"huzzah" poems
We are the genuine men
We are the fulfilled men
Standing together
Headpiece filled with ideas. Huzzah!
Our powerful voices, when
We cheer together
Are loud and meaningful
As wind in wet grass
Or dancing feet over wooden floors
In our damp attics
Shape with form, shade with colour,
Dynamic force, motion without gesture;
Those who have crossed
With indirect eyes, to death’s other Kingdom
Forget us—if at all—not as found
Peaceful souls, but only
As the genuine men
The fulfilled men.
Eyes I dare meet in nightmares
In death’s dream kingdom
These do appear:
There, the eyes are
Sunlight on a whole column
There, is a tree standing
And voices are
In the wind’s singing
More close and more bashful
Than a newly formed star.
Let me be closer
In death’s dream kingdom
Let me not wear
Such obvious disguises
Silk shirt, snakeskin, crossed staves
In a field
Behaving as the wind behaves
Closer—
That first meeting
In the twilight kingdom
This is the living land
This is fruitful land
Here the cloudy images
Are raised, here they receive
The supplication of a living man’s hand
Under the twinkle of a newly formed star.
It is like this
In death’s other kingdom
Waking together
At the minute when we are
Shaking with excitement
Lips that would kiss
Form praise to no stone.
The eyes are here
There are eyes here
In this valley of living stars
In this flowing valley
This whole jaw of our lost kingdoms
In this first of meeting places
We ***** alone
And invite speech
Gathered on this beach of the free river
Vision, unless
The eyes disappear
As the periodic star
Monofoliate daisy
Of death’s twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of whole men.
*Here we go round the mulberry bush
Mulberry bush mulberry bush
Here we go round the mulberry bush
At five o’clock in the morning.*
Between the thought
And the implementation
Between the movement
And the deed
Rises the Light
For Thine is the Kingdom
Between the inception
And the construction
Between the feeling
And the reaction
Rises the Light
Life is very short
Between the need
And the want
Between the potential
And the substance
Between the ingredients
And the ascent
Rises the Light
For Thine is the Kingdom
For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the
This is the way the world begins
This is the way the world begins
This is the way the world begins
Not with a whimper but a bang.
Nov 11, 2012
Nov 11, 2012 at 2:34 PM UTC
The Quantum Poetry Theorem
from a long time ago,
a thousand poems a priori.
**Dedicated to you, Albert Einstein and the cast of TBBT, special thanks to the OWS movement.,
But especially to the few, the brave, geeks who write poetry in word and in equations.**
Scruffy, yet ennobled,
my own 99% invade and
occupy all my senses,
in my eyesight encamped
sensing opportunity,
the 99 demand
that each shutter eye snap,
all nominal exhalations,
every quantum minutia perception,
be live streamed,
direct tv to you
Everything I witness,
transformed into an
acoustic guitar rocking vision,
a levitation of poetic expression,
set to a primitive three-chord
rock & roll overture,
and my iPad,
appointed Recording Secretary,
compiles exhalations as ecrivations
a preservation society of the verb,
strings of words emanating non-stop
within my head, from a guitar playing
twenty four seven, ironically,
expressed mathematically
Street strolling,
busy brasserie bar,
a Pinot Noir arrives,
a large pour of
stanzas and a
napkin upon to scribble
mind in ferment but
A Capella smooth cool,
my bossy brain requires
incident reports,
a "write me down, please,"
and
no matter how much I drink,
ain't anti-matter enough to
stop my eyes from seeing
every human interaction
as a poetic, probabilistic,
verbal equation,
quantum expressions of sensory upload
The brain revels and reels from overload,
no mas, no more,
poetry fatigue incurable,
caplets and ointments,
string theory,
can't cure or explain
the compulsion I feel,
and the 1% of me
protests my
overtaxed mental capacity,
and
hear the, see the, masses,
the shouts, the placards,
outside my home,
shut it down, no one cares,
no one wants your transplanted mechanics
in their eardrums
Huzzah, found in my gut,
a Grand Unifying Theory
to coordinate, gauge and harmonize
my internal asymmetries,
yes, a coupling factor required,
but still,
one equation that explains everything!
my fatigued, pointy, index finger
refuses to tap any more,
my Theory of Everything,
and my poetry, forgot, overlooked.
in my library buried,
black holed, forever silence-stored
Sep 8, 2013
Sep 8, 2013 at 3:48 PM UTC
cathode
box frog. lung dead
in a deep heap of old suns
simply the rival of Hate's hate... a mute huzzah !
the treacherous velvet
of a dead sleep
masquerading as a chance in dyslexia......
Oct 27, 2012
Oct 27, 2012 at 12:23 PM UTC
You are trapped in the world.
Your vision is our vision.
You are trapped in what breathes.
.
is the meaning of our meaning.
