"deposed" poems
Ignorances innate wove curtain of veils
Cut usunder heretofore obscuring
Bodhicittas valedictory wintry gloom torn
Of enlightenments will factioning the
Silenced mammonish city kingdom truced
As the wings of Azrael clinch
Earthly thistles; monolithic raiments
Deposed Hull, Hell and Halifax parcae
The willowing of light unfettering Fenrirs
Durance, howling aconite psalms suspiring
Suffrage relict paving with mewed stars
Redemptions tithed talents bequeathed
Of Heavens sinister prayer burning
Acinta dusts thine ashes threading
The wilful sword of Gods destruction.
ELEETE J MUIR.
Jan 13, 2012
Jan 13, 2012 at 8:44 AM UTC
Come and hear the tale of a falling
This failure of a king, his story appalling
Come and hear of his last moment's calling
This man whom we once called our king.
A mad king anointed with power in mind
Crowned by desperation, crowned by the blind
A tyrannical king; No worse will you find
For this man is a servant of Hell.
He comes and he swears in God's holy name
To cater the people and lands that they tame
But it's I who knows of his little game
The political regime that he runs.
He sits on his throne and barks at his men
Demanding the whys and demanding the when
Slowly but surely he wears the string thin;
For the people may tolerate so much.
He works through the town, donning his crown
A hat that is envied by all in the town;
For the man is rich, the man is renowned!
This man whom all call their king.
Beneath him men die, but criminals don't pay
Put them to death, that's what I say!
This kings way is in no way the right way
But we the people can do naught but pray.
But good men exist, whom jail the unjust
Good men who work to earn the town's trust
And these good men speak out, shaking out the dust
And speak out against their king
The king starts to fear, his gate is now closed
And he starts to regret the options he chose
And now by good men this king is deposed
By good men this king is denied.
Now we call him a tyrant, we call him a fake
We spit on his image, his throne we forsake
We take up our arms, pitchfork and rake
And march to his door to knock.
Some killed by guards, but good men prevail
And blood rains down like late Summer hail
And in the end we hear the king wail
His death is announced the next morning.
Good men cheer and king's men glance back
Wondering what it was the mad king lacked
Though who didn't expect his castle ransacked
For was not the king of the wicked?
It matters not in the end, you will find
Good men un-knotted this terrible bind
They laugh and jest at history behind
And cast themselves to a new king.
But this ballad of history will soon be repeated
For in the halls of recurrence it is seated
This tragic comedy of rulers so heated
This tragic tale of a king.
May 5, 2013
May 5, 2013 at 3:53 PM UTC
I was foretold, your rebell ***
Nor love, nor pitty knew;
And with what scorn you use to vex
Poor hearts that humbly sue;
Yet I believ’d, to crown our pain,
Could we the fortress win,
The happy Lover sure should gain
A Paradise within:
I thought Loves plagues, like Dragons sate,
Only to fright us at the gate.
But I did enter, and enjoy
What happy Lovers prove;
For I could kiss, and sport, and toy,
And taste those sweets of love;
Which had they but a lasting state,
Or if in Celia’s brest
The force of love might not abate,
Jove were too mean a guest.
But now her breach of faith, farre more
Afflicts, than did her scorn before.
Hard fate! to have been once possest,
As victor, of a heart
Atchiev’d with labour, and unrest,
And then forc’d to depart.
If the stout Foe will not resigne
When I besiege a Town,
I lose, but what was never mine;
But he that is cast down
From enjoy’d beauty, feels a woe,
Only deposed Kings can know.
3.2k
Sings a small boy whose hair is tousled by the wind,
As too the folds of his mother’s peplos and the robes of clouds,
When Greece gathers in silence like the stillness for a deposed crown,
And all Athens around, the song of eiresione for firstfruits of Autumn,
Singing boys with the olive branches of colored wool and garlanded gourds,
A fall-bird to wander the Ionic sky, foretelling of new sunrise.
How that joyful ancient voice still haunts the songbird of sunset.
