ODE TO  RIOTERS
The clouds rumble , O! sons of Malice ,hear
The smoke of arson and roar of lies
In the name of God in heaven; to the tune of lords near
Ignorant men  , followers of Dionysus fly like flies.
Think ! read ,what the history of man tells
Of fire that Prometheus brought for our happiness
But, ingratitude of satanic forces by  spells
Inflame the fire of Ire and burn the huts; brings unhappiness.
Tempters like Hera of Zeus pleasantly smile
Resting in Bars or legislatures , counting votes on computer screen
Echo of slogans on Equality, Fraternity, Liberty from a mile
Makes in social conscience  a  scathing scene.
The land of Buddha. Abraham Lincoln, prophets of peace all
Sent by God to every race and all clans dull,
Told the people all over to be kind
Loving ,lovable and of service mind.
(2).
O! political crookedness, in struggle for power  you tempt
People to compete and hate and conquer
By communal spirit forgetting  Divine Spirit and contempt
Religious heads and political aspirants together
Like criminals think and twist the holy ideas, even
They hold holy books in left hand and in right hand gun
And advice disciples to die and **** for heroic heaven
For them, as if death is an easy going fun;
The First Estate of France still as  impulses here in world
Reign the countries as rulers  of Democracy mocking
And they jointly exploit subjects ; and devotees of the spiritual world,
Misguide men and women  by prayers rocking
Hope of Heaven and horror of Hell
Make the people, forget all , and yell
When the villainous leaders signal by baton
The desperados become boys wanton.
(3)
O! devilish War-Lords, do you read Vedic Books?
What they mean ? for you mean? as they tell of God ,the sole Creator
The Creator of you and the “Other”  in your hooks.
The Preserver and Destroyer , may not be for you Pharaohs greater,
O! Pharaohs , you don’t  cause rain, make the Sun rise
And the greenery, birds and fish flourish .
When the Earth rumbles and tsunami rages you give the price
The rewards of hatred you sowed nourish-
All around ,as chemical war terrorism-a horrible nightmare
But, Epicureans! All are from Him and unto Him all shall return.
Marketing competitions and sale of arms cause the Wars
As history reminds us :none gained but failed to sustain peace;
Still, the blunder of division of people and exploitation stars
Rise , at the West with the dying Sun’s horses and Mars.
Politics and Economics -two horses of Civilization unbridled
Terribly gallop with men on them girdled.
(4)
O! cruel  egoistic  businessmen ,you globalize immorality
By greed, you trade with  fanatics and  terrorists,
Spur clashes: Multiculturism versus monoculturism  denying plurality
Challenging Eternity; certainty of scientists.
At Saranath,Lord  Buddha told  disciples on the Middle Path of  life
To Torah “The Lord our God , the Lord is One”, so Jesus taught us all
And guided to worship  God in” Spirit and truth “ in our life
No other Lord but Allah deserves worship of us all-
Allah is the Light of the Earth, and of the Sky ,O! Lord
God is the Eternal  Light  to illuminate all  ;to be worshiped
Bhagavat Gita says,"The body is the temple of God
In the Spiritual realm : all are from the One ,the  worshipped.
God is the only One without birth and death
The Unique unlike the creatures on earth
The Force is called “atma” by Vedas no trade and
Sciences  tell: it is Eternal  , cannot be made by human hand. .
(5)
O! the ill -taught  simpletons , think !why shall we spoil life
in feuds communal or political  for the luxury of masters
Suicide never a sacrifice; if at all ,it is beheading of human in life
At the altar of regal, egotist power-mongers.
The Only God is the  Seed of all; names may differ by language difference
Holy books use all noble qualities to the name the Supreme Lord
Then, why the sons of that One Lord, in repentance
Think on action : virtue  or evil and pray: forgive ,O! Lord
In democracy, we are free to believe  the God or not
Still, we can be human by refraining from paining others
Freeing ourselves from communal hatred, the vicious knot
As the political fences   encircle us that make us enemies of others.
Stars in the sky and the Sun and the Moon
Are mortal ones from God for our boon.
Let us be men and women loving all , serving all;
Not severing heads; but lead a life ,culturally tall.
                                             ***********
Note:atma=soul.