The answer to the question is
yourself.
You are the Answer to everything.
(Everything does not matter.)
Meaning is Itself.
This is a display to amuse Itself.
Meaning is meaning.
And there is no meaning
except That which Means.
There is no "is".
"Is" is ************
Huzzah!
You are meaning,
meaning: *Be.
Or stop.*
We're all blowing wind
until we stop.
Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 7:52 PM UTC
roll up! roll up!!
you fine hearted boy.
time now to put down,
the store made toys.
time to make magic...
with the inside,
of your mind
roll up! roll up!!
to the dream circus
let's see what we find....
melamine monkeys
mimic monstrousity's
mangling, minor majorities
in musical mayhem
symphonies, sublime
playing mozart in part on
a shiny yellow kazooo
meanwhile marshmallow
crocodiles smile with
mincing beguile
at ****** moo cows
meandering miles
in crooked zig-zag lines
making milkshakes
all the while...
mouses and mices
are avoiding becoming
itty bitty pieces of
rodent and crabapple pie
by milling mindlessly
around the mound
of milliners, by the by.
now to
meet and greet at the
zoo
mrs hippopotomus
has ginger biscuits and
mango milk ready for you
while you watch the fleet of zebras and their plataypi crew,
sail in the xebec regatta
twice around the isle of goo.
before saying
huzzah and hooroo
they won the championship
whoohoo!!!!
it's all a happenin,
at the bing **** bingle zoo
but for all these
amazing thing to occur
my lad
you have to pay your dues
so close your eyes,
and sleep .....
and you will see
a wonderful dream or two....
Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 4:32 PM UTC
night has passed
clanking and exhaling,
small talks of large projects, conundrums;
oak wood canines roam in bliss
new found love found lager
new found lover found a big stomach in the morning
and a smile on his face, not penetrating his soul.
deep and shallow, bodies of water dig going with the flow.
perhaps a bowl of cereal is in the general direction we're floating,
huzzah, brumah, and lack-lack.
May 11, 2013
May 11, 2013 at 9:37 AM UTC
Straight shot of Holy water to exorcise my demons
Got'em out on a couple legs, begs by ****** screamins
With the All Holy Trinity I walk amongst infinity
Got a Cadre of Archangels showerin' me in His Divinity
Brought a fifth of Anointing Oil to mark His Holy Royals
Seeing through the mixed lens of His sixth sense
Burnin' incense to mark the Menorah branch that toils
Ate up the Holy Communion remember that Holy Union
At the Ninth hour His might & power did devour Light
Too dark, the tent of heaven tore, bore mark of blight
Judas seeing that hell'll vent, went hellbent on death's reunion
They dwell of Herod taking head of prophecy; Maker's cousin
He called Saul as Paul to make all apostle's, baker's dozen
Diss and spit cause of His name, John 7:7 in the pulpit
This ain't tryin' to be flame or 15 minute fame ****
At 16 I knew I'd live eternal by His Throne, sit
May 28, 2016
May 28, 2016 at 3:30 PM UTC
these are the thoughts
of Clive,
the neighborhood curmudgeon...
how do i know this,
i am the imp that put them here....
in the garden, you folks
call a brain......
*take this, sodding life
and it's meaningless struggle.
i set my face to this wall
and brick myself self in
to this useless stall.
the old man, Clive,
grumbled with a,
set and sour grin.
you...you're all pathetic,
thinking you can win.
death's the only victor...
over us, one
and sodding all.
and you can take,
your sodding...
flowers and cards
and sodding, casseroles too!!
there was,
one ray of sunshine
in my life
and now she is gone.
and she is not,
sodding around in another room,
or waiting for me up there.
she is not, in greener pastures
cause she was never..
an effin cow.
she is,
six footdown,
underground,
in a cheap wooden box,
making fodder,
for worms and beetles.
slowly, they are,
breakin her down.
and it will not be,
sodding fine
and time will not heal...
a heart smashed to smithereens.
a life torn asunder
**** me it's time,
for you pathetic
do-gooders...
to get ****** real....
no i am not,
a happy man,
and yes i am,
greiving the greatest loss.
and a ****** sausage
and bean casserole,
is not going to be,
making me believe,
that the world,
is a fair and just place...
don't you, worry about me.
i reckon i'll soon be,
leaving, my home
and my goods and chattels
and be recieving last rites,
farewells and a deep,dirt bed.
and that will be,
fine and dandy,
as long as it is,
close and handy,
to my beloved, Mandy.
what?
you're worried...
about my,
state of mind...
will ya, just sod off,
haven't i
made myself clear,
i am way, too busy dying,
to pay you any attention...*
this garden just going gangbuster
hey¡¡yah huzzah!!!
Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 7:33 AM UTC
Hooray Hooray!