Apr 2, 2023
Apr 2, 2023 at 11:21 PM UTC
"The global bull market has continued its seemingly relentless advance, unchanged by geopolitical concerns…….."
• The Israeli-Hamas conflict now blazing in Gaza, Palestine, two military forces locked in a deadly struggle to the end, killing and maiming thousands of ordinary citizens.
• Malaysia Airlines flight 17 blasted out of a clear blue Ukraine sky by the Bus surface to air missile
unleashed by the Pro-Russian Separatists killing 298 unsuspecting, innocent, international travellers.
Culpability denied by all.
• Anwar Al Awlaki, the American born Cleric, directing clandestine terror attacks and assassination by Al Qaeda beyond the Middle east into Asia and Europe.
• Deposed President, Mohammed Morsi’s Muslim Brotherhood, responsible for terrorist activities including multiple car bombings throughout Egypt.
• President Bashar Assad of the Alawite minority, an offshoot of Syria’s Shiite religion, waging religious genocide against his own nations people
and now in open conflict with the Muslim uprising Sunni forces of the new Isis Caliphate.
• The beheadings, slaughter and terror unleashed by the Sunni, Isis Caliphate uprising rampaging through Iraq.
• Russia’s sudden invasion and forceful annexation of the Crimea.
• Russia’s brutal pressure on the sovereignty of the Ukraine through its clandestine weaponry supply and sponsorship of the Pro-Russian Separatist Forces occupying the nations East.
The Middle East is now…an Apocalypse.
This epoch of cruel waste
Where man kills man
For God and gold,
For power’s lust.
Where the Sword of Calamity
Wields destruction and death
On those who can least afford it
By they who should never impose it.
**In the face of all this …..an unbelievable prioritization with this headline quote from today’s NZ Herald….
“There are financial risks to be endlessly jumping at shadows…to overreact to market noise!"**
UNBELIEVABLE!!!!
M.
Auckland,
NEW ZEALAND
31 July 2014
Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 4:59 PM UTC
322
There came a Day at Summer’s full,
Entirely for me—
I thought that such were for the Saints,
Where Resurrections—be—
The Sun, as common, went abroad,
The flowers, accustomed, blew,
As if no soul the solstice passed
That maketh all things new—
The time was scarce profaned, by speech—
The symbol of a word
Was needless, as at Sacrament,
The Wardrobe—of our Lord—
Each was to each The Sealed Church,
Permitted to commune this—time—
Lest we too awkward show
At Supper of the Lamb.
The Hours slid fast—as Hours will,
Clutched tight, by greedy hands—
So faces on two Decks, look back,
Bound to opposing lands—
And so when all the time had leaked,
Without external sound
Each bound the Other’s Crucifix—
We gave no other Bond—
Sufficient troth, that we shall rise—
Deposed—at length, the Grave—
To that new Marriage,
Justified—through Calvaries of Love—
2k
on the day
we obviate all wars
our eyes shall see
a new dawn
as brothers and sisters
of the earth
we'll bear witness
to tranquility
history's pages
wrought in killing stains
conflicts repeated
too many times
our planet's inhabitants
all so blind
they see not
the dove of peace
man has forgotten
the tenant
of loving
thy neighbor
as an awful consequence
the gun rules with might
unto the drum
of nonviolence
man has not yet
begun to march
lay down
the sword of war
as it gravely
shadows all nations
on the horizon
a light doth flicker
beseeching man
to live cordially
dark clouds ever
they're looming
which path
shall man walk upon
the high road
leads to quiet
arms dispensed with
and deposed
pursuing the trail
of rancor
brings but
discordant clashes
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 6:42 PM UTC
The burning hunger of fractured regret
Your blasphemous assumption of my stupidity?
in whose material conundrum of a word?
in what abstract thought on your minimal plane?
An endless valley of craters and breaks
Monosyllabic color in your grossly proportioned mind
With all rotting media disgust and YOU mock me?
