"ronin" poems
Just a wicked peacenik’n quick draw from the Paw
Game of Thrones’n the Shah, cRussian bones of the law
And still spewing the news like the red dragon’s maw
When the baby-skull splitters want nuclear winter
Ideal New Cold steel and send Chernobyl shivers
Down Roman Republicans’ severed headlines
Till there’s no more dead kids on for prophet front lines
I’m in exile sharpenin’ [sic]kles in style
Pyongyang’n Kuomintang climate denials
Erasing their nation-hate racial profiles
Outpacing their skinhead disgraces by miles
Shell casin’ this place like the Nuremberg trials
For Fords sellin’ swastikas stockpile bibles
Defiled by Normandy tide genocidals
Fresh meat off the boat spreadin’ Plague mercantiles
I smile and **** ‘em with kindness
Then grind
Battle tax in my acid bath
Salt Marchin’ prime
Because WAR IS THE CRIME
I’m the Clown Prince of Rhyme,
Level 9 state of mind
Like the state of Rakhine
The Black Hand before time
Runnin’ Africa’s Luciest Sky Diamond mine
I’m the ronin alone in
The monkey god shrine
And my guile’s reprisal’s Versailles treaty signed
Strippin’ pride from the Rhine
‘Till your Motherland’s mine
Swine
Apr 8, 2018
Apr 8, 2018 at 2:37 AM UTC
Gliding in air
was an eerie delightful hue
hanging high above violet and blue,
for eons no one had knew,
the peon pest probing around
the howling zoo,
rhyming and roaming
hiding and hoping
flighty the ronin
ran,
groping every moment he could come to
as a token to his gallantry
the guidance to his apathy
decided to devise his only strife
to live happily
Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 1:53 PM UTC
Like a cell drawing in pure water, rejecting unnecessary, undesirable molecules.
Like a virus spreading multiplying, taking over with vigor and tenacity.
Like the bubbles on the burbling lips of a toddler, growing and popping and dripping.
Like a ronin samurai without a lord, coming and going like the wind.
Like a thought that just won’t quit, a feeling that burrows into the bones.
Like the intensity of a fire, when a steady wind presses the seat of the fuel source.
So is my passion for life.
Apr 20, 2023
Apr 20, 2023 at 8:48 PM UTC
All weapons of
the fates you've sealed
Are no match for
this pen I wield
The power to
articulate
Ticking rhyme bombs
to detonate
The conflicts waged
gambling mankind
My perfect hand
is treaties signed
Hellbent hounds pray
like dogs, I hunt
Frontline this notebook
battlefront
With metaphors
of mindless drones
Like similes
to brainwashed clones
Whose C4 booms
and IED's
Can't build bridges
like ABC's
Or tear them down
with death regimes
By rusting through
the war machines
Flamethrowin’ my
verbal grenade
With ****** noun
scorched-earth tirade
On militant
cold-blood elite
King cobras know
I'm packing heat
Seeking missile
resolution
Winged raptor
devolution
Prehistoric
barbarism
Literacy
cataclysm
Stockpiling
extinction bones
We're cavemen carving
fallout stones
My Hiroshima
prose explodes
With nuclear
bushido codes
Released from my
katana's ward
To free my press
from shogun lord
Oppressing haiku
imagery
And samurai
epigraphy
Expressions of
my ronin soul
Omitted by
the daimyo
Satsuma is my
poetry
My final draft's
Nagasaki
Ink cartridges
strapped 'round my neck
I print no charge
or background check
And ****** every
live round free
Of innocent
blood elegy
And killing sprees
of gunned-down news
Domestic violence
black and blues
A Number 2
pencil dependent
Obsolete
lead-head amendment
Open carry
shoots a blank
Empty shell case
at my think tank
So grip this peace
then **** and pull it
**** my diction
write the bullet
Oct 8, 2016
Oct 8, 2016 at 2:10 PM UTC
that hat seller
he’s a Maverick
itinerant, wanderer
no monkey business
no dependence, his own man
busy, he has one thing to do:
to sell his hats
*Hats, hats, hats
hats for sale
Blue hats, black hats,
gray ones -
will lend you some dignity
while on your heads*
they’d not want to help him
they liked to brand him
so he said: **** you,
I’d rather go on my own*
moving from one place
to another
like a masterless samurai, a ronin
no monkey business for him
but the monkeys do come to him
he knows the monkeys
they’re everywhere the same -
pinching, covetous, not giving
but eager hands for taking;
and he throws his own hat down
and the monkeys imitate;
and he collects what is his
and he moves on, as he must
for his work is everywhere
busy, he has one thing to do:
to sell his hats
*Hats, hats, hats