The day has finally come
I have been waiting so long for this day to come
And now its finally here
I want to drink a bier
But not just yet
Not until i get my television set
Huzzah Huzzah
Today is the day
Yes the day has come
Im finally thirteen
Im finally a teen
happy birthday to me!!!
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 9:32 PM UTC
It was just on the stroke of midnight,
I was going to go to bed,
But I had to pass by Charlie’s room
So I hung back there, instead,
I could hear the rattle of drums that came
From under his bedroom door,
And then the sound of a French ‘Huzzah!’
From a Napoleonic war.
I thought, ‘He’s at it again, he’s got
The Frenchies marching east,
He’s going to Borodino, where
He’s got a chance, at least,
He’s leading the French Grand Armée
As Napoleon did before,
But I couldn’t get in to stop him, as
He’d locked his bedroom door.
I shook my head and I went to bed,
There was no point hanging round,
For Charlie, he’d be up all night
‘Til the Armée went to ground,
By dawn he’d have them dragging back
From the Russian ice and snow,
And wouldn’t be fit to go to school
‘Til he’d had a sleep, you know.
He wasn’t a kid like other kids
He wouldn’t play with a phone,
He didn’t get into computer games
But he spent his time alone.
He didn’t make friends so easily
For he never went out to play,
But stuck his head in a history book
And would read and read all day.
They said he must have been gifted in
Some strange, abnormal way,
He used his imagination for
The games he wanted to play,
His mind reached back to another time
Where the personae were dead,
And brought them back for a second chance
On the counterpane of his bed.
I caught a glimpse of the action once
In a crack through his bedroom door,
A galleon moored in a harbour by
An armed Conquistador,
He saw me there and he slammed the door
And he said, ‘Don’t interfere!
I’m trying to raise the English Fleet
And I can’t if you’re standing there!’
His mother took him to town one day
To see a psychologist,
Who said, ‘He lives in a world of his own,
I think he’s really blessed.
We all grow out of our childish ways
And I think he’ll be the same.’
He thought it was all in Charlie’s head
‘Til the day that ‘Little Boy’ came.
He’d read and read of the second war
For a month until that day,
When I heard the aircraft engines I
Just knew, the ‘Enola Gay’,
I beat and beat upon Charlie’s door,
Broke out in a cold, cold sweat,
But the plane took off, and I grabbed the wife
And we’d still be running yet.
We were out in the road when the roof blew off
With a mighty blast and roar,
And the mushroom cloud was curling up
While we lay, flat out on the floor,
Charlie had gone from our lives for good
With his gift, and his bag of tricks,
Hard to believe that he had the power,
For Charlie was only six!
David Lewis Paget
Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 11:46 AM UTC
Rickrack, got cataracts
My vision is so blurry.
Surgery done, not much fun
I wish healing would hurry.
Zip zop, roota zoot.
Hate backless hospital suits!
Clap clap, standing ovation.
For a successful operation.
Wave pompoms, ziss boom bah
For magic modern medicine
In just one day, as they say.
The right eye is all fixed again.
Go back in a few weeks
And have the left one done.
Huzzah hurrah and yippee kai yay
And the healing has begun.
Colors I never noticed before
Are now bright and shiny.
If I had known that before I
Woulda been petulant and whiny.
But, nothing noticed, nothing lost
I am looking forward to the day
When I can see completely better.
Harroo and blinking hurray!
Mar 14, 2018
Mar 14, 2018 at 11:35 PM UTC
KnobNess
By Finnius Dilkington
KnobNess is upon us
Altho my KnobNess is not nu
been working on my KnobNess for some time now
37 years & a few
My KnobNess is incomplete.
Incompetent
untrue
I am certain I have more KnobNess
More KnobNess
more than you
At times you'll see my KnobNess
At the luncheon table and such
I'll tell a joke & mess about
You'll laugh out of politeness
And
"not very much"
My KnobNess is like a steaming plastic packet
fresh ripped from the Microwave
a packet Inside a black plastic bag,
un clean and un true
Here's the the thing that thing I do
Make an insulting racket; Hussle,
Huzzah and harangue too
is my technique
is nothing new
KnobNess in my acting actions
Like the malevolent Sir Richard Chamberlain
fancy in some vile and delinquent role
Dolled up, ****** arresting
With grasping grabbing
Needful hands.
"Yon knobNess is thus"
"And thus"
(wrists bent)
And the dark black circles about his actors eyes
create no illusion
I remain at the centre of my KnobNess
Assured in my self believing belief
frequent feeling of my own genitals Is
no more,
no less
than any others.
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 9:54 PM UTC
Unity.
Hands, rings, fingers
Smelly perfume and the swishes of gowns
That take us back
To a time period without pain
Caused by one another's insufferability....
