"rebukes" poems
clinton rebukes israel over east jerusalem homes obama nasa plans catastrophic say moon astronauts alaska wolves **** woman's teacher out jogging ireland frees 3 cartoonist plot suspects sarkozy and brown attack u.s. over protectionism pope benedict's former diocese rehoused abuser priest chile puts quake damage at $30bn winnie denies interview criticizing nelson mandela climate change makes birds shrink in north america dr rowan williams is honored for work on russia weymouth ridgeway skeletons scandinavian vikings live bangladesh v england michael schumacher pledges to raise game in bahrain can the u.s. vice-president broker middle east peace? sarkozy's party faces socialist drubbing remote indian state set for development new york dust victims split on 9/11 deal german tells of childhood abuse by catholic priest a step closer to the american dream? lehman: how $50bn was buried in london ba strike union announces dates in march china's oil demand increase astonishing says iea china warns google to comply with censorship laws net clash for web police projects hsbc admits huge swiss bank data theft phil spector ****** conviction appealed sir david jason to voice cbbc animation climate change 'makes birds shrink' in north america thalidomide effect mystery solved blood pressure fluctuations warning sign for stroke winnie denies interview criticizing nelson mandela mogadishu residents told to leave somali capital same-sex couples marry in mexico city by mistake i clicked on wrong button and lost everything
Mar 12, 2010
Mar 12, 2010 at 6:59 PM UTC
Wooing you is like wooing a cat.
I walk half way
and wait for you
to meet me in the middle.
Holding out my hand
in a gentle gesture,
I let you sniff me out
to determine whether
or not I’m a threat.
I don’t speak too
loudly,
I don’t move too
quickly,
and I certainly
don’t touch you without
your express permission.
You rarely come
when I call,
but instead of
allowing bitterness to
build within me,
I am learning to
enjoy the surprise of
your unexpected presence.
Your elusiveness
challenges my self esteem,
yet your touch
rebukes my insecurity.
I cannot gain your
affection by force.
Indeed,
I would only succeed
in reaping resentment;
but there is beauty to be found
in the tenderness that is
freely given.
Jan 6, 2013
Jan 6, 2013 at 11:55 PM UTC
One of these days
I will be on deck, put pedals on my boat
Low it down the deepest streams
And you will watch me as I slowly sail away
Towards the ocean, underneath a stormy sky
Floating ahead of the hightest tides
There I will dive in with everything that I am
Wash away your promises and love notes
Feed your rebukes and blames to the sharks
Then one day
I will return, not for you
'Cause I will not know a thing about you but I will notice you if you dare try to take advantage of my Amnesia
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 7:09 AM UTC
Cold smiles,
Unholy lies,
Dark hearts,
Groping hands,
Perverse thoughts,
Practical words,
Invisible swords,
Heartless refutes,
Unimaginative rebukes,
Hypocritical beings,
These are the things,
That melt the snowflakes in the sun,
Trample sparrows yearning to soar,
Dampen embers smoldering within,
Poach the tiger cub learning to roar.
These are the things
That leave Little broken hearts,
Strewn on the road,
Next to twisted little minds,
Where jaded immature thoughts unload.
May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 2:15 AM UTC
You created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb.
You saw me as a Child of light when i was wrapped, consumed in darkness.
Evil was I when i left her, wicked and unscrupulous.
Yet you kept me, Yet you kept me.
Evil wouldn't leave me it took advantage of a helpless child.
Abused by the hate that is in this world.
Being told evil was good, and accepting the curses of that lie.
Confused, feeling hopeless, growing in a broken home.
Filled with fear, questioned time after time if You were there, Here…
Yet you kept me, Yet you kept me.
Consumed with greed, all i wanted was to be pleased.
Not loving myself, because i wanted to be someone else.
Refusing to see how wonderfully you made me.
I cursed, mocked.
Yet you kept me, Yet you kept me.
Lost and in despair, You called my name, I heard you, I didn't listen.
Parading to be an angel of light, walking the aisles of your sanctuary.
Having the form of godliness but denying its power to change me.
So eager was I, to leave your presence craving for what the world had to offer.
Lusting for sin wanting to fill that gap that was deep within.
Yet you Kept me, Yet you Kept me.
I searched for love, for happiness.
The satisfaction was short lived,
became addictive I needed more, need just a little, needed alot.
Spiraling down, down, down Living with no real hope, totaling my emptiness.