You ballooned beast of a drunken horror film nominee
The paint on a pigs face will always burn inward
Scarring the inside craniotomy
Until nothing is left but the repetition of a credo
An incline of standard flat bodies
****** up and deposed All living in a drawl world
Steeped in liquid
Stretched thin to cover the inquiries
To burn over and brand the thinkers and the lots
An Oklahoma city bombing is still carved into your fair-haired breath
Your bigotry is hilarious because my disgust could eat us all
Yes I am leaping off my high horse but **** you I deserve it
We frown upon pride unless it is clothed in metaphors of suppression
And to what do you overcome?
Your perfect quiet suburban upbringing
Exposure blackballing the floor boards filled with lies
Lies that are my foundation
Rocks that rust into marbles rattling
Around my stomach
With every rung the anger in my rib cage calls out to you
The yelping, the sheltered closet and the oriental rugs
Yes I am dumb like you
More happier in this fatal dichotomy
of a trip **** holy **** despotic mess.
Nov 30, 2010
Nov 30, 2010 at 9:26 AM UTC
Mao Zedong’s revolution deposed the ancient, 5000 year old rule of Dynastic China.
In doing so he espoused the continuous violent struggle by contradictory forces within society to produce a perpetual disequilibrium of revolt against intellectualism and Confucian principle and practice.
With the global collapse of Communistic systems, the wily genius of the diminutive, Deng Xiaoping, breathed new life into the faltering rule
With a cunning rebranding of “Socialism with Chinese Characteristics”, he maintained the stability of Chinese Communist kleptocracy until relatively recent times.
But the middle class awakening of Tiananmen Square and the recent Hong Kong massed protest, has brought into focus the demands of an increasingly educated, increasingly affluent, Chinese society’s expectation and demand for increased democratic rights and freedom and a more just system of the Rule of Law.
The day of the old, strong arm, autocratic rule is over.
China is emerging, quite naturally, into a world of increased information freedom, where the seeking of each individual’s betterment and independence promises a brighter future of personal dignity, increased self-esteem and an emerging sense of high anticipation.
President Xi Jinping’s Chinese Communist Party is now presented with the challenge to moderate in order to survive. To endeavour to embrace and meld the old concepts of Confucian harmony to the vaulting expectations of China’s new world beckoning.
M.
Denmark, Western Australia.
5 October 2014
Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 3:57 PM UTC
I am the sad widower, dissolute;
The prince of Aquitaine, by luck deposed:
My glistening soul is dead; its jeweled flute
sings perturbed melodies until opposed!
In the darkness of tombs, I am consoled.
Return, Oh Pospillo and the seas which doze:
The flower which pleases my heart has been sold;
And vines grow thick without the tender rose....
Am I love or Phoebus? ... Lusignan or Byron?
Still, I'm made to blush from the queen's embrace;
Although I dream in Neptune's silent place.
I have crossed the Acheron twice before:
Upon the Orphic lyre I've played by turns—
Saintly sighs and the awful cries of yore.
May 17, 2016
May 17, 2016 at 9:19 PM UTC
I won the bloomin' lottery,
Cor blimey so I did!
No more scrubbin' socks for me,
I've won ten million quid!
I'm goin' on a ******
Nuffin's gonna bring me down;
I'll be the biggest spender,
Gonna buy the whole **** town!
My new found wealth is awesome,
Have you seen my mansion pool?
I play tennis in a foursome,
And my coach is really cool;
On Wednesday's its Pilates,
And on Sunday's it's Judo!
Now I'm jetting to the Maldives,
Toodle-pip -- I have to go!
One finds oneself most indisposed,
To do this interview;
One's butler will be swift deposed,
For letting you get through;
One will accede to your request,
Tho' Sir, this is your lot;
Despite the wealth with which one's blessed,
One has not changed a jot!
Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 12:54 AM UTC
Naneun, Yeon Feisu Imnida
Reared from a turkish tribe
Faced the border's Yuan army
The commander who had the Silk Road
Daughter of General Batolu
A warrior, who had lost her mind
The warzone was full of blood and loss
The battlefield was full of corpse
Their bodies crying for the agony to end
You, a deposed Goryo monarch
Spared my life from hellfire
Left to breathe in shame and sorrow
Left with no chance to live
With dignity and honor
I became your lifeless subject
I picked up the sword
Buried the last ounce of hope
For my tribe, my home
Whom you conquered
A hunt for Gumihos and Tigers
You threw yourself as prey
To save the chased nine-tailed fox
The emperor's most favored consort
You dare stare at your possible death
And took the blade for her sake
While I took the poison arrow
You dared show me your weakness
I dared mend your wounded chest
I tried to unlove you
So I could protect you,
For I'll never have your heart
There will always be two martyrs:
The oppressed and the oppresor
The protected and the protector
I wish I could rest from the battle
I fought alone
And find my own path
I had to leave
For my life is of my tribe
I left, having the concern in your eyes
Oct 25, 2016
Oct 25, 2016 at 11:07 PM UTC
When I look into the abyss,
Is it just as confused as I?
What does the dark depth ponder,
When it gazes into me?
Am I impossible?
Can it not even
Fathom all my pieces,
Or how they fit?
How cool the wind will blow -
But is the western sand
Still hot when the storm claws at my face
To scratch out my eyes?
Am I a seat to be despised,
Deposed like a future convict
Railing at the charges held over my head?
Why is it judging me
For not playing along with the game I had no part in creating?
I conject no scheme of ill intent.
Peace, I bid Thee well.
I go my way.
Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 at 2:46 AM UTC
So what about it all my friend ?
Has life smiled upon your face?
Do you feel the warming emanate
From within the planet’s grace?
Has chance played a fruitful hand to you
In lady luck’s cruel whim ?
Has mercy touched your Devil’s side
When you’ve clashed horns with him?
Did something hold you back that night
When anger splashed its bile,
Across your pale and youthful brow
Across your jaws profile ?
What contained reaction so?
How did you stay composed,
When all around was turmoil
And reason lay deposed ?
What brought a small smile to your face,
A sparkle to your eye ?
How could you see the innocence
In this blackness called a lie ?
What is it in your make up
Which promulgates your best
When others will capitulate
To fail the crucial test ?
Why is it that you stand so tall
Among the mottled crowd ?
Do you realize your influence
In making we, around you, proud ?
Is the weight of our dependence
A millstone round your neck ?
Or do you take it all within your stride
And grin and…What the heck ?
Do you recognize your leadership,
How you wear this mantle well ?
Dare you hold the flame aloft for us
To strive under your spell ?
Will you wear this robe of Kingship ?
Will you steer our ship of state ?
…For should you guide us to tomorrow
We can tomorrow’s burdens break.
Marshalg
@theCoalface
Victoria Park Tunnel
10 April 2010
Apr 9, 2010
Apr 9, 2010 at 1:31 PM UTC
A politician with a radio
and a fridge with a ****
as he spoke pidgin
and dapper the reason
that captured a signal
but stayed the season
'twas a gowan too
in stead brown hair
as a bride in favor
yet deposed his table
though a granita now
will disguise his inference
yet detest his deference
in ridge there a pidgeon
flew his message away
and pearly was his religion
Mar 7, 2017
Mar 7, 2017 at 11:55 AM UTC
The Queen of Qanant
Was a right royal ****
A ***** of the first water.
And almost as bad
Was the offspring she had,
Her high-class badass daughter.
She looked at folks funny
If they didn’t have money
To her it was all about gifts.
The Queen didn’t share
That her kid pulled her hair
Her stinginess created a rift.
The Queen of Qanant
Had all she could want
Spangles and baubles galore.
She had so much junk
She needed four hunks
To carry it all through the door.
Her land was in a pickle
No downward dollar trickle
With which the poor could pay rent.
She ignored all petitions
To improve the conditions
Thus a civil rebellion could foment.
Her people could starve,
No roast beast to carve;
To her the whole issue was closed.
So her daughter colluded
And the story concluded
When Mommy the Queen was deposed.
So, that’s what’s in store
When you ***** with the poor
And ignore their righteous complaining.
