look in this face we see only disgrace – and forever this stone will be set.

It was the day of the wedding of Mr and Mrs Epithalamium they looked quite the Heroic Couplet and full of Romanticism until the Englyn  Prose-d the Questionku ‘ Do you take this woman’ …  then in a wavering Iambic Pentameter voice the groom whispered ‘I do not know’ ….Mrs Epithalamium felt quite Dizain and tried to scratch out his Ruba’I, the  Clerihew stepped forward to comfort her but tripped over some Concrete and felt like a right Cowboy. The brides father, the Russian Chastushka, grabbed the groom and with a  Carpe Diem attitude threatened to Choka him.

            The guests all gathered in an Enclosed Rhyme with the best man making quite a Dramatic Monologue, the brides mother had her  Hybronnet knocked off her head and the chief bridesmaid had her Kimo torn in the affray. The young flower girls Haibun and Hamd both burst into tears as their Crown of Sonnets were totally destroyed.

            The Rev. Pantoum pleaded for calm, then repeating his plea for the melee to stop started making a List of the damage, quick as a Ghazal and with great Imagism he protected the Crystalline glass from smashing into Ninette pieces. Meanwhile the poor bride was in a state of Nonet anxiously trying to get past the twins Munaajaat and Musaddas, her Idyll life had been turned upside down, today was the day she had hoped to change her Name to Triolet.

              Alliteration watched while women wept, then stepped forward and with a Lyric in his voice asked people to calm down, he told everyone he had Naat come here to watch a display such as this and suggested they went for a hot Canzone to discuss the next move, Tanka and Tyburn readily agreed as they were very hungry and particularly as it was Free Verse it meant they could eat as much as they wanted. The nearly bride couldn’t give a Sijo if she never saw her ex again she was sick of being Kyrielle to and did not want anyone else’s Epyllion and with a final Than-Bauk stormed out of the club…


© 6/4/2013

T-The gift of life is oft stolen away
H-Horrid weaponry does the affray
E-Endlessly casualties will parlay

G-Gleaming soldiers eyes gone for rest
I-In unforgiving battles so harsh of test
F-Fighting at a land's utmost behest
T-Terrible the deadly toll is to attest

O-Over and over munitions have terminated
F-Flagrantly thieving any quietude generated

L-Loved sons of kinfolk seen to weep
I-Infinite this sadness ever so deep
F-From a beautiful benefit the cost steep
E-Extinguished by war's insane keep

These times strike monied worldlings with dismay:
Even rich men, brave by nature, taint the air
With words of apprehension and despair:
While tens of thousands, thinking on the affray,
Men unto whom sufficient for the day
And minds not stinted or untilled are given,
Sound, healthy, children of the God of heaven,
Are cheerful as the rising sun in May.
What do we gather hence but firmer faith
That every gift of noble origin
Is breathed upon by Hope’s perpetual breath;
That virtue and the faculties within
Are vital,—and that riches are akin
To fear, to change, to cowardice, and death?

What kind of fool am I?
To let it creep in again
This imaginary high
From this drug that’s all pretend
I had a kiss and now I’m addicted
Is it my brain or my heart?
That has been afflicted
How does this start?
This spiritual or emotional affray
That leads me astray
Longing for you
Needing you
I told myself the last time
Would be the last time
But here I go again
A slave to pretend
Something I can’t see or touch
But long for so much

What kind of fool am I?
For something fake I’ll give it my all
But here I go again
Ready to put everything on the line and fall
If it means love will prevail in the end

The SatNav said, ‘Turn left ahead,
There’s going to be a crash,
A dozen cars are headed in
For one almighty smash!’
I slammed my foot down on the brake
And pulled off to the verge,
As other drivers honked and cursed
And flew past, in a surge.

I think my mouth fell open as
I stared down at the screen,
An LED was pulsing red
Ahead, at Winson Green,
‘Would you repeat the last command,’
I muttered, still in shock,
‘Sit here and wait, avoid your fate,
Five minutes on the clock!’

The papers said the lights had failed
When they came out next day,
A dozen cars had met head on,
Three died in that affray,
I didn’t dare say anything
In case they thought me mad,
An Oracle SatNav indeed,
I shook my head - How sad!

I lay awake in bed at dawn
I hadn’t been to sleep,
The automatic toaster by
The bed began to speak,
‘Get up, get up,’ and popped the toast,
Its usual discourse,
But then, ‘you’d better get downstairs
And check the neighbour’s horse.’

The horse was in the living room
Had come in from outside,
Had gifted us a steaming pile
Right there, on Maggie’s pride.
‘That rug will never be the same,’
I shouted at the horse:
‘I saw the door was open, so
I just came in, of course!’

A talking horse? It couldn’t be,
I went to see the quack,
‘I keep on hearing funny things,’
I said, he turned his back.
‘I think my ears are playing up,’
I motioned with my thumb,
He shook his head, I’d quite forgot
The Doc was deaf and dumb.