It's unfortunate that Parisians
Are very hard to bear,
In terms of flash obsequiousity,
They drive me to despair!
And patience is an attribute
I don't profess to have
To mercifully administer
When accents veer to Slav.

Baltics look like jellyfish,
The Germans are obscene
And loud and overbearing
But the Swiss are very clean.
Italians are a swarthy lot
Who gourmandize on food
And sacrifice their suavity
By being impudently crude.
The Spanish are no better,
In fact they are probably worse,
For obsessing in the blood sports
I actually rate them in reverse.

Starchiness is British
They're convoluted to the core,
The Old Boy system's lost it's sheen
Aspirants flock to it no more.
The Yanks are looking slightly crass
Whilst fighting foreign wars,
Their pinky held up squeaky clean
To call "foul" to China's flaws.
China sits inscrutably
Holding all the cards
Waiting for the moment
To strike beneath the guards.

India and Pakistan
Are squabbling like kids
The uproar over Kashmir
Rates them lower than the Yids.
The Yids are walking tightropes
With Iran's nuclear ******,
Whilst currying Yank approval,
Eventual bombing is a must.
The Dutch behave so anally
They're always proven right
When faced with rigid negatives
They blanch with haunches tight.

But not the Argentineans
They love to dance and flirt,
To chase the senorita
Cavorting in the scarlet skirt.
The South Pacific's wallowing
They're adrift from World affairs
Oz's self preoccupation
Mirrors Kiwi's vacant stares.
Africa's way past comment
Lost to heat and dust,
Warfare, **** and pillage
And the rest decayed by rust.

Eskimos are OK
Clean living on the ice
The population static,
Zer-O pollution's nice!

Marshalg
@theGate
Mangere Bridge
14 April 2009

Two Hearts Beat as One

Undeniably magnificent

Open-heart despair

Tougher rhythm dominating bonded purpose

I Fall Down

Can't wait to get to Berlin

Short-sided bravado

Notably lacking comparison

The edge of nihilism

It's New Year's Day,

And Sunday ****** Sunday

Matured maverick solider

Exact achievements contrary to empathetic aspirants

Reunion in October

Temporarily divided by faith

Undeniable spiritual optimism

Victory, complete ardor

Promising and passionate

Rejoice in optimistic reunion

Two hearts beat out of control

The cordons of existence are constricting
For the keepers of the dream have let us down,
Who will buy tomorrow if performances are hollow
Causing all the global spectators to frown?

American has been the silk pyjamas
Since ’45 they’ve lead the world’s display
In health and wealth and brandishing the muscle
But in recent times it seems they’ve seen their day.

For since Clinton’s time the National debt has spiralled
They’ve departed brushfire wars in disarray,
Default now looms obscene with disharmony supreme
With Congressional leaders ranting in the fray.

The fiasco of a Government held to ransom
By a faction of extremist’s from the right,
Whilst the greenback in decline won’t change water into wine
The dire threat of fiscal chaos causes fright.

So global confidence is fading in the dollar
And the watchers shake their heads in blank despair,
For the willingness to follow is now a bitter pill to swallow
When the USA’s rock steadiness aint’ there.

So, what’s around the corner for tomorrow?
What aspirants are waiting in the wings?
With a fading USA perhaps it’s China’s turn to play
Though that’s going to mean adjustments made to things.

Of course we’re venturing into territory’s unchartered
And the crystal ball consulted, isn’t clear
But one thing I can assure, if this is what we must endure,
Is that our tomorrows will be something, now, to fear.*

