"fortify" poems
Buildings for the most part are boxes square.
But Pentecost circles and spirals,
they turn and burn wild.
Of those who would tame
and make comprehensible any fire--
apt tongues have gone titch titch
and beautiful catch 'til words and music
and parlor diplomacies fortify
much which is untrue.
Fear has no finish, even in our dying.
The path is a cliff edge.
Let us turn, un-adult-like, and strip ourselves
of civilized persuasions. Usher
Earth's children into primordial worlds.
Water shall love and receive us, as it always has.
The naked ground will speak up,
into our touching feet.
Listen to the tongues of the wind.
Unhinge the body, which is you.
Let all creation fly.
May 20, 2013
May 20, 2013 at 5:11 AM UTC
In the presence of the enemy
He split his force in two.
His red coated invaders
displayed contempt for the Zulu.
How else to explain their failure
to fortify the camp?
Twenty Thousand warriors
Put them in a deadly clamp.
It was a fearsome slaughter
redcoats falling by the score.
Thirteen hundred swept away-
No prisoners of war.
assegai thrusting spears struck home
The Sun would shine no more.
The Thin Red Line was broken,
each man fighting his own war.
With ammunition running out
They fought with blade and ****
Until knobkierrie clubs struck home
And stabbing spears found gut.
The officers with horses,
without honor, fled the fray.
Escaping only with their lives
No storied heroes they.
Jun 23, 2013
Jun 23, 2013 at 1:04 AM UTC
I used to live in a country
That was based on liberty
And where just anybody
Could achieve prosperity
That with assured equality
And working diligently
One could expect definitely
To succeed economically
If you saved all the money
Left over from your salary
To save to bring your family
A step closer to solvency.
Not an impossible proposition,
It was based on the condition
Of a grand national institution
Which promised that stabilization
By taxing us and corporations
With an equitable correlation
Between folks of humble station
And the larger organizations
Working in happy syncopation.
A welcome feeling of elation
Would descend upon our nation
And keep us from stagnation
Or going into nationwide deflation,
Or just as scary, a huge inflation.
Now I look upon our history
And see decades of misery
Laid upon us by calumny
By those meant to fortify
And build up our security.
The constant forces of calamity
If we accept less than probity
From those who have no honesty
Choosing leaders based on beauty
A national cult of personality
Then permit political chicanery
By people with no dignity
Only a greedy criminality
That pretends to propriety
And a devout base of spirituality
When what we have is actually
A kangaroo court of dishonesty
Without a care for the citizenry.
May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 9:18 AM UTC
United [] [] [] Meanwhile
we boldly [] [] [] we fortify
decry [] [] [] our hearts
the loud [] [] [] not permitting
orange man [] [] [] entry
wailing for [] [] [] to anyone
a wall [] [] [] at all
.
Sep 1, 2018
Sep 1, 2018 at 1:11 AM UTC
Door is a set-up to detach open and closed,
Door is a make-up to split between outsider and insider,
Door is a structure to segregate have and haven’t,
Door is an arraignment to cover up sin,
Door is a perturb to nature,
Door is a device to support legacy of abuse,
Door is a tool to manipulate truth for concealing the phony;
Door is a tragedy to humanity to isolate it from bionetwork;
Get up and come together to break the door to fortify bionetworks!
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 12:07 PM UTC
*Claw beneath your ribs
Hold down wild you
Just for a little while
Feel the anguished flutter
Begging these gruff hands . . .*
1.
Fear takes commotive hold
Makes wooden legs
Delayed dance…..so delayed
Causing silent attendance of synchrony
No use stepping out for flight just yet, if alone
Will meantime practise wing-span
iron out brittle energy
attempt to fortify links
..
2.
Careless snubs to fragile sapling
Did absolutely nothing
To the course set out
Only hypocrites squander even half-truths
and wallow in obsequious words
rendering paralysis and decay
I will continue to claw beneath your ribs
Covert trove awaits us
In the tormented form of
Crashing waves on a broken coast
Hacked to near-distraction by potent searching
3.
Loss is not wasted
unseen by its absence:
evocative presence felt …with penniless eyes
I challenge you to visualise our melting:
perched on fate’s right shoulder
re-sent to this basic arena as buoyant token
summoned by that primordial, blue light
..