Yet you kept me.
You reached out, you called me again, a clear voice repeating my name.
Telling me its time to change. Change from the way that is vain, vague.
Letting me know u called me to a higher purpose. a place of true love,
Where i can experience the fullness of Joy Happiness Peace.
Despite all I have done, your blood will wash me, make me whole.
Born again, dead to sin, Realizing all the wonders I was truly missing.
Anew, Zealous in Christ, Salvation is so Sweet, Jesus he saved a Wretch like me.
He speaks, He guides, He rebukes All because He Loves me.
Me….Me?...Me.
O Lord yet when i stumble your grace is sufficient for me.
Though I am undeserving.
O lord you have Kept me… You are Keeping me.
O Lord yet when i stumble your grace is sufficient for me.
Though I am undeserving.
O lord you have Kept me… You are Keeping me.
Testimony.
Sep 25, 2013
Sep 25, 2013 at 3:52 PM UTC
It was like the time our cat died
And we buried it in a shoebox
And made a wind chime out of the bell
Carved her name in the tree we buried her under
Just says Beans
I imagine this confuses the family who now lives there
Coffins shouldn't exist for things that small
I asked a friend to sew you a quilt out of her clothes
So you still might know her warmth
Babies grow fast
So much clothes from the shower
It will be a big quilt
Your belly still a bulb of life bursting
But hollow
In thick black sharpie you wrote
MORGUE
Just above your belly button
You maker of life
Giver of the good stuff
Holder of the second heartbeat
You can only make good things
Your body is a mess
Genuinely ugly on the inside
But it creates good things
Remind it of that
When it rebukes its purpose
And lets go
The next one will stay
Because there shouldn’t be coffins
For things that small
You said I could be Uncle Jon
I have never been given that
I’m not allowed to see my own nephews
Because of how the past eats us
The past is a morgue
Of heartbreak festering
And forgiveness is not a time machine
Set to 10 minutes before regret kicked in
When my own children bury me
I hope they do something with what I leave behind
So I know that I actually have something worth
Leaving behind
You did not leave her behind
Even though you named her
Ellie
Elizabeth
But we knew it would be Ellie
She is not how you will be remembered
You do not make mistakes
You make life
In everything you do
As long as you are living
You make life
So when your body forgets this
Remind it
With breath
And tears
And sleepless nights
And anger
And happiness
Make life
May 25, 2012
May 25, 2012 at 4:49 PM UTC
The morning smelt like one of those lost summers,
those bright mornings I remember as a child
before I understood beauty.
It tasted like the cool milk I’d sipped on the cusp of a promising day,
when the stern rebukes of my father could not dim
the power of the blue sky to lift my spirits.
Sadness barely grazed my knees as I walked on the dewy grass
for everything was a masterpiece I'd never examined properly.
The air was warm and golden,
and I was the knight or the lost hero and the afternoon was
set to be filled with imagination and friendships
that I clasped so dear.
But we were sitting on the wall of the Garden of Eden,
looking in and drinking in its beauty, but knowing,
behind us that a dark fiend lurked,
yet never minding to turn around to look properly.
It was when who we were was not quite tangible,
when the light softened the whirling confusion of growing and forming
and we could smile and laugh
and think never mind tomorrow, it's today.
Yes, for a moment, the morning smelt like a lost summer,
so quickly fleeting.
Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 7:07 PM UTC
Feeling you oh my world unjust
from matter grey growing old.
intellect chaotic in cruelty killed
mercies all dead in hearts chilled
for morsels of humanity,ravenous.
with tidbits of graces small ecstatic.
despaired for a dreamy mirage afar
in flaming greed's do I slowly char.
smoky guns rattle dealing out ******
whining chainsaws balding green all
very wombs earthy tremble with nukes
elements all so impure,one just pukes
men in name only **** with rebukes.
all of us many brutalize one world just!
flowing from nooks of a spirit noble
my tears, moistening heart,well in eyes
unseeing and drop silently on earth ******
Feb 15, 2013
Feb 15, 2013 at 5:20 PM UTC
I have betrayed your trust.
You know.
Yet you say nothing.
The silence in your eyes says it all.
They’re always so animate.
Not today.
They’re blank, shielded, silent.
Do you remember, I told you…
That I hate silence?
It leaves so much unspoken.
It leaves such heavy dents.
Even though…
It weighs nothing.
But its nothingness weighs a lot.