Marshalg
Auckland N.Z.
19 October 2013

That Mexican hunger of memory,
That 7- 10 evening shift,
Campesinos de Chihuahua,
Sinaloans de Durango,
Day laborers:
Organized Labor’s stubborn cohort,
Largely ungovernable,
With Union Label conspicuous in absence.
Labor Unions:
Largely dead in America,
Except for SIEU, of course,
Making astonishing strides in unskilled circles.
SIEU: The Future of the American Labor Movement,
Eugene Debs rolling over in his grave again.
But I digress.
Mexican gardeners:
Doing most of southern California’s
Weekly landscaping these days.
Tree-trimming in evening twilight,
Certainly an extracurricular
Earning activity these days.
“Hustlers Only” need apply.
Adding five or ten or twenty,
Cash on Tio Sammy's barrelhead,
Mexican tree trimmers, already exhausted from
A workday that began at 6 AM.
And isn't it a pity?
A moment’s lack of concentration,
Distracted, perhaps, by *****-spirit former selves,
Sipping that last shot of afternoon tequila.
Cue Jay & the Americans:
“In a little café on the other side of the border.
She was giving me looks that made my mouth water.”
Distracted, a chainsaw arcs carnelian.
ReCue Jay et al: The chainsaw
“That belonged to JOSE!
Yes I knew. Yes I knew. Yes I knew.”
Severing his right shoulder deltoid,
A butchering to say the least,
Requiring, at least, three weeks “en casa.”
Tres semanas
Without Labor,
Consequently,
Without Capital,
No wage-slave salt lick.
“No dinero” for bread and butter.
Bread and butter?
A consummation devoutly wished for.
And dead certainly,
Better than Guns or Butter?
That Hobson’s choice.
No Padron LBJ are you,
Down along the Pedernales
Texas Hill Country, west of Austin.
Conjuring up both Guns and Butter?
You can’t have both.
Which is why we laboring folk
Always opt for the former,
Knowing instinctively that
A full-flush, spurting military-industrial complex
Means full employment and good times,
Except, of course, for the soldier boys.

“Y los sueños.”
Bourgeoisie entrechats.
I hear America still singing, faintly now.
A shrinking middle-class siren song--
Just a little something--
Some small baited hook--
Some chum bucket for Les Miserables;
Swarthy aspirants.
“Y los sueños.”
Our hunger of memory,
That once booming American 20th Century;
Horatio Alger:
Alive & kicking in the new millennium.

On  watching  Indian Polity
Such was my country twenty-one Summers ago
In a starry night I ,with my wife Prema young
Walked along the road of midnight Mysore slow
As snow veil  clad chilling  breeze rippled along.
No ****** , drunkard, rowdy, as hyenas  did draw
No clique with camera   to strip or **** did throng
An auto -driver so friendly took us  to a lodge; so
Gladly with son Sudev  we enjoyed Dassara song .
          
Now, in every city , I fancy , Sahasralinga’s attacks
From Bars with bars such barbarians may pounce
As executive dread  such law-breakers to  punish.
Political aspirants  languid sit in and pronounce
In Parliament to protect  the culprits  from barracks
Deceiving  democrats  and putting them in anguish.
======================================
Note: Prema: name of wife; Sudev: name of baby(son). Sahasralinga: nickname of Indra /Devendra.(King of Devas who live in luxury. Parliament: the legislative building. Mysore: the city in  Karnataka,India former capital of Mysore kings. Dassara:a  state festival in Karnataka,
==========================================

I can see through your eyes

Dark pigment
Surrounded by a colorless horizon

Lids and lashes act as curtains

But as you become surprised they rise
...
Your eyes are wide

The reflection I get makes me think that I'm in the picture
But reality tell me that everyone else sees themselves within you

I can see through your eyes , but I can't tell who you're looking forward to

Contenders
Applicants
Aspirants

Do we all make your eyes sparkle or is that just the only thing that divorces me from the other prospects?

The other prospects keep looking just as I do, so I know that it is something that they want

...Your eyes

Your eyes become my shining gold when your cheeks elevate and suppress , leaving wrinkles right next

Your upside down rainbow, I mean ... your smile

So kaleidoscopic and polychromatic

Dynamic and emphatic

What creature wouldn't be attracted?
...
Umm
Whatever natural specimen with a good sight that can see through your eyes.

