"juggernauts" poems
I ain’t got no intimate, ain’t got no stiletto heels
Ain’t got no Lsd, ain’t got no smack
Ain’t got no partners, ain’t got no drill
Ain’t got no slapstick, ain’t got no hanky—panky
Ain’t got no Lsd, no slot to mount
Ain’t got no castrato, ain’t got no crumpet
Ain’t got no conjoined twins, ain’t got no nuns or eunuchs
Ain’t got no whipcord, ain’t got no adoration
Ain’t got no ******** ain’t got no stimulant
Ain’t got no ******
Ain’t got no oscillation, no shags
No uniform, no parts
No smack, no drill
No partners, no peccadillo
Ain’t got no stimulant
Ain’t got no whipcord, no propagators
No titbits, no intimate
I jabbered, I ain’t got no uniform, no hanky—panky
No peccadillo, ain’t copulated till one is blue in the face to have a funny feeling
And I ain’t got no ******
Oh, but what have I copulated, oh, what have I copulated
Let me tell what I copulated and nobody’s going to enlarge telescopic
I got my ***** on my face
My extra—sensory perceptions, my knobs
My ****** peckers and my ********
I got my stuck—out tongue
I got my tentacle, my proboscis
My ***** my *******
My thingummies, my cockles of the heart and my posterior
I got my ***********
I got my thingummies, my talons
My ball and socket joints, my forelegs
My hooves, my pincers and my snorker
Got my crest
I got ***** I’ve inseminated cheerleaders
I’ve got bottomgremlins and hacksawhoodoo
And Mephistophelian juggernauts too like you
I got my ***** my pistil
My ESP, my knobs
My vaginas, my peckers and my ********
I got my stuck-out tongue
I got my tentacle, my proboscis
My ***** and my *******
My ***** my ***** and my posterior
I inseminated my ****** sorbet
I got my thingummies, my talons
My ball and socket joints, my forelegs
My hooves, my pincers and my snorker
Got my crest
I got my ***** I got my slipperiness, my *****
I got *****
Mar 23, 2010
Mar 23, 2010 at 4:29 PM UTC
Lungs filled up
with
questions questions questions.
Like in the pool as a child,
How long can you hold your breath?
Held under,
Burning pushing screaming
You've got to hold your breath.
The fraction left not choked out
by the uncertainties of the future
is weak, fatigued, and plagued by
doubt.
Minuscule trivialities become juggernauts
crushing the remains of structure.
When will I reach the surface?
What do I have left?
When can I breathe again?
Jul 7, 2011
Jul 7, 2011 at 9:04 PM UTC
*this poem didn't come easy. written amidst buffeting emo's, V will not be natural flow, probably flawed. You, self-chosen people, will come along, please, to see the process, and the proceeds too.
But as usual, the poem was write before me, needing only human kindness overflowing to guide the way.*
V
V words lord, excluding all others,
phonetic juggernauts,
never met a V word
that had no personality.
victory is the one word that
my/our brains
think of first.
sure there is vortex, victuals, veer
and valor exam,
the latter,
what ever it means is a gift,
curtsy-courtesy of auto-incorrect.
but it is victory
on top,
victorious in its own way.
try it on another if you must...
what is the word that starts with a V
that first comes to mind?*
so let us talk of victories.
so oft, I write in the dark,
even as I do now.
came home soul weary,
face worn-worry,
gotta go out to meet
Peter Bogdanovich later,
to chat about his latest movie.
woman looks me over.
X-ray glance,
an MRI of my heart,
no deductible charged,
but oh yes, a co-pay due, indeed!
Peter will keep,
tonight you're-mine,
to bed I send,
right after we consume
Large Thin Mush,
cause pizza with shrooms contains
mood serotonins,
that erase the
"pain of the day"
that be a victory nonpareil.
a Waterloo, a Normandy landing,
that be a victory where
both sides hug and kiss,
and make with their long,
stubby Churchillian fingers,
V's all night long
with goofy grins,
cigars and bowler hats,
just to go along.
so here I am in the dark,
having been "put" to bed,
one mo' time,
slicing and dicing letters
into a word-salade,
instead of resting.
dreaming of the day
when I can no longer need to
pretend to be a Seuss, but truly,
can be writing poems for all my
children~friends.
one for each letter
of the alphabet,
teaching us to write
upon our faces
laugh lines thin and fine,
mine, ours, yours.
product of pizza poems,
some that come not circular,
but tonite shaped
just like a woman,
just like a
V.
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 8:34 PM UTC
Ivory towers like third appendages flipping of the sky. Profane.
Rivers run cris-cross beetles in the bog.Traffic logjam.
Instant grats. Gratis time bomb ticking.
Age is an obstruction. mindless pursuits of Material security blankets.
Thumb suckers rule. Knuckleheads telling tales out of school. Glass house myopia.
A cornucopia a chorus of jabbernows. Verbal diarrhea on wax. passes for reason.
Sin-taxes pay the way
Syntax gone astray. What the @**# did she just say ?
Novocaine mainlined. Numb all over talking heads on the hill.
Need a few meg-volts to jolt flat-lined hearts to do the people's will.
War is raging, storms are raging. Quiet storms.
Oil. Fuels from long dead fossils. Habit handcuffs.
Cant get enough. Lites out soon.
Powers that be.
Juggernauts...Battlebots... Taking giant steps backwards.
Chaos is local until in your locality.Doomsayer.
The Giant slayer kneels to place his head in the guillotine. Appease the ruthless.
Know it when you feel it. Babylon is falling.