It cuts. It strikes. It burns.
It is cold. Icy.
Remember the years we spent so close?
That was comfortable.
Our silences were warm.
They spoke.
They left nothing unsaid.
They were light. And liquid.
I loved them. They were cosy.
They exuded sincerity.
Animate silences. Expressive silences.
But I've betrayed your trust.
And this silence hangs between us.
It is cold, and it slaps me in the face.
It seeps into my veins.
It reminds me of what I did.
It rebukes me.
It lets me punish myself.
It speaks. Of betrayal. Of lies, of secrecy.
Of things left unsaid.
Of broken promises.
Our shattered trust.
Of blackened tar and burnt coal.
Of stained hands and glassy eyes.
Of smeared dirt and crushed diamonds.
Of torn clothes and broken needles.
It speaks. It is silent.
It speaks. It is trust.
It speaks. It is betrayal.
It speaks. It is sin.
It speaks. It is black.
Your eyes are silent.
Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 3:05 AM UTC
A single flame rebukes the darkness; I watch it dance.
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 1:09 AM UTC
Gut convulsions sputtering forth into mental explosions
emotional rebukes and back-tracking,
this feels so right but will be so wrong.
I can't take this leap but I must.
Perhaps in another life it could be
One plus you equals me,
alone with my jawbone tight
grinding molars enclosed in this room's twilight.
Alive and well, loving this emotion
simultaneously raising up and crashing down, what a commotion.
You wore my hat all night long,
made me care about myself, at least for the length of the song.
Now Im by myself, once again, while you're at home with him.
the committed relationship you're in, while we're just friends.
But I see the light in your eyes when we speak.
The uplift of your spirits when we face another feet to feet.
Are you happy and content within the life that you've built?
Or are you ready for something else, subtracting your guilt.
I love you more than you can probably comprehend,
**** the only time we spend together is as wage-slaves,
pacing like hamsters to no foreseeable end.
But every moment we laugh and dance about
makes me want to raise my arms high and shout
"I love this girl and everything she's about!"
But I fear it will never be…
because you're at home with him and not me….
Jul 23, 2012
Jul 23, 2012 at 6:18 AM UTC
I walk with eyes cast to the ground
So I might watch my way
If I'm to plot a measured path
My gaze must never stray
Must never go adventuring
Nor wander round and round
For if I were to glimpse the sights
I might resent the ground
I've found the road uneven
For it scuffs my shuffling feet
Rebukes me for once thinking that
My world was nice and neat
Was full of smooth and shiny lands
So I might never trip
Instead I've learned its rocks and ruts
Cause careless girls to slip
I'm far too scared of stumbling
So I tread a tiring line
Wary step after wary step
So careful all the time
So sure my stride will never break
Against some troubling stone
Trembling with the effort and
Exhausted to the bone
But if only I were braver
And weren't so scared to try
If it weren't for fear of falling
I'm certain I could fly
Certain I could kiss the stars
And sing the sky goodnight
And lose the dullness of the ground
Because the sun is bright
I'd prance across a tightrope
No more shuffling in a line
Giddy with the thought that
All this recklessness is mine
Is pulling me from gravity
Dragging up my worried frown
The world has such a blinding shine
When you’re not looking down
With head turned to the sunbeams
Searing heat upon my face
A rut will twist my ankle to
Remind me of my place
Remind me that a careless girl
Will only find dismay
So though the sky is tempting
On the ground my eyes must stay
I'm not meant for soaring gladness
Nor this reckless song and dance
Some cunning man will trip me
If I ever dare to prance
Dare to fall for pretty words
That cause my heart to pound
It's thrilling, yes, but I'm afraid
And it's safer on the ground
Apr 14, 2011
Apr 14, 2011 at 4:30 PM UTC
PRELUDE
Who is this man with name unknown
with silver hair, and beard long-grown-
Who walks among the birds and beasts
with nature catering to his feasts-
"An eremite", say the village folk,
"the hermit on the mound!"
A mystic, an oracle, philosopher, or seer?
"Perhaps, ye'll find the answer,
buried here!"
.........................
He was sitting on a sidewalk bench
a wrinkled hat laid at his feet
Passers-by would drop their change
as they meandered down the street
"God bless you sir", or madam,
he always replied-
In such a gracious and mannerly way ,
that made him impossible to deny
Some folks would make a comment,
most were polite, others, mild rebukes-
I went to speak on his behalf,
to these young and naive groups.
