"officiate" poems
a september bride her hollow sounds
fearfully echo on the leaf strewn trail
with intonations of a blushing bride to be
she makes a graceful vision
obscured only by her hamfisted collection
of undesirable father figures
who stand round the groom and brow beat
him with dire dreams
but his eyes are for her alone and
the tigers of her sensual rainforest
"lions, tigers and bears...oh my!" she whispers
into his eager ear with a sardonic grin
her hollow sounds both haunting and beautiful
they will stay with me as a soulsong
long after history has devoured her
namesake and words
a quick poet of the three line shoot from the hip haiku
pink glossy eyes all damp with remembered tears
she is the quintessential september bride
the long summer nights swayed her
the longer cold winter may undo her
but it is a girlhood dream that
she knits with papier-mâché knights and
bubblegum queens
she waits for me there
to officiate the proceedings
with a bottle of red wine and single red rose
wrapped in the tender notions of
loves sweetest kiss
Aug 25, 2014
Aug 25, 2014 at 4:55 PM UTC
Can you spot those wild zebras,
trotting across noisy plains of green?
Can you spy them with binoculars,
huddling together in familiar scenes?
Can you observe these wild zebras,
emblazoned with their traditional stripes?
Can you recognize distinctive patterns
of opposing colors of black and white?
Can you form an opinion regarding
the thoughts of wild zebras at play?
Can any semblance of ‘Fashion Sense’
force a duality of stripes to rule the day?
Can you number the size of the herd
or even call out specific zebras by name?
See their necks encircled by dangling whistles,
as they continue… to officiate the football game.
-Joe Breunig,
Poet/Author, Reaching Towards His Unbounded Glory
Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 2:32 PM UTC
Can you spot those wild zebras,
trotting across noisy plains of green?
Can you spy them with binoculars,
huddling together in familiar scenes?
Can you observe these wild zebras,
emblazoned with their traditional stripes?
Can you recognize distinctive patterns
of opposing colors of black and white?
Can you form an opinion regarding
the thoughts of wild zebras at play?
Can any semblance of ‘Fashion Sense’
force a duality of stripes to rule the day?
Can you number the size of the herd
or even call out specific zebras by name?
See their necks encircled by dangling whistles,
as they continue… to officiate the football game.
-Joe Breunig,
Poet/Author, Reaching Towards His Unbounded Glory
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2013, All rights reserved.
Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 10:38 AM UTC
.
The more I think, and reflect about life, the more it strikes how little we need to survive.
.
But then the question of my life itself baffles me still.
In the name of
Cups and Wands
and Swords and Pentacles.
How does one figure out
how one wants to ease into the world—
in what manner
what face
what costume
what identity
shall we assume
in this theatrical muse of mass-scale rehabilitation.
Searching,
for the right attire
in a tolerable personality.
To eventualize, to officiate, to become
A masterpiece—
by the hands of time
and the wheels of fortune.
So that we may be made worthy
Maybe, if you were dealt with luck.
Fortune's Fool—
How do we know which
is the correct way to go
sᴉ ǝɥʇ ʇɔǝɹɹoɔ ʎɐʍ oʇ oɓ·
in hindsight.
To hunt for a halo in the robes of glee
while you dwindle in time
Abject, at sea.
Cut the chase.
Bleed. Heal.
Await the haemorhage and its evanescence.
And when you approach the Great Finale,
Be free.
.
At any moment of time, we have one foot in the abyss while the other lapses into ecstasy.
.
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 3:17 PM UTC
This is one American that drops beats, not bombs
This is one American that admits when she’s wrong.
But an ocean doesn’t divide us
Only you divide us
With your words for labels that say what’s you, not me
Your stereotypes are gunna be the death of me
You’re killing me with these close-minded philosophies
And Who the hell ever said you were the referee of me?
We gotta spend less time sneering and swearing
We gotta spend less time jeering and tearing
You should never have to defend when you love
You should never have to defend why you love
You should never have to defend who you love
We are all created equal;
That’s the condition of the receiver
And we are all the receivers
But some keep spewing that hate; those hate-believers
But we don’t accept their judgment upon us
We gotta rise up out of adversity placed on us
Some out there will go to their graves justifying
Committing acts based on fear is nothing but mortifying
And I’m gunna be truthful; I’m not even lying
When your preach your ******** the human race is dying.
You see United this house stands strong
Every new hand we hold pushes us along
Every brick makes us higher
Acceptance makes us flyer
Gotta keep hate out of your heart
And maybe then we’ll get to start
To come together
To love one another
And to be free like it is intended
Maybe then the human race will be mended
Maybe then this bad movie will get a better sequel
Maybe then we’ll realize We are all created equal.
