"hague" poems
If anything should happen to The Hague,
if someday they abandon Amsterdam,
philosophers will take these strange and vague
descriptions, and derive each tree and tram
by mathematical necessity:
should nations shake their fists across the seas
with words of war, it follows there must be
a middle ground, a people loving peace.
And is this scrap alone a netherland?
Not so: we spend our nights beneath the sky,
and every country's low for us, who stand
a thousand miles below the lights on high;
if only I could learn to live as such,
and count myself as kindly as the Dutch.
Aug 1, 2010
Aug 1, 2010 at 6:07 AM UTC
"They're selling postcards of the hanging" Bob Dylan
Frolicking in the Hague festooned
as if some monarch's golden jubilee
not a room left empty in all the land
queues for miles to get a ringside seat
at what is billed as The Trial of Man
as W, **** and Rummy sit chained
to the bionic calves of barstools while
Condo Lisa bears witness atop a piano
ferreted throughout the conurbation
breadlines and circuitous routes
recalling the Nicaraguan case
low on the radar of short-term
the disunited states of disarray
vetoes its own trial's outcome
and it is business as usual
Nov 2, 2013
Nov 2, 2013 at 11:42 PM UTC
ANTLIKE STRENGTHS
A poem by Tricia Hague-Barrett 1993
An ant carries its large load across the cracks
in the path on its way homeward
Nothing gets in its way
Nothing prevents him from succeeding,
If only I could have seen the end in the beginning
where struggles are frequent but passable,
testing but not breaking my resolve to give in
to the desparate feelings of loneliness, tiredness.
Ant-like, I too have to learn to carry the heavy load,
The Teaching load, the Administrative load,
carry it across potholes, ditches, mountains
and through distant valleys of calmness.
Turbulent tests, stumbling stones,
each there to guide me along the way
Like guardian angels, each one
Heralding the Dawn of a New Day.
Ends.
(C) 1993
Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 4:45 PM UTC
There was an Old Man of the Hague,
Whose ideas were excessively vague;
He built a balloon
To examine the moon,
That deluded Old Man of the Hague.
1.1k
DR. Congo
I saw the villa Joseph Kabila bought in Algarve it is to be a bolt hole
when he has to flee Congo, he has blood on his hands perhaps not
enough for Hague to bother about, like so many African presidents,
he has robbed his country to destitution.
Perhaps this echoing country, with forests is too big to be governed
especially since no money is spent on new roads; Kinshasa its capital is
run mostly by mixed races, not even they can keep order and people
throw all their ******* in the street.
Joseph Kabila, Joseph's father, tried ordered a thousand wheelbarrows
gave a job to ditto street cleaners who sold their wheelbarrows and
consequently lost their jobs. But these setbacks are not the problem
Congo is too rich in minerals, oil and timber and the big international
businesses have descended upon the land corrupting all in its wake like
a locust plague they have failed to get rid of and they have no interest
in making Congo a nation which, it will be when it is a more modern.
I looked inside the villa it had cavernous rooms gold and glitter quite
fitting for someone who doesn't know the value of anything but gems
and never mind the culture
Feb 7, 2017
Feb 7, 2017 at 4:07 AM UTC
I.
These stars, this twilight palaver, out by what used to be a Wal-Mart;
walking down streets in a fairytale, apart from you,
putting on a good show, when all I wanted was to hold your hand.
My memories don't progress like pages, but ebb and flow,
the way the river does, as it winds its way to the delta,
with rapids around every other bend.
What is and what was and what should have been are written in your eyes,
grey eyes, eyes that pierce me like lances when I gaze too long;
my self then, afraid of being naked.
I clothed myself in words, and folly; raised myself up as intelligentsia,
as protection, which you saw through so easily.
What it was I wanted protection from, God only knows.
I bend my thoughts to you, my heart and hopes searching for some message,
some sign, some carrier pigeon from the Hague,
sent to change everything in one stroke.
II.
Walking in green fields once,
somewhere in high summer
full of the growing things
we turned
and were
here.
Here?
Yes.
Now?
I want to, please, yes.
The grass was so soft, the sun an everlasting lamp,
the world so clear I could almost see through it.
How can I?
Easily.
III.
Needles, so many needles.
I should have been there
Would have been there
But I made my choices
As you did yours
And who I was then
Was not who you needed
They told me you had a death drive
Who they were to fling Jung around like that
In passing remark about you
I will never know
Here let me.
No.
Please.
I wept for you
I still weep for you inside
This burning you have given me
Imagining as it should have been
IV.
I found you on the floor in your kitchen
Alone
Cold
Barely even a ghost
I gathered you in my arms
And put you in the car
And drove
We drove out past the city lights
On into the dying West
Your feet on the dash
And your heart in my hands
Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 12:03 AM UTC
Copyright ©Tricia Hague-Barrett 1993
We must recognize that under duress,
great things are born.
Diamonds form in molten rock.
Gold is tested in the fire.
The sweetest flowers of man’s spirit
have often been watered by tears.
To struggle gives strength,
to endure breeds greater capacity for endurance.
We must not run away from the heart-breaks in life;
we must go through them,
however fiery they may be,
and bring with us out of the fire
a stronger character,
a deeper reliance on ourselves
and on the Creator Who,
like a good parent, chastises us
because He loves us,
and realize that the pain is worth
the prize that can be won.
This is indeed a power world,
and great forces are at play,
the sun, the wind, the rain,
night and day,
they are big things
powerful things,
making powerful changes in the land,
removing old scars,
bringing new ones.