Someone with similar vision, but nonidentical decisions to I

I know your smile is moody
Your heart is choosy
And your eyes are gluey

And yet I dissociate myself from your gallery

Believing some day that you'll just shut your eyes and become blind to all the other guys

How do I disregard the signs that I'm instructed while seeing through your eyes

The signs that show me how you flourish off of all the concentration that you get

I'm posing inside of a picture that I know is framed by faces that do not have placement

Your art steadily draws attention
so as soon as you get glimpses
You start your bidding

Your craft is so worthy but so inexpensive

As if you put your body up for sale and mark down the price, only to stay top seller to the cheap consumers

How do you allow to have a allowance upon yourself; moreover, place yourself on clearance

The real question is why do I window shop knowing that the quality of the product is so unreliable

I don't think I really wanna see, what I really see when looking through your eyes

Wishing you weren't so prideful about your high demand of men

If yu weren't so disdainful maybe you'll blink more often and try to
Shun from keeping eye contact with me

Instead you proudly advertise yourself as the best deal yet

I hate that I can see through your eyes

Because I hate to witness a beautiful woman with such a bargaining mind

It’s taken you’re fed up
With politicized debate
And the fools who do brinkmanship’s
Scared world of hate.
And the ghouls who eat babies
As pawns in their game
In their scrawny white *****’s
Sad quest for fame.

Where the sick sabre rattlers
Cavort with their ploys
Of destroying old satellites
To show off their toys.
To drape flags of challenge
With threat weave inbound
Across mantles of aspirants
Desirous to be crowned.

Intimidating tactics
From they with the gun
Against all the challengers
Emerging at run.
From China to terrorist
The gauntlet’s thrown,
You cross our line
There's no mercy shown.

And we little guys sit
In our quiet, timid way,
Whilst the gigantic ego's
Jostling holds sway.
Whilst the arrogant right
Profess to have God,
And the rest of us cower
In fear, like a dog.

And the sun comes up
With a glorious show
And the nuclear dust
In the air is aglow,
And the rich and the famous
Are dead in their beds
And the ***** and the cockroaches
Nibble their heads.

It’s all such a waste
In a terrible way
When the General’s pushed buttons
And had such a day....


Marshalg
Victoria Park Tunnel
10 February 2011

Jewish activists lay dining,
publicans with plebes aligned;
upon the Roman chaise reclining:
Israelites well-bred (and wined).

Jesus never did wax wroth
while brokering deals for global fail.
No martyr’s noble tablecloth
enfolded Christ, Omega male.

Messiah, Lord of marketing
was favorably credit-rated.
Power points to Christ as king;
One worthy to be worshiped/hated.

Beta beasts and Alpha tyrants
rich investments when installed
tabulate their dull aspirants
chewing cud and unappalled .

Many a sociopathic brute
has steered the bride (Christ’s clueless wife)
away from every attribute
pursuant to eternal life.

You ****** better not forget
when trees get watered at the root
and global profit rises yet
that Jesus wore a business suit.

Love Aspirants
My love blossoms like a blooming rose
Emotional sensitivity and intuition warrant
A hug an embrace to definitely buldoze
her beauty flows like a dangerous torrent
I know that you are emblem of beauty
My sweetheart I am staunch love aspirant
My love please take me serious be mine
Your innocence takes all my real compassion  
Let me sip you my love my life my wine
Please don't play with my innocent passion
Let me be with you to refine and define
What love needs to be perfect for salvation
Let me be your love associate be fine
My love do not debar me from association
Colonel Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright Nov 2020 Love Remains

High rise buildings don’t shed leaves.
And the trees are too far below to be seen.
‘Fall’ carries a different context in concrete
With gravity at play, its threatens to be mean....

There are pockets where nature is trimmed to size
And planted to add value to unreal estate
I should miss the mess, the sights and the eyes
And instead I watch my senses acclimate.

A pumpkin cinnamon latte, in Starbucks terms
Offers cultured aspirants a slice of respite
I am not ungrateful, but I can still reminisce
Not because of my earnestness but despite....

Memory of colours, orchestrates fall
A cacophony of wistfulness without a plot
I can’t even pretend it is autumn in my mind,
When the artifice around me is still so hot.