*the sun may well baulk and melt
at the ruddy sight of
such intense clawing beneath your ribs
(like your customary digging into my bristling blades)
To find my foetal place
within the calling drumbeats
of imperative you . . .*
S T, sunsday . . . 21 July 2013
Jul 21, 2013
Jul 21, 2013 at 4:50 AM UTC
the curling smoke
from warming fires
rise into the slate
gray sky of the
Beqaa Valley
sheaves of
rising prayers
expire in twisted plumes
dissipating into the
gloom of an ever
looming winter
overcast
refugees from
the Arab Spring's
uncivil wars
gather for warmth
around waning embers,
smoldering in the underbelly
of the lowliest bottom of rusted
steel drums, tended
with scavenged debris
some thought better
suited to fortify the
faltering hovels of
last resort
the fires
join us in
communal rings
straining the
tenuous links of
brotherhood, the
politics of men
assiduously tear
asunder
we count ourselves
among the fortunate,
blessed exiles recused
from the acrimony
of desecrated cities,
welcoming the
residencies of
bewailing lullabies
of colic infants, the
searing hunger of
stunted children and the
incomprehensible babble
the elderly eloquently
speak in tongues
of a desperate
exasperation
our nagging impotence
swaddle us in ambivalent
inabilities to master circumstances
profanely denigrating our humanity
privation is
our daily bread
the bitter manna
feasting on the
animosity the banquet
of rancor generously
prepares for
peace starved
pilgrims
in these
refugee camps
the cold cuts deeper
hunger pangs
grow sharper
our blighted dignity,
vanished livelihoods,
and the presence of
recently interred
loved ones trudge
through our mean
encampment as
fully enfranchised
citizens in our
distressed
kingdom
what was lost can
never be recovered
our homeland leveled
yet doors still stand open
silently pleading all
to cross a new
threshold
the full restoration
of our hope,
the reconstitution
of our flagging
humanity, the
spark of the
holy spirit
willfully uniting us
in the salvation
of reconciliation
is nigh
we are
the divine children
stoking the embers
tending the fire
that light pathways
through the cold
darkness of a
broken world
Oh come
Emmanuel,
dwell among us
Oh come
Emmanuel
ransom once
again the
poor captives
of Israel….
Selah
Music Selection:
L'Accorche-Choeur, Ensemble vocal Fribourg
Veni Veni Emmanuel
Everywhere
Christmas
2013
jbm
Dec 24, 2013
Dec 24, 2013 at 10:48 AM UTC
Engineer -
Building towers,
Building walls,
Building keeps,
Are you -
Reaching for the sky?
Trying to guard something in?
Trying to fortify?
Building towers to mimic flight,
Building walls to keep them out
Or keep something, someone, in
Building keeps to keep,
But to keep what?
I might ask,
Hamlet, what are you building
In that kingdom of yours?
What are you trying to achieve?
Oct 20, 2018
Oct 20, 2018 at 8:35 AM UTC
Down the road of the land of the baked beans,
we find this fruit wing of an Amazonian tree.
In autumn, when she turns dry and brown,
she unfastens from her mother tree and plunges down,
dwindling she begins to whirl in pain,
screaming in fear and agony but one cant hear any sound.
The winds are here to fortify that this suffering remain,
she twists, she turns, she whirls and shes headed for the ground.
With one last breath she takes one last spin,
and lands unbroken as she had always been.
Before she catches enough air to realize what a fall she had endured,
a curious soul picks her up and tosses her into the air and her misery is ensured.
Again she twists , she turns , she whirls yet unbroken she lands.
Away from family, unspoken, confused in different sands.
She endures a hundred such journeys from here.
In the brevity of its flight, here is the beauty of her plight.
Despite the solitude ,she maintains her fortitude.
She carries without letting it out that in her she carries another soul.
A seed.
A seed that will give rise to forest.
With their canopy, the trees in the forests will not only live for themselves,
they will provide for, protect and shelter many more.
tiny beings, super beings, all beings.
Her fall was only a rise, upside down.
Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 1:22 PM UTC
All he could see were numbers
that reached out and grabbed taxes
and takes, invoices and expenditures.
He could not see explanations of delight
that little mistake I made with fringe benefits,
those royalties that never came.