When I laid my hand on his shoulder
a glint in his eyes put me amiss!
It was then, that I realized
just who this old man is!
"I'll tell you a story, I said,
to the folks standing near,
a tale of caring and compassion-
That I think you'd like to hear"
" I've read legends about "lost gold mines"
and indian folklore
And I tell you folks, without a doubt,
I've met this man before!"
"It's been 'nigh on to fifty years
since I've been back this way
T'was a time when I nearly lost my life,
I recall it, as if it happened yesterday!"
Now, the crowd began to grow a bit-
to listen to my tale-
Of exploring an old, abandoned mine
when the walls began to fail.
I told them of the rumble,
when the ground began to quake
How the ceiling began to crumble
when the walls began to shake-
I told them of the stranger
with silver beard, streaked with tan-
Who came out of nowhere
to help a fellow man
The stranger, who gave me water-
who smiled as he gripped my hand,
while I quenched my thirst
from the curse, of this forsaken land
The folklore tells of a holyman
a name he doesn't bore
who strolls the mountain ridges
and across these cactus covered floors
But, I know who, and what he is-
and up my spine it sends the chills-
When I tell you, "you've come
face to face
with......
"The Angel of the Hills!"
copyright: richard riddle May 01, 2015
May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 12:49 AM UTC
There was a rich man trapped in a dangerous pit along a less traveled path in the desert... another traveler heard the screams but did not move to help because it could possibly cause him harm… as he walked away he suddenly recognized the mans voice and remembered his bountiful wealth…in an instance he ran to the pit and extended his hand at much risk to his health—
He raised the rich man on his shoulders rejoicing as he carried him back to his land. Only a minute into their journey they stepped over a half eaten carcass contorted in the sand. What a disgraceful way to die they both agreed….. Changing the subject the rich man vowed to make a statue of his courageous rescuers face and in reply the traveler exploded “No need I’m just happy your safe!” But deep in the invisible dark silence of his soul he brooded violently about how much reward and recognition he could possibly receive…
The day before the rich man was rescued there was an elderly man that was blind and mute and for hours he frantically tried to track the location of desperate screams to their roots. He clapped his hands and stomped his feet risking his very life by chartering blind in unmapped terrain....Even in his greatest effort he missed the pit by 50 yards. The rich man in the pit heard his noisy attempts and all along cursed his name for not helping but still that didn't stop the blind and mute man from trying. Within his persistent attempts he critically gashed open his leg against a jagged stone and began bleeding out. Alone the old man cried himself to death as his blood soaked in the grains of the dessert. He could still hear the rebukes of the man in the pit cursing his soul as the coyotes fought over his wounded flesh....with his last bit of life the old man wished in his heart that the man in the pit would be safe..............................
Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 11:26 PM UTC
I SAID I will guard my ways, lest I Sin with My Tongue* I will Retrain My Month with A Muzzle, while thy wicked are before Me* I was Mute with Silence, I Held My Peace even from Good* and My Sorrow was Stirred Up* My Heart was Hot within Me, while I was Musing, thy Fire Burned, then I Spoke with My Tongue* LORD Make Me to know my End, and what is the Measure of My Days that I may know how Frail I Am* Indeed, Thou have Made My Days as Hand-Breadths, and My ages is as Nothing before Thee* Certainly every Man at His Best State is but VaporSelah Surely every Man walks about like a Shadow, Surely they busy Themselves in Vain, thou Heaps-Up Riches, and does not know who will gather them* And now, LORD, what do I wait for.? My Hope Is In You.* Deliver Me from All My transgressions* Do not make Me thy Reproach of the Foolish* I was Mute, I did not Open My Mouth, because it was You who did it* Remove Your Plague from Me, I am Consumed by the Blow of thy Hand* When with Rebukes, You Correct Man for Iniquity, Thou make His Beauty melt away like A Moth* Surely every Man is VaporSelah Hear My Prayer O LORD* and give Ear unto My Cry, do not be Silent at My Tears* for I Am A Stranger with You* A Sojourner* as all my Fathers were* Remove Your Gaze from Me, that I may Regain Strength, before I go away and an no more IJMN*
Goodness n Mercy Shall Follow Ours All the Day Of Our Life IJM
GOD Is Our Strength
GOD Is Love
GOD With Us
GOD Bless
Blessed
Aug 7, 2015
Aug 7, 2015 at 8:14 AM UTC
(This verse is dedicated to the teachers teaching my loving daughter Suzanna Christy)
Thou are the guiding stars to her in the garden of learning:
Every alphabet she utters is thy endeavor for her,
Thou lift her hand to write and sketch what thou hast learnt,
The circles thou make are the ones she learns about the world,
The lines thou stretch are the ones she draws her experiences,
The squares thou measure are the ones she weighs her knowledge.
