"blusterous" poems - Hello Poetry

by rgpage I never cried in viet nam, I just seemed to take it in. The missing limbs and twisted flesh friends one day and gone the next. Was I too young to understand? And need someone to take my hand? No mother there to hold my hand no father there to teach me ways. To lead me through the day by days. Just left alone, and alone I stayed Instead I found my bottle friend to stay my tears and hide my fears. Back then “charley” felt they owned the night. With blusterous thud the mortars hit, Of saying hi it was “charley’s” way then to be my friend by day. From no where came the dragon ship, and tipping his left wing as a polite executioner saluting his victim just before unleashing hell. W/ firery tongue lapping up the earth while mini-guns roared, eagerly devouring all living things, leaving “charley” w/ no where to run. All clear, a small visit w/ my bottle friend and back to sleep in the alcohol deep. I was no John Wayne, I didn’t fight the war a target yes for “charley’s” sights when the sun gave way to night. But no, I didn’t fight. I never cried glossary: Charley=VC=viet cong=enemy: by day he acted like any of the population, some were even employed around the various bases. But at sundown he would turn… Dragonship=C-47=2 or 3 several barreled mini-guns mounted on left side of the plane capable of firing a few 1000 rounds per minute each w/ a phosphorous round placed at every 6th round a tracer. At night this made it look like a steady stream of fire coming from the plane, hence the name “dragon ship” or “puff the magic dragon.” To aim the pilot had to dip his left wing and fly in a counter clock wise fashion. Very effective weapon… Written for a special friend A.S.

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Apr 26, 2013

Apr 26, 2013 at 12:00 PM UTC

robert-g-page

I Never Cried

by rgpage I never cried in viet nam, I just seemed to take it in. The missing limbs and twisted flesh friends one day and gone the next. Was I too young to understand? And need someone to take my hand? No mother there to hold my hand no father there to teach me ways. To lead me through the day by days. Just left alone, and alone I stayed Instead I found my bottle friend to stay my tears and hide my fears. Back then “charley” felt they owned the night. With blusterous thud the mortars hit, Of saying hi it was “charley’s” way then to be my friend by day. From no where came the dragon ship, and tipping his left wing as a polite executioner saluting his victim just before unleashing hell. W/ firery tongue lapping up the earth while mini-guns roared, eagerly devouring all living things, leaving “charley” w/ no where to run. All clear, a small visit w/ my bottle friend and back to sleep in the alcohol deep. I was no John Wayne, I didn’t fight the war a target yes for “charley’s” sights when the sun gave way to night. But no, I didn’t fight. I never cried glossary: Charley=VC=viet cong=enemy: by day he acted like any of the population, some were even employed around the various bases. But at sundown he would turn… Dragonship=C-47=2 or 3 several barreled mini-guns mounted on left side of the plane capable of firing a few 1000 rounds per minute each w/ a phosphorous round placed at every 6th round a tracer. At night this made it look like a steady stream of fire coming from the plane, hence the name “dragon ship” or “puff the magic dragon.” To aim the pilot had to dip his left wing and fly in a counter clock wise fashion. Very effective weapon… Written for a special friend A.S.

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If truth were nothing but a blur Would the rumors fly on broken wings Facts served out of can size meals Lies leaving dents in side cars driven By mystified stories of blusterous beings Would history make any money Selling its news to TV anchors Who only twist the hands of fate How would it come about Where would it end if it had no beginning What would the middle man's beat be How would it be foretold if it had no before So it may seem as a blur As truth only starts out as a hazy remark Untwist the hands of time As history unfolds iself Leaving manuscripts of unanswered questions Questionable doubt lynches itself Through remarkable words With expeditive tension Trapped beneath the big hand of epic proportions Open your eyes to clarify opinionated intelligence Impressions left in the sands of time

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Apr 7, 2010

Apr 7, 2010 at 9:40 AM UTC

aiden-l-k-riverstone

Clarity of Time

If truth were nothing but a blur Would the rumors fly on broken wings Facts served out of can size meals Lies leaving dents in side cars driven By mystified stories of blusterous beings Would history make any money Selling its news to TV anchors Who only twist the hands of fate How would it come about Where would it end if it had no beginning What would the middle man's beat be How would it be foretold if it had no before So it may seem as a blur As truth only starts out as a hazy remark Untwist the hands of time As history unfolds iself Leaving manuscripts of unanswered questions Questionable doubt lynches itself Through remarkable words With expeditive tension Trapped beneath the big hand of epic proportions Open your eyes to clarify opinionated intelligence Impressions left in the sands of time

23

You can lie in Wyoming, they don’t care in Arizona, you can mislead them in Mississippi but don’t mess with Georgia. You thought us “hicks from the sticks” but we were wise to your tricks, we just recorded your words, now you’ll get what you deserve. Your threats and fraudulent incitements, have earned you several indictments. You came down with your whole freak show, so they charged you under RICO. Come back to Georgia, Mr. Trump, it turns out you were the chump. Because we’ve got lots of new prisons and DAs with surly dispositions. In Georgia we don’t mind high flyers but man, we hate traitors and seditious liars. While many, it seems, fell for your blusterous aura, you ******* yourself good by messing with Georgia. . .