I want to stop it all
To go into a free-for-all
To rip those signs apart
To take that hate from that heart
All I can do is spread the word on love
And hope to God that will be enough
All I can do is be me and let you be you
All I can do is all I can do
But together we can appreciate
That all together we can officiate
Love that knows no bounds
That type of harmony with unreal sounds.
We may measure success by what’s published
We may measure it by what’s re-said
By how much money we make
By the course that we take
But one thing I know that will bring us deliverance
All that matters is that one voice that says
You make a ******* difference.
Apr 20, 2013
Apr 20, 2013 at 5:45 PM UTC
I have a vision and a goal
In my heart and mind,
Of a new and a great awakening;
And where the thirsty volcanoes
Shall cry our loud for blood;
And where the mountains
Shall lie flat on their faces;
And where the wise aunt
Shall rule over the jungle in wisdom;
And where the wild bamboo
Shall provide edible fruits for mankind;
And where the dark moon
Shall rule over the lights and day;
And where both the South and the West wind
Shall hold their peace indefinitely;
And where realities in nature
Shall live without principles;
And where the ****** sea
Shall boil in an unquenchable rage,
Seeking vengeance on the wicked enemy;
And where the sky shall turn red and
Shall war against the flaming earth,
Nevertheless, in all these
There shall be a mental re-birth,
We shall excel in progress and in pride,
We shall officiate our own destiny,
We shall discover our mental capabilities,
Which is the road to our common destiny.
II
Yes, I have a vision and a goal
Still in my heart and mind
Of a new and a better life,
In which all men, women and children
Of goodwill and a passion for excellence
Might be able to express themselves freely,
Without force, fear or favour,
And where life’s opportunities and times,
Might be open freely to all;
And where all mankind
Shall walk at liberty in solidarity;
And where equity and equality
Shall be our hallmark;
And where starvation, sorrow and suffering
That evil trio,
Shall be no more;
And where dedication, discipline and determination,
That just trio
Shall penetrate our souls and spirits;
And where a new start
With a just course,
Really might be possible to all,
Forgetting past failures and errors,
Nevertheless, in all these
We must let bygones be bygones
Where liberty and love is concerned,
Now is the hour of a fresh emancipation
With an honest and fair purpose.
© PRINCE NANA ANIN-AGYEI
Email: [email protected]
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 6:07 AM UTC
One soul to awaken
Two souls to make love
Three souls officiate a family
Five elements to keep in balance
Eight gateways to filter through
Thirteen to make it true
Twenty-one to set in stone
Thirty-four to seven the circuitry in I AM the will atones
Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 4:31 PM UTC
The year was nineteen forty six, the memories still raw,
Europe’s Jews were still encamped as they had been before.
True, they now had food to eat and decent clothes to wear,
But in that Displaced Persons camp, little else to spare.
When Lilly told her fiancé about her dream one night;
her standing beneath the chuppah in a flowing gown of white,
Ludwig promised Lilly that her vision would come true,
but in a displaced person’s camp that might be hard to do.
A former Luftwaffe pilot proved an angel in disguise;
Ludwig traded, for his parachute, some coffee and supplies.
Miriam, the seamstress, swore to do her best
to fashion the silk parachute into a wedding dress.
Some miles from Bergen Belsen lies the little town of Celle
Its desecrated synagogue would serve the couple well.
They made an Aron Kodesh from a kitchen cabinet
A Rabbi, flown from England, would officiate their fete.
Lilly’s gown was beautiful, the bride felt like a Queen
Within the battered synagogue, her wedding matched her dream.
Miriam’s creation would be worn by many more;
Girls from camp made brides in white that year after the war.
The Gown’s in a museum now, the bride now old and gray.
She lives nearby in Brooklyn in a house down by the bay.
Her lovely great granddaughter, her loving heart’s delight,
now has the dream of being wed in a gown of flowing white.
Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 10:46 AM UTC
Suddenly, I was a unicorn
With silver fur and eyes
My mane and tail bright blue
And of course, an ivory horn
Then, I was entrusted a duty
Of the greatest significance
I must officiate the wedding
Between twilight and sunset
Under cheering delighted stars
The lovers' carriage descended
With orchestral accompaniment
By the winds and the waters
A giant, fluffy purple puppy
Guided the wonderful brides
Towards my podium of petals
In this iridescent cathedral
Before this divine couple
I was so small, and so short
Yet, they are not intimidating
I felt bliss, and very blessed
With the help of a blue cloud
I gently crowned the goddesses
Deepest pride swelled within me
I proclaimed their eternal bond
Fireworks shimmered and sparkled
As they fed each other honey cake
Seeing them kissing passionately
Is truly the most touching scene
An elven queen suddenly kissed me
And now I am a shark-tailed merman
Getting ready for a new nuptials
Between adventure and mystery
Oct 11, 2021
Oct 11, 2021 at 6:31 AM UTC
Having embraced the calamity of advancement and mocked the simplicity of sporadic rodent behaviours, can we now cross into the alternate galaxy where ancient and accepted Scottish rites were birthed in an Ayrshire cottage of culinary festivity?