That’s the way things are
You get only so far
To **** on them and tell them it’s raining.
The daughter was no better
She matched mom to the letter
And the whole story started again.
But that’s what people earn
When they never quite learn;
They end up back where they’ve been.
Nov 27, 2015
Nov 27, 2015 at 2:44 PM UTC
"Bad"
"'Bad' is just a huge promise of a song. A friend of mine, about as close as you can get, squandered his intelligence and his gifts to ****** Dublin in the late Seventies and early Eighties was a capital for smack. The Shah of Iran had been deposed, and people smuggled their money out of that country in white gold and pearls, by which I mean ****** It was cheaper than **** it was cheaper than smoking spliff, and a lot of sweet teenage kids, who just liked to smoke a little bit of ***** were offered this cheap high, something beyond their imagination... I tried to describe that with the song, 'Bad, what it was to feel that rush, to feel that elation, and then go on to the nod, awful sleep that comes with that drug..." - Bono, U2 By U2 2006
If you twist and turn away
If you tear yourself in two again
If I could, yes I would
If I could, I would let it go
Surrender, dislocate
If I could throw this lifeless
Lifeline to the wind
Leave this heart of clay
See you walk, walk away
Into the night
And through the rain
Into the half-light
And through the flame
If I could, through myself
Set your spirit free
I'd lead your heart away
See you break, break away
Into the light
And to the day
To let it go
And so to find a way
To let it go
And so find a way
I'm wide awake
I'm wide awake
I'm not sleeping
Oh, no, no
If you should ask, then maybe
They'd tell you what I would say
True colours fly in blue and black
Blue silken sky and burning flag
Colours crash, collide in blood shot eyes
If I could, you know I would
If I could, I would let it go
This desparation
Dislocation
Separation
Condemnation
Revelation
In temptation
Isolation
Desolation
Let it go
And so to find a way
To let it go
And so find a way
Oh, no
I'm wide awake
I'm wide awake
I'm not sleeping
Oh, no no
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 6:51 PM UTC
Produced the reduced use of deuced youth as well fall flat on back relapse of a matter oh’ fact there is no reason to bring back the lack of acts that have collapsed as endorse isn’t the course we force the indorsed remorse’s horse it how it sounds from the round about turned down, wrapped around the mound of wound bounds traced as we wish to erase the missed ace am disgraced to waste the space from haste it is misplaced finding grace abducted, while we are interrupted so disruptive all corrupted instructed that we be introduced to a new place to set loose then choose to roost.
Audible is honorable when placed in space of a new disgrace we haste to chase the base relate the mate is gallant, accordant abeyant to reliant now defiant why deny, when have tried to reply the unquestionable supply of high relies reprieved cephalized isn’t the aim to gain the same remains of main stained for blame, have strained the aim of shame to restrain the bargain attain then pass the refrain again the demand to stand on the right hand of man as have banned the uttermost do tend to boast then coast on to deposed what isn’t supposed to mean the most.
Regulate the agitate of will you wait till the proper date to calibrate where we have done, what have become after having won no youth refund underhung rung the reliefs beliefs in this we speak to realize have agonized the civilized tho don’t deprive for now do thrive from abrasive wise isn’t lies relented the dependent to sentence the pendent, abolishment of what was, have turned around the have does, to what wasn’t because of we lock without a knock of shock we stopped and sought to sample of what before couldn’t handle now we have another hand ful to dandle.
Oct 17, 2011
Oct 17, 2011 at 7:25 PM UTC
Don Junior had a meeting with
Natalia Veselnitskaya
and he did not disclose this fact
or say what did transpire.
Paul and Jared were there too
but "nothing was discussed".
Don said the meeting ended
and turned out to be a bust.
The New York Times found out
and asked why Don did not report.
"But nothing happened" Junior claimed
when making his retort.
Then under pressure from the press
some emails he set free,
confirming Russian interest in
a Trump presidency.
His daddy claimed, "He's a good boy"
"He's new, green and naive".
But Manafort - He should have known
(one would like to believe).
But Junior's new transparency
turned out to be untrue...