Oct 14, 2013
Oct 14, 2013 at 10:20 AM UTC
Thoughts ought to travel softly along thread thin nerves ending in action,
Juggernaut plots, to get me up and out of my stagnant pool of tears and traction,
Who is the Juggernaut, you ask?
That is my task to get behind the mask and lure it out of the shadows,
What person or presence is the task master who'll push me to the gallows
Of defeat. The slow heavy feet, older than the body, the owner of the ugly toes
I am not ready,
I am too young,
My hand is not steady,
I am too high strung,
Looking behind the mask, and into the darkness, the more I look the more I run out of time,
Hands spinning wildly as the Juggernaut defends both the End of and the Beginning of,
Another Year,
Yes it is the Time of the Juggernaut, Happy New Year, relentless promise cupped in two hands,
don't let it slip, from your palms and through your fingers,
a harbinger or bright and shiny hope bringer?
You decide,
It is your year,
Now I must go and slay my Juggernaut, cuz' it is a draggin' me down in flames,
Remember if you feed yours instead of fight, you just might be the taste that
wets your juggernauts' appetite. I have heard...
it stops hurting after the first bite.
©DWE122013
Dec 28, 2013
Dec 28, 2013 at 2:03 AM UTC
On the planet where I live
gambling and narcissism
are recognized for the diseases they are
racism and homophobia
that's just people being people
Here
having a conversation with some is battle
mental exhibition bouts with jaw juggernauts
most only listen for their position to pounce
Never hearing a thing
favors and helping hands
well laid traps and plans sewing deeply rooted weeds
intended to bind over time
your worth is assessed by how much value you can acquire for other
animals are measured greater than people
it makes sense
People have yet to meet or even be human
Here
I'm not the type of Blackman you see on TV
six feet tall maybe taller over three hundred pounds
a well-read autodidact master of many things
On the planet where I live
that is considered a threat
Here
the goal is to populate Mars
before the pollution on Earth becomes inhospitable
to the people of Earth
after all
Mars is ours for the taking
Here
you're supposed to mow your neighbor's lawn
while your back yard is overgrown
while your kitchen burns down
On the planet where I live
all of this is common knowledge
some say sense
It's spoken of and considered
immoral and deplorable
Here
if you exist in any different or other way
you're labeled
one of the crazies and shunned
you’re supposed to know its wrong
not admit to it
© Christopher F. Brown 2015
Aug 4, 2015
Aug 4, 2015 at 5:42 PM UTC
sing out loud
Poseidon
hold up your trident
juggernauts request to sail
through
your
white cliffs
but
jagged waters
where
we
entered
Poseidon's Gateway
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 10:20 AM UTC
Adding apologies to artillery shells does not amend the action,
And
My brokenness betrays me when it bellows that I have beaten bruises black and blue into your back
But
Crying is a catharsis much too commonplace to convey these casualties.
My doubtful disposition has denied you deliverance from your daring endeavors
Because
Emptying myself to entertain someone else's enormous sense of entitlement
Is
A feeling that frightens my already fragile sense of forwardness.
Glory from a god who glances generously upon us growling ghosts
Is
A Heaven that hurts like hell because happiness is heresy
But
Isolation is an independence I never intended to introduce here.
Juggling jokes and jealousy between juggernauts is jeopardizing my judgement
Because
Kindness is to knowing the truth as kissing is to your knuckles,
It's
Like living life as a lamb but loving a lion.
Missiles gone missing are making me misunderstand my own memory
Yet
Needles have never seemed so necessary as when you're near,
And
Ownership is not an option so we have both become orphans.
Praying to people seems more plausible than pleasing a perfect being
So
I will quantify rather than qualify the quaintness of this quarantine
And
Respectfully reply that paying retribution to a ***** is ridiculous.
Soon something will surface that sends shivers down your spine
But
Today there is only turmoil taking its time to taper off
So
Understand when I utter the word "unify" that I mean us.
Vain and vindictive as you have very well verified being,
If
We worship with what we wish, not what we will,
Our
Exploitation will exemplify an axis on which oxymoron is expedient.
You and your yearning will not yield to yonder threats,
Because
The zeal of this zephyr will carry us to the zenith.
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 6:03 PM UTC
Hotdogs, Mustard and Omelettes please
Yellow cabs, jay walking down Florida Quays
Four lanes, Juggernauts and Chevrolet cars
Lights,cameras and Hollywood stars
Palm trees, beaches and Hawaiian shirts
Gucci, Versace and loathsome old flirts
Fields, harvesters and barns full of hay
Buildings, boxes in lifeless decay
Piers, amusements and huge crashing waves
Soup kitchens, The Mission and a life it could save
Islands, storms and the hot lazy sun
Big Apple, Windy City, Graceland’s is fun
Sirens, Hydrants and never ending noise
Planes, Aliens and conspiracy driven ploys
History, Presidents wrapped up in Sams hat
Shrine, Humility where two towers once sat
Arizona, the desert, dry and ongoing
Vultures, Eagles and freeways never slowing
May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 6:16 PM UTC
we thought that we were juggernauts
astronauts
thoughts we all believed in
when we believed the head of the pin was the ballroom
there was no room for manoeuvre
and then they blew you
away.
Black specs or black ops
madmen or the cops
one and the same.
we thought we were the biz
the wiz'
we were not even the ***
any one anyway
this wasn't blue ray
just
pay per view
cheap enough for me
and cheap for you too.
and we thought we
were
juggernauts.
Apr 13, 2017
Apr 13, 2017 at 4:19 PM UTC