In the end his only concern was to pay the taxes
to build the roads, skyways and airports
where he would travel and stay.
I wondered how he slept at night
cocooned in numbers
just 1-9 with a hefty zero
that made the difference between rich and poor
I wondered how he could survive on numbers
no cucumbers, sunshine salads, beach beauties,
high waves of reckless living, low tides of penniless nights
and endless days of counting little many times over.
He said to me once: Save every cent,
fortify yourself against depression and
natural disasters, don't spend lavishly
there's a price to pay
cut up your credit card. Live austerely.
Oh yeah?. That same day I got an extra CC,
a nice Merc, some good looking sunglasses
(to shield my eyes from the accountants glare)
and a cruise to the Mediterranean
where the blue waters beckoned.
The accountant visited the GP
twice more than me that year.
I'm still working the fat off at the gym.
( I suspect petty poets do the same thing all the time?)
Author Notes
Anyone know this guy?
Check this Novel out!
The Chrysanthemum Trilogy: Transition
Marshall E Gass
ISBN 9781493137848
Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 5:21 PM UTC
A faith we fancy is that freedom is fabricated and forged for us by our forefathers who fought and forced their foes to forfeit their feud. They fended fiercely and defended fearlessly a fictionalized fact, freedom, filtered with fire and flame. A few fell to be famed fellows of the future while a fraction of the fraternity are farewelled faceless.
All those frigid flashback brought-forth what we framed and fantasized as freewill and forbade freaks to falsify our fascination.
It all falters as we fathom that freedom didn't fade ,but w/o a fons-et-ergo, a foolish fairytale foretold for us to falsely follow a formula for the foremen to fortify the fake façade of freedom while we flounder and they float.
And if we flush and fracture their folderol, we are flagged as flagitious, frauds and fellons.
For the feasibility of freedom is a mere ****** Fuckery to **** us.
Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 12:02 PM UTC
Walk walk walk
Fortify your freakish walls
Step up and fall upon the pulp
Of holy minds for precious law.
Gather, creature, gather
Absorb these crude misleadings
Regret the future, deviate
Flushed-out skies and rigid feelings.
Wait, then stop and wait
Start again, without the hand of fate
Till depth do us part
In the valleys, as a traitor.
May 19, 2010
May 19, 2010 at 2:34 PM UTC
O slimy tongue!
O patient tourist!
Your slow retreat has
left a lustrous spoor.
How admirable,
your bold simplicity—
no radiance to distract,
no carapace to fortify.
How you coil and flex,
a solitary finger
sliding across our
forgotten places.
How we yearn to
pet your soft tissue,
to feel its cool shiver,
the recoil of desiccation.
How honest the world
must be from below as
you devour the decayed,
savor that sour brutality.
Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 2:55 PM UTC
Sugar of the island;
crystalline.
Seclude thyself from
the fingers of the men of The World.
Birds of flight;
softened against the earth; hardened against the sky.
Avoid rest beneath
the head of the men of The World.
Fresh water of the brook;
serene.
Bubble, toil, and rush away from
The mouths of the men of The World.
Trees of the forest;
magnanimous.
Stand tenacious before the frailty of them;
fortify the earth as it is gouged by the men of The World.
Mountains that challenge the heavens;
stoic.
Hold thyself between them
the men, and The World.
Salt-water of the sea;
viscous.
Run thyself down the gullet
of the men of The World.
Cattle of the fields;
naive.
Hold thy tongue and stomach;
do not slave to the men of The World.
Fangs of the exiled hunters;
voracious.
Bare thy teeth against them;
consume the meat of the men of The World.
Children of men;
ambiguous.
Remain at play; thy memory will wither of
the men of The World.
Men of The World;
insolent; gluttonous.
Sit idle and fat;
thy follies shall decay beneath the history of The World.
Oct 10, 2018
Oct 10, 2018 at 6:06 PM UTC
Arcane rumblings bellow out from the infrastructure.
The secrets swell out from the wealthy infidels. Their water has broken.
The top-hat henchmen gather their whiskers.
Stuttering shock and leaking their whispers,
vulcan-loud.
The wise old casualties know all of what’s to come,
so they pack their sacks with their old guns
to fortify their army of one.