Electricity, gravitation,
are strong forces forging the earth
with all its beauty it’s life its growth.
We human beings
are subjected to strong forces too,
love, hate, passion, fear, sorrow, pain,
each acting on us, spurring us on,
developing those qualities giving us colour,
individuality.
Why should we want to shun and abolish
factors that bring out the best in us?
That tempers our steel?
Teaching us to value happiness
as its true worth?
Can a man who has never been hungry
in all his life know what a piece of bread means,
savour all its sweetness as can a man who has starved?
So, when trouble comes our way,
think about what quality
I may need to develop for this given situation,
never knowing, it may b e a quality needed
without our even knowing.
ENDS
Nov 2, 2015
Nov 2, 2015 at 1:48 AM UTC
News on the Internet
*** it’s the age of hyperbole!
Legendary icons dropping their jaws!!
Aliens in spaceships watching humans flee
A purple polar bear flapping twelve paws!!!
Blockbuster! Stunning!! Your life will be changed!!!
Putin really is that albino monk!!!!
And did you hear that the Pope is deranged!?!?!?!?!?
He keeps in the Vatican a sacred skunk!!!!!!!
Tectonic plates are shifting; France is gone!
Heart-stopping, eye-popping, cow-flopping news!!
****** called it in on his new smart ‘phone!!!
It’s all the fault of the Catholics and Jews!!!!
Mass graves in Texas, Ireland, and The Hague!
Looky here, see, here’s some pictures an’ stuff!!
Okay, the sources are a little vague
But we want to believe, and that’s enough!!!
Jan 16, 2017
Jan 16, 2017 at 7:19 PM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
Your secret’s out
Now everybody knows
He gave you that rock
Like we first supposed
So model it
Come on and strike a pose
But maybe first
Straighten out your clothes
Let me pick a contentious bone
You can tell a diamond - from a ***** stone
And we’re not dumb enough to be deceived
So your account was never believed
I sympathize with you
I know that truth hurts
Now you’re about to get
Your just desserts
See that’s what sometimes happens
To you flirts
When showin’ off what’s underneath
Your skirts
Let me pick a contentious bone
You can tell a diamond - from a ***** stone
And we’re not dumb enough to be deceived
So your account was never believed
You went to the Hague
To testify but lied
The version that you told
By others was denied
And even those who wanna
Be on your side
Know the truth was sumthin
You never applied
Let me pick a contentious bone
You can tell a diamond - from a ***** stone
And we’re not dumb enough to be deceived
So your account was never believed
It’s too late for the truth
The damage has been done
To your tattered image
Now you don’t have one
But that’s what you deserve
If the truth be told
Cuz justice must be served
And it’s best served cold
You went to the Hague
To testify but lied
The version that you told
By others was denied
And even those who wanna
Be on your side
Know the truth was sumthin
You never applied
Let me pick a contentious bone
You can tell a diamond - from a ***** stone
And we’re not dumb enough to be deceived
So your account was never believed
(c) Copyright 2015, Cedric McClester. All rights reserved.
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 10:47 PM UTC
"You know how I art ... intimately"
On broken city walls with crotches
these times I stencil is a parody
"its free, its me... with all my blotches"
Why **** my trapped rat in Hague?
You brought back, black this plague
from the West Sea sand to Bristol
made clearer with a ball of crystal
Provocative lives alive in deaf canned colour
yet reality's dead among sidewalk's clutter
if your heart really wants a Banksy's piece
My B +'s homogenized on a Petri dish for release
Who's guessing where my art's headed?
with blotches not a single piece shredded
the real art's kept displayed in the mind
that's why Banksy's blotches are one of a kind
Aug 3, 2020
Aug 3, 2020 at 12:43 AM UTC
sky, blue sky blue market and deliver
a fantastic game of boat and swimming pool.
Germany, Germany, Germany, Germany,
Germany (1) 1 1 2 3 4 5 Next 1 ... 12 ... 345 ...
12 345 0 Next Education All rights reserved.
All Rights Reserved. Germany, Germany,
Germany, Germany, Germany, Germany, Germany
and Germany. Red and Infrared
Mark 0 Germany, Germany 1 1 1 Lego:
United States, Canada, Australia, Japan, Germany,
Spain, Brazil, Switzerland and more. All Rights
Reserved. Just click on the stars for a few minutes.
Sky Sky Sky 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0
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Government is a joint venture with China. Germany,
Germany and Germany (0) (0) (0) Canada, Australia,
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All rights reserved. General: Send a few minutes
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Alt (0) (0) (0) (0) Germany Germany. 1 1 1 1 RE.
Famous friends and friends from Great Britain,
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A wagon sack, pasta, hot water Llyn, but not good
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Jan 26, 2019
Jan 26, 2019 at 7:48 AM UTC
In the hand of the Baptist by Raphael himself
The Christ child is reaching and touching your head
the blood of salvation is etched out in red
Chained by Fabritius and haunting The Hague
Trained to do tricks in the Dutch golden age
And gold marks your clipped wings
Hardy wrote of you, of tortures endured
In boxes of darkness you never deserved
And your cry is of freedom, your pure voice to soar
On thistle you feast, and your trills fill the air
Charms of you flocking, my autumn tree bare
Anointed as robins, the golden finch sings.
17.12.18 JG
Dec 19, 2018
Dec 19, 2018 at 3:44 PM UTC