Thou hast shown the ladder to soar by steps,
Thy frivolous rebukes may strike her tiny errors,
And she learns from thee how life takes it route on its way.
Thou hast laid a way for her to carry out tasks,
Thou hast trained her to read herself in her own way,
Yet with the way that has its own ethical values,
Thou hast made her walk on her own,
And thy words of law and ethics still ring into her heart.
Thou art gardeners while she grows with fragrance,
And she shines with her fellow-blooms.
Thou are every-shining brooks carrying tiny blooms towards rivers,
And she flutters on her way with wisdom and in joy.
Thou art mother birds feeding their little ones in the nests,
And she imbibes wit and humor.
Thou teach her science, numbers, signs and gestures,
Thou hast made her a living genius to shine with her genii,
And so, let me paint thee in my lays, and it’s my tribute to thee.
And so, my heart rejoices in my daughter’s fragrance with thee.
Dec 20, 2011
Dec 20, 2011 at 11:12 AM UTC
Thomas, He's amazing..
Yet that dosent even come close to describing his true meaning.
He's not afraid of his fears, because he knows that fear has no place in his heart when it comes.
He's a lover of many, and steals there hearts was he walks in the room:)
He looks over his shoulder and as do I.. He smiles his glowing smile and I smile back, but that was all.
Loyal, he keeps his promises.. And never fails to forget.
Loving, he forgives the ones who have caused him pain and moves on..
Hopeing, he chases after his many dreams, and without a doubt I know he will achieve them!
Blessed, he Uses his god given gifts and lifts others up
Determined, he rebukes the curses that others throw at him and,
Rejoicing, he smiles :)
...to define him? Its impossible...
But he's an amazing friend.. A friend whose always been there..
he's someone I wish I could be like..
He's amazing...
Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 2:17 AM UTC
The Man: It is I, your hero, your hero made of steel. Ready to protect you from those ready to **** and steal...
The Woman: Who is my hero? Who is my king? Who is the one who rebukes those relentless fiends?
The Man: It is I, your faith, your faithful loving love, the Awesome God Almighty, as faithful as a dove.
The Woman: You live far away in Heaven, and I’m a country-side girl. Why do You call my name when I’m as robust as a man?
The Man: I gave you your yellow hair, the shadow of the radiant sun. I gave you your freckles, the night stars scattered on your precious face.
The Woman: I raise hens all day long, I rear pigs all day long, yet You seek me my hero, and watch me as intensely as a hawk.
The Man: I am here for you, and you exist for Me. How then can I neglect you when your heartbeats call unto Me?
I formed the mountains, and I shaped the valleys, but you I created in My likeness and for My honour.
The Woman: Surely I have nothing to offer You, a lone country girl. You own all of Heaven, where the gold’s as clear as glass.
The Man: The gold may be pure, the waters may be clear, but I could never surrender My life for them as I did for you that yesteryear.
The Woman: Don’t flutter me with words, my new found King of Steel. I have nothing to offer You as You fill my heart with joy.
The Man: You do hold something, something I deem as of great worth. It is your heart My young princess, My daughter and My love.
The Woman: You’re the Rider on the White Horse, but I’m a poor farmer on a dull mule,
*(The document ends here as it has disintegrated too far to be able to make retrieve more of the work.
It is kept in an unspecified museum.)*
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 12:19 PM UTC
She hid in the closet under ***** piles of clothes
“Hide” whispers mom “until the bad men do go”
Innocence quiet; unknowing her fate
Hours pass by, the eve now grows late.
Three years on this planet
Addicted at birth; the wings of an angel
Doomed to a hell on this earth
Slowly the cover removed from her head
Weak and hungry she gazes, hopes and then dreads
The blue man speaks softly, aware of her fear
“Come out my dear child”, your savior is here.
Her heart races wildly “my mommy!” she screams
Guilt envelopes her innocence; ashamed of her deeds
“I be good, Mr.”, “get my mommy”, she pleads
Her small heart now broken; water pours from her eyes
A cub alone trembling; abandoned by her strong pride.