The news skips the billions of ignorant families
condemning daughters and sons to an army of none.
The first bullets abandon their barrels,
the kick-off to pain, from poise.
Eager to byte flesh, fur, faith,
eager to make some godawful noise.
The following blasts are a metallic symphony
Quickly looming, swooning,
booming into cacophony
in shrill-major.
Blood spatters pavement, under marching feet,
is dragged, looped about the streets in a homicide calligraphy,
paralyzing the squinting mercenaries.
Out come the canons,
dancing on their wheels,
silencing the gunfire,
spinning on their heels,
dissenting the sonata with rifle-explosion accompaniment.
Warrior sighs greet the late auxiliary:
armadas sing in baritone
while civilians scream soprano.
Children cry in alto.
Blood flows in legato.
Today some of us will die
so that the rest will open their eyes
to an oversky, cloud-bloated with lies.
While down below we blaze away our requiem.
And by the hand of this same melody we die.
Here lies humanity,
fashioning,
always,
a bellicose smile.
Sep 19, 2012
Sep 19, 2012 at 10:55 AM UTC
I have been thinking about & claim,
Is not the world all way too eccentric?
Anyone wondering how & why I claim so,
Should look at all of these facts so very fanatic.
The different crimes taking place in worldly realm,
Various wars & murders and thievery & rapes,
Outrageous scams & malignant corruption,
All fortify the claim of the world being so.
As I can infer from my first few thoughts,
About this fairly asymmetric world,
Where our orbit around the sun,
Is elliptical & not circular,
Our eccentricity is excused convincingly.
Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 12:02 AM UTC
Tearing off
Imperialists' mantle
True to his name Fidel
He had lit
To the oppressed masses
And to those in the dark
An much-needed candle.
Weighing things from
Fraternity's angle
And the truth,
Fidel was not remiss
In dispatching own troops
In far off beyonds
To fortify for freedom
Mounted battle.
Considerate Fidel had taught
Innumerable orphans,
Whose combatant fathers lost.
Frowning up on
Amassing personal wealth,
He was building
The human power
Of the 3rd world like Ethiopia,
Among others,
In agriculture and health!
Stooping
To glittering things
While many leaders worried
To hanker for personal gain,
Fidel Castro,magnanimous,
Opted to assuage
The marginalized's pain.
For doing so
The shameless&bloodsucker;
Imperialists were trying
To **** him again and again.
Yes, Fidle was their bane!
Though Fidel is no more
His legacy we shall live to adore!//
Fiedel Castro was a true friend of Ethiopia!
Dec 9, 2016
Dec 9, 2016 at 8:39 AM UTC
ln the realm of the spirit exsits the strongest form of battle
a battle only mantle can conquer.
In the realm of the Spirtual exists the greatest form of battle,
a mantle that attracts a battle.
Let the mantle carrier fortify himself for battle
a battle only won by mantle.
It superceeds other battles.
Every mantle attracts a battle,
therefore seek to attack than defend.
The anointing from the mantle attracts resistance from the adversery.
Never give up your mantle for the battle,
knowing your conviction is your condition.
Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 4:05 AM UTC
We like to take care of skinny people
as if they were just passing through.
Like if we don't hold them tight, they'll disappear.
We put sweaters on them
bundle them up with words of concern.
We take them in.
We tuck them in.
It becomes an addiction
that runs both ways.
I fell in love with worried eyes
and pursed lips, the feeling
of ribs knocking into the yielding flesh
of a whole universe of mothers.
They do not leave.
They stay and take care of you
fortify you, nourish you,
bring the colour back.
Skinny, I can't let you go
because I don't know how
to just ask
for love.
Not from them,
and not from me.
I don't wanna grow up
I don't wanna die
keep me at age five
before the flood came
bring her back
take nothing away
ever, ever again.
*Not strong enough to feed myself the inherent right for affection
and not brave enough to be strong.*
And so that's why I chose you, Skinny.
My collar bones are my contingency plan.
If they disappear too, God help me-
because I got nothing.