©️Arshia
6.10.18
#afutureisticpoem
#ifclimatechangecontinues

As all are against auspicious atrocities, agitating aspirants arbitrate astounding audience,
Blow by blow breaking brown bricks brings barbarous battle because blue birds break bad bottles,
Clicking clocks cover cocktail coffee converging corners calling cakewalk cobwebs commercially,
Dancing dolls drink diluted droplets drowning deep digging diversifying didactic doctorates,
Enriching eulogy edifies every evaluator easily energetically emitting extra efforts efficiently,
Fleeting floppies fully fascinated flop frolic fantasy for forgetting farewell fashion falsely,
Girls going gliding gymnastics goggling goals gripped glittering gestures gaining gracelessly,
High heels horrify hectic horses hurrying heedlessly hitting hot hotels harshly,
Intuitive ideology intensified in ink ideas illustratively immersed in illusive ice,
Jack judges jugglers juggling judiciously jumping jelly just jotting juicy jam,
Kaleidoscopic kettle kicking knight killing kite knocking Kentucky’s knot,
Lollipop ladies looking like lovely locusts lingering loose lips largely,
Mocking monkey munches marigold molecules marching marvelously,
Nightly naughty nymphs narrate nautical notes nine notches necking necklaces,
Obviously obscure obesity obtains oriental origami organizing Orlando’s oration,
Pinky pig punches paper *** pulling plaits powerfully putting pretty pens,
Queens queuing quickly quarterly quantum queer quagmire,
Ripples revolting rides revolving right rigorously raising rings round,
Silver stallion struggles striding straight showing somersaults shaking shells,
Tadpole tornadoes torture tinkering tumbler tickling tiny thistles,
Umbrella utopia ushers utility utensils unimaginably under usurping unity,
Vanishing vanity velocity vulnerably vindicates valuable vessel,
Warbling wobbles worry waves wantonly whitewashing walls wastefully,
Xylophone X-mas ‘xpresses’ xiphoid xebec xeroxing xylan xylite,
Youthful yearning yields yearlong yellow yachts yelping yolks,
Zealous zephyr zoologically zigzagging zinc zippering zillion.

Oh, Cedar, how many aspirants loved you and the immortal Gilgamesh knew how to write you a poem. I am from the distant cities, where the sun is without robe and no eyes, only a story of waiting and something of an ancient fragrant. I am an old traveler, I learned the trip by accident. I also tell you that I am a small sailor and inherited the sea song from my grandparents. The hard wave I will know its desire. I will know it, and I will keep a little silent, so I may remember something. Yes, I will wait as a cedar tree overflows with returnees.

Our Solid Stance
The enemies gun powder will finish but not chest of soldiers
We are the soldiers of God and carry only his verdict all along
We do not believe in weapons ,faith and passion are armors
We are strong and valiant because to God's country we belong
We are ever ready taking our heads on our palms to present
Our hearts are for our land we do know how to be real patriot
Whatever harsh circumstances could be we are always on front
We are hard and harsh in our duty we hoot care about climate
Our real passion is our duty and our real love is our country
We are staunch aspirants of our love we do love our heart
By the Grace of Allah we stand strong firm as well as free
We take our sacred flag as a guaranty to never ever depart
Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2017 Golden Glow

The unthinkable,
has happened.
I am still alive.

After the harvest
moon, there were―
many aspirants,

to reach the Mars,
when a lynx left the
pug marks on their chests.

First snow went
deep in asylum.
All gates were locked.

The earliest recollection with
lower gastrointestinal eruptions,
viz psychosomatic induced distress
occurred when yours truly
quite a young lad, which specialist
invited me to ingest barium sulfate,
whereby the pinkish chalk like solution
traced a path thru digestive tract
visible while I stood behind a screen.