Blue man explains the only way he knows how
“Mommy is sick, and you can’t see her now”.
He hands her a bear, takes her for a long, ride
A new house she enters, from her “new mom” she hides.
Blue men and suit men; ladies in dresses
Ask questions too much; adding confusion and stresses.
Days turn into weeks, and weeks into years
Her age now is six; to rules she tries to adhere.
Strange people revolve, another house she plays in
A “new family” surrounds. Still she rebukes her own sins.
The system that “saved” her, the people who enslave her
Attempt to repair her; as they continually fight the thought of defeat:
They ask her the same thing again and again…
“What do you need for or wish for, my sweet?”
She answers the same as she did on that bad day,
“I wish blue man didn’t find me when I wiggled my feet”.
Nov 13, 2010
Nov 13, 2010 at 3:31 PM UTC
Flopping, flipping,
Flattering lips
Are the company
Of fools
Or worse:
A bitter enemy,
Who conceals a heart
So cruel
But words of truth -
Even bold rebukes -
Do accompany
The wise
They are a friend,
And will find favor in,
The men of
Righteous eyes
.
Aug 4, 2019
Aug 4, 2019 at 11:48 AM UTC
A knee length scream rebounds down the empty hall,
The walls as bear as her legs, which bear her away from the roar.
Not far behind, another set of legs, another set of pleats,
This time the floor reflects polished black and matt twill
And a slippery set of sneaky misogynies disguised as paternal concern.
But a good father does not stare at his daughter's legs.
He worries, as does his running child, about the man who's gaze is perpetually set a foot or two below eye level.
But when it wanders, as it "always must," our daughter rebukes his lust,
And her first and last words muster the might of all daughters and sons.
And she stands on her chair, so that this time his eyes are looking level,
And bellows from the fog of anger that had been slowly settling about her uncovered ankles.
You can imagine how that went down.
So sprinting, whooping, echoing across the school,
Her cries of exhileration tug spirits out of rooms.
The path of the pin-straight Man is blocked by the faces of his children,
He trips on their blue hair, their white shoelaces, and their black denim hems,
And as he falls she rises, out of her skirt and above the regime,
For neither define her as a separate being,
Nor as a string in the weave that catches that pastoral shin
And catapults the shepherd into the stampede of the sheep.
Mar 14, 2016
Mar 14, 2016 at 5:22 PM UTC
It is generally supposed we come to this place
As a just reward for treachery and traitorousness.
Indeed, nothing could be farther from the truth;
Most of my compatriots her have blindly hitched their fortunes
To some flag, some shining dogma, our fates sealed
Through an unwillingness to be sufficiently self-interested,
The refusal to abandon ship once it became apparent
That the experience upon the rocks
Would be neither enabling nor ennobling.
My own case is illustrative of the rule;
My father, noble sovereign ascending to the throne
Via parlor tricks and the rustic embrace of folk legend,
(The fornication resulting in my birth brushed aside
As some accident of mistaken identity or enchantment)
Is celebrated, beatified really, in song and legend,
Yet I, who pulled myself up by my own bootstraps as it were,
Winning his queen’s hand and defeating him on the field,
Am consigned to this unhappy place in perpetuity,
Suffering demons who hiss ******* Usurper!*
As they put me through my paces
(One takes their rebukes with a grain of salt;
They are all mad, the likely result of dealing with this glut of madmen.)
As I noted, the presence of myself and my brethren in this place
Serve as a testament to the merits of fidelity,
Which we commemorate daily, some days several times
(I confess it seems more than a touch silly,
But the necessity of creating distractions
Trumps other concerns in a locale such as this)
By staging caucus races, each participant addressing
The ******* in front of him directly,
Paying it fealty--My liege! My liege!--which is answered in turn
By a cannonade of noxious farting
(We assume the smells to be offensive,
As the atmosphere here is somewhat deleterious at all times)
All to the great amusement of those sprites
Who observe our machinations,
They in turn guffawing madly and urinating downward upon us
While we, as the acidic waste corrodes us, also cackle like lunatics,
Fairly shouting Ah, the gentle rain of Heaven--thank you, Lord!
Though, oddly enough, our laughter at times
(Most likely due to the aridity of the atmosphere around us)
Seems to catch a bit in the throat.
Feb 16, 2017
Feb 16, 2017 at 10:10 AM UTC