Apr 18, 2013
Apr 18, 2013 at 11:25 AM UTC
Yellow light, dust
The smiling face
Eyes beckoning to hear
White plastic, encrusted
A new love, entrusted
Bonds reaching only
In thought they masquerade
Bonds here, tight
Strengthen and Fortify
To have these thoughts again
To replace morbid guilt
To find you amongst the dirt
And tears, of orphans and needles
To take these feelings with yours,
And bury them, tied with quilt
To return again to the bosoms of our mothers
One proud, one sad
Truth would have it reversed
Nov 1, 2012
Nov 1, 2012 at 2:33 PM UTC
An alien desire takes over
Never felt before
New awareness of existence
When I obliterate the visible
Fortify the mind from distractions
So many structures
Creating an ugly landscape
Obfuscating the horizon
Take control of the imagination
To expunge the unnecessary
Extravagant paraphernalia
Overt exhibition of the trivial
Making a jest of this rich life
Veer away from the mindless journey
Let the alien desire take over
None but you can salvage yourself
From the onslaught of false conformations
Nothing of this will last
Take refuge in the truth of nothingness
Be aware of new existence
In perfect ecstasy and coherence
With the harmonious waves of universe
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 8:26 AM UTC
you prepare me with your words
and undress me with your eyes
you dismantle me with your lips
and fortify me in between your thighs
Oct 7, 2018
Oct 7, 2018 at 8:51 PM UTC
You..My tangled divine of tender thought.
Deep passions planted as twilight’s homage.
Et al, wrapped bare as Dionysus dream.
Twist we do as sunny side up we are.
And you are, sheltered from the inclement of ever so frosty.
Espalier. Me.
You…Of lush growth, green assured.
and so, cajoled by mindful ****
A peek-a-boo folly as seasons fortify.
Oh that of my ripe full body, dare, gather me.
Plump select as moonlight crush, in barefoot belly dance.
Age. Me.
You…Fine sup you are of blend mature.
That of cork once popped.
de stilled a few times.
Knows yet, that as me…
Were I to put a label on you.
Well…
You would be a great vintage, with just a whiff of attitude.
Raise. Me.
Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 10:32 PM UTC
This is a call to Arms
The time for action is now.
Our government is preparing for War
They're building walls and cutting ties
to conquer us they must divide
us from ourselves and from our world
This is a call to Arms
The time for Action is now
The board is set, and we, the Pawns, are all in our place, facing an enemy we are told to defeat,
though they appear to be identical to you and me.
This is a Call to Arms
The time for action is now
We must revolt
Lest we be sacrificed to Kings
To Queens, to Bishops
To the knights of the realm and the castles they call home.
This is a call to Arms
The time for action is now
We must band together to be heard
We will not be cannon fodder
For the frontlines of a culture War
This is a Call to Arms
The time for action is now.
Defeat looms ever closer
The Reckoning draws nigh
Will you stand and deliver
Or will you bow down and submit?
Will you face the coming adversity,
or brave the consequences
should you turn your back to it?
This is a call to arms
They've taken land and sea and air,
Poisoned them to **** us,
and then billed us for the repair.
The enemy surrounds us,
Threatening life and limb and freedom.
Demanding fealty and obedience.
Demanding tribute for the war chest,
And soldiers for the ranks,
Demanding that we pay the cost while they set price.
They want us broken, not just beaten
Only unconditional surrender will suffice
This is a call to Arms
The time for action is now
To chant the castles down
To fortify the streets
Against the tyranny and the hate,
Against powers of subjugation,
Against the evils of the world
now
Jan 27, 2017
Jan 27, 2017 at 7:45 PM UTC
Content in a cornered part of the far reaches of France
Where the gypsies naked prance and hastily dance
Stars shine down on the groups of merry peasants
Who talk love tell and pluck soon to be dead pheasants
Here the children tell of monsters mixed to death with lore
Milk pours from every cow and food grows more and more
Rocks forget themselves underneath a bubbling river bed
No one cries for here no one is beckoned to the river of the dead
Illusions fortify their eyes and their beating red hearts
Cars are parked for the horses as their only means to start
On adventures to moon lit mortuaries candle lit dinner parties
Dancing with ghosts sporting their finest being quite flirty
I envisioned myself beneath the elm tree reading and writing
Listening to no sounds of husband and wife fighting
Some may call this place eden heaven or even impossible
But I see it as a world hopeful to soon be chronicled
Jul 12, 2011
Jul 12, 2011 at 3:45 PM UTC