Rear lee if ever attested subject
suffices as an apt poetic title
amidst bookish canon - while
this writer (similar to other aspirants
in their respective creative pursuits)
aware arbitrary perusers may deem vile

core body of voluntary selective readers
mentally affix probationary trial
before unequivocally gravitating
toward my genre or signature
swiftly tailored harried style,
which unique modality
of expression eventually

accruing some degree of popularity
affecting unseen frown or smile
nonetheless, accepting, enjoying,
and tolerating how I playfully rile
aware that anonymous reader's
patience can wear thin relegating mine

worded persona on par with a reptile
unknowingly breaking fragile bond,
hence she/he might not reconcile
without awareness a valuable kinship,
dismiss me as puerile,
thus forsaking tenuous link, one

that may never bare tangible fruition,
yet all along self scrutiny occurs to refine
thy cerebral thought provoking profile
also intimating months gone by bias
arises toward my
figurative handily prehensile

expansive vocabulary, could
(and/or does) rank as a pile
of unpleasant gluteus maximus
sphincter muscle missile
imposing effort to tone down exuberant,
flamboyant, and gallant mercantile

flashing blindingly exasperatingly,
and inflamingly nauseating vocabulary,
not deliberately juvenile
but this luxe lavish embellishment
a labor of (lost) love with English
Language (inherent since...

in utero), thus...infantile
asper taking shape without conscious
deliberation, though imbecile
appellation possibly affixed
as lasting impression,
perhaps even engendering hostile,

whereat no effort to exhort
unconditional acceptance of me guile
will transpire, cuz this chap
recognizes how tenuously fragile,
the online choice to remain a steadfast
virtual friendship quintessentially fissile

oft times casting the notion how facile
mine arrangement springs from one
core textured intellectual domicile
that houses persona of one docile
amphibious descendent, whose forebear,
yes twas a crocodile!

after reading the article
(published in the July + August 2024
issue of Mother Jones)
titled Raging bull - Donald Trump's
pugilistic spokesman has taken
campaigning to a whole new level of low.

Beyond the lookout
for Huyen "Steven" Cheung
(born June 23, 1982)
an American political advisor
Donald Trump's campaign spokesman
in the 2023–24 Republican primary
and served in the Donald J. Trump administration.

He previously worked in Trump's 2016
and 2020 campaigns.

Brilliant gifted package of brains and brawn,
his crude quips against opponents,
(which includes politicians of all stripes),
cut down and figuratively quartered
reduced courtesy raw bits of biting riposte
forced into thralldom, cuz Trump world
adversaries sacrificial fodder roasted alive
all stops pulled out except blood relatives,
where merciless cutthroat antagonism drawn
sycophants molded like putty in the hands
of Voodoo magic spellcaster henchman
disabling staunch radical transgressors

think how frozen blinded deer fawn,
videre licet buckle under headlights glare
immobilized lifeless body
courtesy invisible hawn
fricasséeing, mincing, skewering,
and frankly zapping unwitting victim
par for the coarse faux jambon,
or sprinkled as rich nutrient
upon manicured lawn
housing consecrated ashes
disintegrated lovely bones of Memnon
stands proud as genetic product of Nippon.

Upon first immediate glance
his seventy two plus inches
presents overshadowing, looming,
and hulking mound of flesh
capped with large oblong head,
his likeness surpasses,
supersedes, and summons
idealistic awesomeness of
(Jean Jacques Rousseau) noble savage
beastie boy incarnate,
nevertheless he only poses a menace
to any and all who cross his path.

His physical prowess proved time and again
evident as high school football player then
soon thereafter, he channeled latent might
as martial arts fan
and dabbled in taekwondo,
and Muay Thai boxing
answering the call to ring communications
linkedin to testosterone laden
UFC (Ultimate Fighting Championship).

I would not wish to be caught,
in a dark alley with him;
me, who (resembles an aging hippie
and long haired baby boomer)
with accidental affectations somewhat effete
laud a fellow generally antithetical
to my quiet and gentle mien;
no matter yours truly tauts his grandeur

on well poised amazingly graceful feet
exhibits art in motion,
and ability to throw a judicious punch
combined with said averred
robust pillar of strength
being politically savvy
and whip smart to boot
qualities I envy and admire.