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Aug 15, 2023

Aug 15, 2023 at 1:46 PM UTC

anaisvionet

don’t mess with georgia

You can lie in Wyoming, they don’t care in Arizona, you can mislead them in Mississippi but don’t mess with Georgia. You thought us “hicks from the sticks” but we were wise to your tricks, we just recorded your words, now you’ll get what you deserve. Your threats and fraudulent incitements, have earned you several indictments. You came down with your whole freak show, so they charged you under RICO. Come back to Georgia, Mr. Trump, it turns out you were the chump. Because we’ve got lots of new prisons and DAs with surly dispositions. In Georgia we don’t mind high flyers but man, we hate traitors and seditious liars. While many, it seems, fell for your blusterous aura, you ******* yourself good by messing with Georgia. . .

22

There once were voices, that spoke of choices; blusterous and lustrous With an air of must-trust-us in tone, atop a gilded throne, wanton, and alone.

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Aug 23, 2014

Aug 23, 2014 at 1:28 PM UTC

scipio-africanus

mainline.

There once were voices, that spoke of choices; blusterous and lustrous With an air of must-trust-us in tone, atop a gilded throne, wanton, and alone.

2

A fierce an' blusterous wind blows 'round the snow; - bringing with it - to many a-men : great woes. It does, so, bring sorrow - an' it's hard to swallow : - that bone-chilling, brisk breeze out o' thee west. It blows in, determinedly, - as if it is on a quest; - a bitter journey putting many a-men to the test. Nay- there'll be no hunting, nor gathering, today; - guess all we can do now : ration thee food an' pray.

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Mar 15, 2017

Mar 15, 2017 at 7:34 PM UTC

HideousAegidiusOCrowley

Story O' A Storm

A fierce an' blusterous wind blows 'round the snow; - bringing with it - to many a-men : great woes. It does, so, bring sorrow - an' it's hard to swallow : - that bone-chilling, brisk breeze out o' thee west. It blows in, determinedly, - as if it is on a quest; - a bitter journey putting many a-men to the test. Nay- there'll be no hunting, nor gathering, today; - guess all we can do now : ration thee food an' pray.

8

Losing oneself into the breeze was wondrous, Faulting someone else was slanderous, Motioning to infinity without wings was flops, I knew it's a moreover repetitious, But for sure its own consciousness, Not calligraphy of plagiarisms, But that of blusterous Like the great Helios.

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May 9, 2018

May 9, 2018 at 9:37 AM UTC

Mpkpoems

Animus

Losing oneself into the breeze was wondrous, Faulting someone else was slanderous, Motioning to infinity without wings was flops, I knew it's a moreover repetitious, But for sure its own consciousness, Not calligraphy of plagiarisms, But that of blusterous Like the great Helios.

8

SOPHIE'S EYES are garden soil after heavy rain a puddle in black concrete the eyes you divulge to in confidence sympathizing and heart-whole a star-absent night charcoal blurred fingers an chasm between her eyelids MY MOTHER'S EYES are the beach grass of summer seaweed pulled from the surf in them i see growth a lawn darkening in sunshine the plants potted she waters and we pick the leaves from BEN'S EYES are the skin of limes pond water pearlescent and diverted he laughs without moving his lips even slightly a blinking, highlighted green street lights reflecting off a stange car passing by PAIGE'S EYES are a cloudless sky roughened ice cold, empirical beauty the ocean glaciated the petals of roses glossed over by frost if a look could **** maybe hers would MY GRANDFATHER'S EYES are steely grey the blusterous chaos of thunder darkening with age the sky in a hurricane the eyes of a hurricane

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Apr 11, 2017

Apr 11, 2017 at 6:22 AM UTC

teaganrose

windows

SOPHIE'S EYES are garden soil after heavy rain a puddle in black concrete the eyes you divulge to in confidence sympathizing and heart-whole a star-absent night charcoal blurred fingers an chasm between her eyelids MY MOTHER'S EYES are the beach grass of summer seaweed pulled from the surf in them i see growth a lawn darkening in sunshine the plants potted she waters and we pick the leaves from BEN'S EYES are the skin of limes pond water pearlescent and diverted he laughs without moving his lips even slightly a blinking, highlighted green street lights reflecting off a stange car passing by PAIGE'S EYES are a cloudless sky roughened ice cold, empirical beauty the ocean glaciated the petals of roses glossed over by frost if a look could **** maybe hers would MY GRANDFATHER'S EYES are steely grey the blusterous chaos of thunder darkening with age the sky in a hurricane the eyes of a hurricane

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