Today is my day,
Ours,
And with a final
Huzzah
And a final
Amen
We will all become
One
May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 6:54 AM UTC
I thought I'd found it
Found you
Found the one.
You fit me
Completed me
Like the moon and the sun.
But you wanted more
Wasn't content
Couldn't be satisfied.
And I hated that
Hated you
And your useless lies.
See, we could have ruled the world
I made a spot in my plan for you
I could have had one of everything
You could have had it too.
Doll, I never quite wanted to break someone
As much as I wanted to put them together
And, no, you didn't manage to hurt me
But you've got me more than bitter.
I wasn't good enough
But here's one last huzzah; we tried
Because you don't get what you did
But here's one last hurrah and goodbye.
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 7:48 PM UTC
i want to talk with someone
but i don't know how to say it
i want to talk just talk
not about specific life events or what i ate for dinner last night
please don't ask me about my family or my academics
ask me why my replies get short when you ask me how i am
tell me more than
well i'm glad you're still breathing
when that's my response to your short question
i know
that i can twist my words into appearing positive even when they're not
i know that my sarcasm doesn't always transcend beyond the computer's algorithms
i know that you don't know how to mitigate my suffering
and that's fine
really
it is
so we'll talk about you and your great life adventures
even though right now
i want to talk about the poem i just read by andrea gibson
i want to talk about my writing professor and her brilliant mind and how i've never been more motivated to get to class just so i could sit there and take in the simple grandeur
i want to talk about the night sky and i know it's overrated woohoo the stars and moon huzzah for the earth's night light but have you ever noticed
how when you stand out in the middle of the road at 2 am in the morning,
the world down here is silent and flat but up there, the galaxies stretch and bend beyond the eye can see, the stars are all placed so perfectly
hapharzardly scattered about but in the right places
sometimes they're so dim, you know?
i will never stop aweing over the miracle of the sky nor will i ever not stand in the middle of the road at 2 am in the morning on a rough night just to be reminded of the beauty that's still there within each and every one of us even though sometimes we can't see it
i want to talk about the dream i had last night
and the night before that and how i am scared to fall asleep because my mind is a ******* complex and ***** thing that can thread unimaginable hypotheticals through something that was supposed to be peaceful
i don't want to sleep
i want to talk
i want to talk with someone
because i'm tired of talking to myself
-
-rgp
May 1, 2017
May 1, 2017 at 3:31 AM UTC
'free butlers for everybody'
yippee!! hooray!! huzzah!!
i would so love,
somebody to follow me
around all day.
doing the mudane and
boring things,
all that daily guff.
to be at my beck and call,
for just about anything at all.
but then,
if there are 'free butlers for all'
would my, butler,
not have a bulter, of his own
to order about from,
his butler throne
and so on and so forth
and if we all had butlers.
would anything, ever,
really get done?
OR, would we all be,
passing ***** laundry
about in a neverending,
linen chain.
drinking tepid tea from each others ***** tea cups.
polishing silver for some one other than us ...
would i end up,
being a bulter to you.
my god!
this, idea of
'free butlers for every one.'
is spiralling, out of control
this factotumnal conudrum,
is going to drive me insane.
JEEVES ! please, please be so good
as, to bring me a calming tisane.
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 7:18 PM UTC
You turned out to be real "cute," sure,
I'm the one who's need of love is impure,
I'd like to tell you how I feel
Before this banquet becomes my last meal.
Huzzah! I'm past the point of no return,
Only space is left in for our concern,
You could care less what I think it's my eyes
That wait on your every word until I can blink,
Don't forget that pain you put into me!
All you said was *"don't come over, don't bother,
No I don't want to see you or hear from you again,
I've already got a "perfect" boyfriend till the end.*
Many forms of pain they come and go, you know,
But that pain it follows me wherever I may come or go.
Until the end of time...forever after...into tomorrows of tomorrow,
I feel nothing but hurt, loss, despair and endless sorrow...
Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 8:25 PM UTC
hurrah, hurrah!
cue to cheers!
for the long writing program
has ended.
quite a journey it
has been!
spilling out words
squinting at pages
and conquering the
flame breathing dragon
in the very end.
so hurrah, hurrah
huzzah, huzzah,
it's over!
Dec 5, 2016
Dec 5, 2016 at 9:56 PM UTC
Speaking gibberish and tongue twisters huzzah! Peter picked a something. Look there comes a pink dog, no wait it is a cat. Words have no meaning then they mean something else. Language is confusing, what was I saying. Never mind, I think I will move on to something else. Emotions get tangled with gum in my hair. I don't know whether to cry or scream. Nothing goes right, just look at Picasso's blue period. How depressing can you get. Just cut off an ear why don't you. In all things be vigilant and clean up your room. What is the point of life, I am not sure but I think it is ice cream.
Dec 17, 2015
Dec 17, 2015 at 9:54 PM UTC