Quite challenging,
yet not quite impossible mission
to wax poetic toward an individual
exemplifying the complete antithesis
of mine body, mind and spirit
and synonymous with flattering a bully
for the shear confident bravado
exhibited, which winning qualities
guarantee a success brand
within cutthroat political
webbed wide world effects expand
ever outwar affecting mien kampf

analogous to a monstrous tropical storm
acknowledged as more powerful
(than my measly, and wimpy strength)
that doth move inland,
which earth-shaking event headline
sells papers at the newsstand
years from now techniques
of his stellar machismo masterfully characterized
courtesy elephant gingerly
standing, grandstanding, and balancing on one foot
will serve as object lesson for aspirants
nasty brutish modus operandi
scrutinized, schooled and scanned.

Borg and Connors
Fire and Ice
Scandinavian kid
Mid Western  boy
Opposites in Personalities
Opponents in the Game
Playing hands a mirror image
Similar in goal
Immortality in Glory
Each standing in anothers path.
Inherited a Club Sport
One hundred years old
Turned tides in a decade
To bequeath an International One
Compounding of fans
Beats the Market index
If were a stock
Buffett would have Invested
Soros Traded Long
Return on Investment
Calculator would show an Error
It would require a Computer
Stadiums to Capacity
Individual sport
Never seen before
Television rating
Team sports behind
Brands Endorsed
Sales Skyrocketed
Whoever called it a Sport
Every Stadium became a Colosseum
Dont have to go to Rome
Fight till death
Punishing the ball
Revving the Spectators
Players they weren't
Armed with racquets
Complex to the Gladiators.
Clay Grass Turf Cement
Surfaces changed
Battles continued
Tenacity Endurance hit peak
Week after Week
Sun Tzu proved wrong
Winner not won before battle
Fortunes Changing by the point
Art of War put to shame
Fila and Donnay hand in hand
Double ****** Backhand
Long hair with headband
Sporting a Stubble
Magic wrist
Nerves Iced
Looked like Christ
Clay or Grass
Every fortnight in May & June
Five years in a row
Trophies in Stockholm
A feat to reckon
US Open a jinx
Trophy not in the mix
Even Achilles had his heel
Borg his at the Big Apple
66 titles and 11 slams
All at 26
Nothing more to conquer
Cried Alexander
Dropped the Sport
Void felt forever
Opponents missed him
Raised their game
Without him field was tame
Even losing to him gave players Worldwide fame.
Raised by women
To Conquer men
Jimbo trained by Gloria
Player of repute
Backyards turned into courts
Clocks stopped
No ration on duration
Handed over to the great Pancho
Mentored Him Sport and Growth
Jimbo blind to creation
Trophy only in vision
Arrows cannot miss
Clay Turf or Grass
US open belonged to Connors
3 Slams in seventy four
No 1 5 years in a  row
Wilson Steel T 2000 and Slazenger in tow
Cover of Time
A matter of time
Roland Garros dream stopped
Not Tennis but Politics played it's part
Knees  weaken
Spirits shaken
Confidence beaten
Status of Opponent
After a match against the Champion
Played 5 generations of legends and aspirants
Well into his 40s
Beating them all
Young and old
Three decades
One end was the same
Other side changed
Never out of top 10
Entire career
Weekly ranking released
Jimbos inclusion automatic
Collected 109 titles
A record standing still
Darling of the Crowds
Loved by all worldwide
Ended his career in Vegas by Winning battle of the Sexes.
Greatest player of the Century
Both shared second
First among equals
Equals among Legends
The Above a true story
There cannot be a sequel
BC happened in AD

today – late morning of November 4th 2022
sudden onset experienced whereby
whooshing waste naturally flushed out
ala mine body electric performed colonoscopy
diarrheal gangbuster instigated
maybe Machiavellian microbe
with powerful ****** surge
analogous to invisible plunger
forcing out every last tidbit
constituting raw bits of
partially digested food
propelled with pronounced might
found yours truly pooped out.

Mine earliest recollection with
lower gastrointestinal eruptions,
viz (diagnosis courtesy medical technicians
informed this then youngster
stomach ache symptoms
disappointingly jump/kick started,
concluded, and associated
with psychosomatic induced distress)
occurred when sexagenarian - me
quite a young lad, which specialist
invited me to ingest barium sulfate,
linked with class of medications
called radiopaque contrast media.