It seems that a fifth person was
there in the meeting too!
A former Soviet officer
named Rinat Akhmetshin
was also at the meeting...
so why was he brought in?
And then we soon learned of a sixth...
a seventh... and then eight!
Tied to the oligarchs and
Russian governmental state.
What was the meeting all about?
Perhaps there's nothing to surmise.
The secrecy though, would suggest
it might be otherwise.
Don Junior had a meeting
that nobody disclosed.
Let's hope this helps fulfill the dream...
to see his dad deposed!
Jul 21, 2017
Jul 21, 2017 at 9:34 PM UTC
Like a colossal building giving way
Bending breaking as from side to side it starts to sway
Shards of glass raining down
As an unrelenting storm pounds the ground
A king deposed of his crown
Your words make this unbearable sound
I stand unable to breathe
as the words you uttered have broken me
I stumble unable to bear the burden
I fall slowly to my knees
The world fades to an icy black
The numbness seems to spread from my being
The light seems to dim from my eyes
I simply look without seeing
As my beliefs are have now turned to lies
Color fades from this earth
Sensation ceases on this land
Gone from my spirit has the mirth
You have caused a deviation from the plan
How begs the question, why demands the plea
Wasn’t I the one you said I was supposed to be
A pain like none I have ever felt
The core of my being you begins melt
Weakness takes over me
I hate the way you get see my vulnerability
I hate the way you will now know
My hearts ebb and flow
I hate the way I let you see
The deepest part of me
For with less words than it took to take a breath
You have sentenced my heart to a painful death
With but a simple caress
You have cast my mind to unyielding duress
And the part that really gets to me
In my heart it is you I will always see
Dec 11, 2011
Dec 11, 2011 at 6:39 PM UTC
My dear,
A little matter I've failed to mention,
I'm the deposed Ruritratinate of Ruritania.
A sad story, really,
My uncle deposed me for the declaring the empire a poetic state.
I was taken to the boarder,
made to swim one of the glacial rivers isolating my country.
I live an ex-patriot's life,
each morning writing a poem,
and sending it to my loyal subjects attached to the next wind.
Jan 18, 2011
Jan 18, 2011 at 8:24 AM UTC
responsum ego: inviso alibi.
monotheism doesn't work
based on one principle:
(one man cannot provide all the answers
given so many people are left
questioned, and in their questioning
cannot resolve a single answer,
let alone provide a single satisfying question) -
*uno **** non sufficio omni responsum* -
the remnants of monotheism are imbued
with monarchy, and it's so called
export-worthy status,
first the western powers export monarchy,
then they export the deposing power,
the monarch soon to be the despot
deposed by democracy... shambles...
one man cannot suffice all answers,
even the jews endear history for moses' kindred
with themselves as moses a non-jew,
40 years in the desert ably limbed is too
much hence their eager glorification of the crucifixion,
less a distance travelled they say, they say,
cousins of arabs and arabs joking
originating from the yoke womb of abraham's concubine...
*uno **** non sufficio omni responsum vel quaesitio*.
Feb 28, 2016
Feb 28, 2016 at 12:40 PM UTC
The other day in madness walked I past
The tree we used to sit beneath on days
As fury white and emerald cold as this.
To me, the tree looked clothed in common rays
But still I felt a change upon the air,
Indicative of one who would not speak
At once upon the edge of crying out
With words of import; so I heard, though weak,
"Call me and I'll divulge." Thus paused there I,
Beneath a cruel empery of thought
Not dispossessed of thee, and still I spoke,
And through the word, I have deposed thee not.
The other day in madness spoke the trees,
But what they spoke of from me ever flees.
Oct 27, 2010
Oct 27, 2010 at 10:45 PM UTC
you dream of wings
and cruel deposed kings.
your eyes have left
having witnessed so much theft.
you may waste away
and so i beg you to stay
but you are lost
within a castle's frost
your thoughts have turned bitter
and your dreams now flitter
the light returns
but the coldness burns
and i ask you
to live
for me.
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 10:24 PM UTC