I am aware that it truly is a matter of taste. But who will officiate amongst us?
Your deep lamentation is acknowledged, amidst this order of ******* symbolism, despite those Northern and Southern hemispheres of demonic expression and convoluted discrepancy.
The percussion is a sign that the offal festival has begun.
Spiritual alchemy is not without its price on this winter night of dank precipitation.
Let us loiter in the depths of depraved chambers as the mist hangs her weary head over diurnal and nocturnal disagreements.
This is my first offering, so we must form a magic circle.
It feels like netherworld to me, on this twenty-fifth day of the first month.
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 11:02 PM UTC
flaming torches in scattered line held high
crowd shouted back behind a safety line
celebrants, ministers officiate in stripes
dressed darkly to intimidate memories of war
red suited stranger rides along devil's tails
splitting ****** for laffs and noise spitting
arc light ahead of spent charred bullet case
screams evoked. stifles laughter as the smoke
evokes the War in mud so here : sticks are rifles.
over amplified comes over as cod eulogy flashes
the ears while sincerity plays out the church gate
we stand flickering eyed
"Feed the World ..."
murders silence
saviours hurry
"Turn it off, Harry"
Peace after a slowed to halt drum
Torches squared parafin trickle
air with smokey wax and uncertain
light that makes black to meet
the dark
poppies burn by the church gate
plans broken into an atrocious
conflict of split fuses sputtering
orange stars into painted skulls
burning splints takes cordite's place
making the air like thick magasines
filled with dum-dum bullets. homages
to horror waiting for the drum .
march.
the parade moves starkly on
cowboys
then
pearls
and
Devils tail.
Oct 23, 2016
Oct 23, 2016 at 3:30 AM UTC
unbeknownst
to the human race,
every year the free trees,
those of the forest, the great gardens,
have an annual convocation, a solemn communion and a
delicate conversation
the gathering is attended by insects and avians,
for theirs is the heavy responsibility,
that which the trees cannot do,
they must do, i.e. move, be agents
of pollination
Trees gather, the sequoias officiate,
for they the elders, are wise in the
rings of history that tells of ritual,
sacred sayings, the reasoning,
the young ones don’t full comprehend
“Who shall give aid and comfort to the human dead?”
Who shall give of their seed
that will be carried by our friends,
they may be scattered planted,
in the graveyards where
those that tended and
sheltered us,
lie buried,
and the living
who tend to
their ancestral,
will adjoin, all
in need of shade and
comforting song?
there is great rustling of the wind,
the most honored,
query those attendees,
why must we choose?
let each of us contribute
according to their needs,
let the randomized
scattering by our winded
and flighted avian friends
best express our gratitude…
thus forests, parks, great gardens,
and yes, the cemeteries of mankind,
ALL
were seeded, deeded and refreshed,
and the world was cleansed,
commended, interdependented,
defended and extended…
Wed Aug 7 2024
Aug 7, 2024
Aug 7, 2024 at 10:48 AM UTC
Before you I longed to be noticed, never to think how closely.
Ripe and married in the eyes of the lord the daunting task to officiate our union felt anything but holy.
And just like the crisp of fall ends and the swift frost of winter enters the atmosphere, almost like a magic trick a part of me was purged.
Life a new as a wife and soon to be mother.
Self stripped of character, creating a fresh flesh slate-stone the record of my rebirth will be set in.
Tattered house dresses replacing the prized complimentary gowns.
Once being looked upon with passion and effervescence now casted glances of carnal lust and depreciation advanced towards me.
Self abnegation and nothing less, a ladies place.
Locker room talk and snickers laced with malice, “A ladies place?” Contradiction in that thought.
A ladies place is on the front lines, behind closed doors.
Tears over teenaged heartbreak wisk away into the air and settle now as young runny noses and dry whining eyes.
The name called up on you now only referring to the status provided.
A fathers daughter, a mans wife and a sons mother.