My life is quite impossible
I must admit defeat,
As phones and televisions all
Abuse me in the street,
But I never seem to hear the wife
Who tends to scream and shout,
So it seems there’s still an upside
When you’re going mad - No doubt!

David Lewis Paget

Madison mounted her coal black mare
In the yard of the Smugglers Inn,
Her coat was black and her hair was fair
And her jodhpurs tucked well in,
The sky was in a threatening mood
With its thunderheads from hell,
As lightning forked on the ancient rood
And the rain teemed down as well.

‘You need to get to the Laird,’ I cried,
‘Tell him to haste to me,
Another day and she may have died,
I’m trying to set her free.
But the Pikemen stand outside her door
And they say they guard her skin,
There were locks and chains on her door before
Up there, in the Smugglers Inn.’

‘Tell him to bring his gallant troop
To dismay the Duke of Bray,
He means to imprison his daughter
In his tower, the Lady Grey,’
The Pikemen said that I’d lose my head
If I tried to breach her door,
And wouldn’t answer whenever I asked,
‘What is she locked in for?’

So Madison wheeled the mare around
And she put it to the spur,
If any could ride a horse to ground
I knew that it was her,
She headed off to the Castle Croft
Head bent to the driving rain,
With lightning flashing around her mount
I watched her across the plain.

What seemed to take forever, I thought,
Was merely an hour or two,
But then my fears were set at naught
As the troop came jangling through.
Each man had raised his sabre and
He’d kept his powder dry,
My heart was surging within me as
The troop came riding by.

And then, at last, was Madison
Still riding with the Laird,
Determined then to save her friend,
To show her that she cared.
The Pikemen soon were beaten down
Were lost in the affray,
I never did catch a glimpse of him,
Their lord, the Duke of Bray.

It took a moment to smash the locks
On the door of Lady Grey,
And all the troop had cheered out loud
As the chains, they fell away.
Madison was the first in line
To embrace the one within,
But we were not to know what lay
Up there, in the Smugglers Inn.

The Lady, held in a firm embrace
Had staggered out through the door,
But blood and pustules were on her face
Like we’d never seen before.
A dying Pikemen called, ‘You fools,
You’ve unleashed a bitter ague,
And then he sighed just before he died,
‘Behold, you have the plague!’

David Lewis Paget

it’s hard to carry dead weight, but
i’ve been doing it for years
this ebbing relic, growing heavy
too cumbersome, your souvenir

still, always the optimist, i
feign blindness, not to see
you glancing back, over your shoulder
instead of looking here, at me

gentle tugging gone, these
heartstrings tattered, all affray
you keep Her, white-knuckled
in your grip, oblivious to such decay

yeah, i know, i know…
i know that i
“don’t know”

oh, but you, you don’t know
either, how I close my eyes
and see Her

sure, She’s gone —
but She’s not going

anywhere.

Living through the night.
Sometimes
the sweetest dreams
keep me awake.
Faded.
Whispers in moonlight.

Subconscious streaming,
wishing
to be made whole.
Tales of heartbreak
shatter-
happiness screaming.

Light, fantasy stroll
hijacked,
taken by duress.
Dragged through the swamp land,
washed up
on the dreamscape knoll.

Eyes bloodshot in stress
blinking,
staring at today,
all the lovely words
together
like a rose bush dress.

Petals floating affray,
stumble
and slice at the heel.
Trailing uncertain
passage.
A tragic ballet.

Dancing feet reveal
her strength,
and the future glares.
But I know she's strong,
mighty,
like well crafted steel.

Though it isn't fair:
Living.
She reaches her hand,
touches my fingers
softly.
I wake with a scare.

My soul, she commands.
Relief
floods over terror.
Crying out, I choke,
"Don't go.
Stay in our dreamland."

He breathes an anguish vow
and the darkness blinding close
He bids farewell to the affray
as the grief never fades away
His sorrow tears keep linger on
until the last drop of heaven

In the mourning he stays awake
to keep himself close
to the stoic souls
and admonish them from macabre

His heart erodes with fear
but he will madly adorn it
with faith and strength

when the torn sky heals
I see no grave, feeling grateful
but he buries himself
in the arms of his ancestors

s.n

Corpses And Fools

I watch her move
Like an eel,
Slithering, smooth,
Wet to the feel,
Thrashing shallow pools
Midst the deathly cries
Of corpses and fools
That splash my eyes.

She watches me on her shore
Like a crane,
Peering, strutting, sure
Of her pain,
Long, slender neck as sublime
As a sharpened spike,
Rising and falling in time
Waiting to strike.

Our eyes meet in the night
Like fireflies,
Flitting, bright,
Two lover's in disguise,
A struggle, a frenzied ******,
She oozes in the affray
In a flourish of lust
Then slithers silently away.

© RJVHorton2014

Come run a while see where her steps will lead
On her journey into the great unknown
Running breathless onward at breakneck speed
Into life's affray no time to postpone
No doubt in her mind, soon she will succeed
Away we go, just grab the telephone