The suspension (liquid)
worked by coating esophagus,
stomach, or intestine
with material not absorbed
into body so diseased
or damaged areas
could be clearly seen
by examination or CT scan.

Once I grudgingly swallowed
the pinkish chalk like solution
a path traced thru digestive tract
visible while I stood behind a screen
subsequently no life or death crisis evinced.

Rear lee if ever attested subject
suffices as an apt poetic title
amidst bookish canon - while
this writer (similar to other aspirants
in their respective creative pursuits)
aware arbitrary perusers may deem vile.

Core body of voluntary selective readers
mentally affix probationary trial
before unequivocally gravitating
toward (or being repulsed away from)
my unique genre or signature
swiftly tailored harried style,
which modus operandi modality
of expression eventually

accruing some degree of popularity
affecting unseen frown or smile
nevertheless, accepting, enjoying,
and tolerating how I playfully rile
aware that anonymous reader's
patience can wear thin relegating mine

worded persona on par with a reptile
unknowingly breaking fragile bond,
hence she/he might not reconcile
without awareness rejecting valuable kinship,
immediately dismiss me as asinine or puerile,
thus forsaking tenuous link, one

that may never bare tangible fruition,
yet all along self scrutiny occurs to refine
thy cerebral thought provoking profile
also intimating months gone by bias
arises toward gobbledygook
figurative handily prehensile

expansive vocabulary, verbosity could
(and/or does) rank as a pile
of unpleasant gluteus maximus
sphincter muscle missile excreta
imposing effort to tone down exuberant,
flamboyant, and gallant
gibberish bookish mercantile

flashing blindingly exasperatingly,
and inflamingly nauseating vocabulary,
not deliberately juvenile,
but this luxe lavish embellishment
a labor of (lost) love with English
Language (inherent since...

in utero), thus...infantile
asper taking shape without conscious
deliberation, though imbecile
appellation possibly affixed
as lasting impression,
perhaps even engendering hostile,

opinion, whereat no effort to exhort
unconditional acceptance of me guile
will transpire, cuz this chap
recognizes how tenuously fragile,
the online choice to remain a steadfast
virtual friendship quintessentially fissile

oft times casting the notion how facile
mine arrangement springs from one
core textured intellectual domicile
that houses persona of one docile
amphibious descendent, whose forebear,
yes twas a Democratic crocodile!

May the better win
Heard in Mythology
Told in a different Context
Good vs Evil

Talent and Skill
Strength and Will when
Identified with Ignoble
Faced defeat
At Battle

Competition by definition
Existence of an Opponent
Worth measured
Only Tool used
Win and Victorious
Loose and Defeated

Folly of Participants
Performance in Tournaments
Victory won in Practice
Lack of it the Opposite
Championship only Confirms First Place
In the Race

Winner and Loser
Not Against each other
One half of another
Complementary Nature
Compete to make it Whole

Hard Work and Discipline
Rhetoric for Inspiration
Chance to Participate
In the dance
Only one will Suffice
Complete Sacrifice

Crossing the finish line
First not a must
Nature is aware
Trouble you endure
Commitment for a day lacking
Opponent sends packing

Passion for the Game
Not just in Name
Submission to the Coach
Most neccessary Approach
Respect for the Rival
No means Trivial
Reverence for equipment
First sign of development

Optimum Potential
All Aspirants equal
Formidable or Despicable
Never decide
What is in Store
Who is tuned for Glory
Time tells us the Story

Attitude to Outcome
Whatever is Welcome
Not Thinking yet
Not Dreaming yet
Ready for whatever may come

Compete against the world
Impossible task to behold
Easiest way to judge yourself
Are you better than your
Yesterday self

Anticipate Result
Faulty Method
Engage in Process
Rest will happen
For the best

Process not a Ritual
Expression of self Spiritual
Relationship Mutual
Effort Result Equation
No better demonstration

Spiritual insight
Brings to light
Opponent an Illusion
Reality definition
outside competition
Mirage in Inner Vision
One with the engagement
Is final enlightenment