Nov 11, 2018
Nov 11, 2018 at 12:48 PM UTC
I dream in pink
I dream in comforting colors
I dream big and I dream hard
Trying to escape this world and depart
The pink I dream of is now on my dress,
with stitched white flowers I try to impress
On my birthday with a smile & stare
would I be happy with lungs devoid of air?
what if I decay and become one with the soil?
that should be enough to end my turmoil
Tearing me in half between life and death
Oh, little birds, I wish I was in your stead
I dream in black and, sometimes, in blue
it really just depends on my heart and its rue
for all the times I let it break apart and bruise
then patched it up, with some parts loose
I will blow a candle,
Officiate a new year
just like every time,
with a smile & a tear
For a year has passed,
And I’m still just as torn,
between wanting to be here
& wishing I was never born.
Apr 6, 2020
Apr 6, 2020 at 9:17 PM UTC
This averred title announced straight
away so lingering fans
(hoop fully letting me abbreviate)
a short cut so ye
can up and evacuate,
while metered time,
not yet foregone and not to late
hence best heed mine caution
which can protect minimum damage,
asper gray matter within pate
or blithely ignore
admonishment, aye accentuate
hmm...okay,...you apparently
decided to forsake adequate
prophecy, resigning despite
honest to dog admission to punctuate
a most unpleasant prediction,
I did woof lee aerate
worst case scenario,
leaving disabling genetic trait
to effect generations,
where legions of lesions adulterate
causing future offspring to mutate
and closely resemble
teenage mutant turtles, this potentate
(albeit self declared
only mein kampf, thee only life,
his existence he can arrogate
he doth officiate),
hence proceed at your own risk,
to avoid unpleasant fate,
visited upon unborn sons and daughters
uttering imprecations
unintelligible expletive laced spate,
that would approximate
(a cross between duck and pig)
incoherently gutturally excoriate
ting tee, thus don't tell me, I didn't
forewarn ya, whar
yar heart might palpitate,
thus causing da ole
ticker to fluctuate
dem eyes of yaws
could severely dilate,
while sweat gushes out every pore
streaming like liquid useless tube video,
a salty sea would then perspirate
out every last drop of fluid,
erupting magmatic plasma
to pool agglomerate
right under keister,
a lovely bag of bones
delivered to Norristown State
which inability to hydrate,
hence resultant mummification
heroic measures futile
thus humane decision would necessitate
and remaining days
on Earth numbered
starting with zero, not very great,
now this extinct reptile
hoop heed dead gratefully,
express message, and clearly articulate.
Mar 31, 2019
Mar 31, 2019 at 12:22 AM UTC
If royalty moost likely
spotlight ye would dodge
nonetheless anointed, deemed, granted...
within humble abode
of your lodge
most righteous, magnanimous, gracious...
among confrère noblesse oblige.
Methinks twas foolhardy of me
when joost a mere young man
(more'n half agoo me lifespan)
ye always acknowledging me birthdate,
(although tomorrow a day early,
and dollar long)
regarding thirteenth of Jan.
Your sisterly affection doth buoy
inside mine heart and soul
first born of three offspring
begat courtesy Boyce
and Harriet Harris handed lead role
par exemplar to officiate (figuratively)
filial obeisance, particularly
when older analogous to foal
abiding maternal horse sense, thus I extol.
As your brother, rhetorical question I ask
how often did thee deserve to bask
within metaphorical sunshine to exceed
regarding care and concern emotional task
tenderly "mothering" kith and kin,
ye divinely didst shew,
especially yours truly
now he dost rue
he rarely did communicate -
hermetically within his
hermetically sealed queue
detached, isolated, outsourced,
I may as well lived in Peru
(think Machu Picchu)
courtesy schizoid personality disorder
leavened, prepared, and sprinkled with
obsessive compulsiveness
for good measure ooh
and aah barely registered
consciousness, and knew
not what blessedness constituted hew
as tremendous precious jewel few
chore birthdays promise with clear clue
how ye go above and beyond
call of sisterly duty aware remaining life
(mine) would be far inadequate to accrue
equitable devotional, emotional,
and financial recompense.
Hence feeble attempt
to distill some essence
with words that appear
incomprehensible and dense,
cuz writing more comfortable
verses talking, which
often jabbering (more like a wookie)
(think fictional hirsute humanoids
in Star Wars universe)
often makes no cents.
Tempus fugit fleets at light speed
quasi immortality conferred as generations rebreed
all the while unwittingly transmitting indeed
idiosyncrasies, mutations, quarks... such as greed
myopia, selfishness... at death sorrow doth bleed.
Jan 11, 2020
Jan 11, 2020 at 11:54 PM UTC