hats for sale
Blue hats, black hats,
gray ones -
will lend you some dignity
while on your heads*
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 8:41 AM UTC
once I had a master
whose name lent some dignity and glamour
now I wander
free of institution
free of protocol and guidelines
I am the wandering ronin
nowhere to belong, related to none
and so coming in to freedom
when I was within Order and File And Rank
when I was within Identity and Badge and the Group
I had recognition and complacency
Now I am the ronin with no labels
wandering as I desire
unfettered as the birds of the sky
and as the ocean waves
Now I have no rules to follow, no obligations
just the rhythm of love and justice
Now I see all that I thought was necessary was but a burden;
the price for my place had been my freedom
And now I am the wandering ronin
uninhibited, unconditioned, free
as a sparrow might choose to rest where it pleases
Sep 4, 2012
Sep 4, 2012 at 9:42 AM UTC
In this chapter of life,
I decipher decisions with my knife,
resting under a tree,
staying out of the light,
i know i must stay alive,
resting my hand on the hilt of my sword,
standing for battle once more,
I lower my mask,
to show my evil core,
a wondering ronin bent on settling a score,
I fight for family,
and poverish,
and anyones who's suffered,
my katana will strike for you,
pride of the samurai,
fire falls from the sky,
let the gods cry tonight,
tonight, tonight,
Using my thumb,
I release my zanpakuto from its sheath,
I'm ready to strike at any time,
but first i think of the ones i love,
for if it wasn't for them,
I wouldn't be standing today,
glancing down to see the three skulls hanging from my waist, residing next to my knife,
the man whom taught me to fight,
the day he died,
he lied in my arms,
i love.....
never getting to say who,
might have been the first time my father cried,
the same king hath slain dad in my eye,
was the same man,
to burn my son alive,
only proceeding to **** and **** my wife,
she ceased to cry,
I never shed a tear,
just held their screaming heads for all to hear,
i started to walk,
I fight for family,
and poverish,
and anyones whos suffered,
my katana will strike for you,
pride of the samurai,
fire falls from the sky,
let the gods cry tonight,
tonight, tonight,
With every clinching strike,
I **** the demons underlings,
slicing and hacking,
I remember each and every soul,
I'll pray for them,
not to be ***** in hell,
standing before the demon king,
grabbing my sword I don't even need,
I could **** this man with one bare hand,
he'll cower in fear as my kin never did,
I cut him once across his chest,
splitting his cage of once were ribs,
his organs spill to the ground,
finger through the blood,
lower down to grab his heart,
palmed his head in my bare fist,
raising my sword to his neck,
you think this is pain?
try hell,
with that said,
I split his head from his neck,
tying his hair to my belt,
a fourth skull i must hold.
Feb 12, 2010
Feb 12, 2010 at 8:38 PM UTC
If you'd look down on your body
And see only bruises and scars
You're not alone, don't worry,
You're not the only shooting star.
I've not painted myself,
With things as black as yours;
But, mind you, I've been as dark as thyself,
And I've been in too many horrors.
I've not blame you for the blade you've held,
But I feel your grief, and this I'd tell;
I've felt it before, your feelings compelled,
In a sea of regret, from cloud 9 you fell.
I've tried many times to drown my sorrow,
And watch blood of innocence drip through unwelcome wound,
And rise, another day, not as hollow,
And plaster a smile as if I'm not doomed.
Today, I regret ever letting my demons run
Even though they'd pushed me to write;
I'd say to you "Be strong! Bask another sun!"
And let your demons help you in the fight!
Just know that one even from across the oceans,
Would like to see you stand;
Would like to see you trump your omens
And lend a helping hand.
If you'd be switched over,
I'd help you back up again.
Even if I can't go sooner or later,
At least with the words that came from my pen.
I hope you'd read this,
Even out of the boon,
Even if you'd not find bliss,
Together, let's sing our battle tune!
Jul 6, 2016
Jul 6, 2016 at 6:05 AM UTC
what about that "strange, mortal" coinage of: i just don't want to be here?!
i just can't imagine why
i landed among you depressed rejects -
i really can't, i wrote
poetry, and i guess that's
my excuse, but i like emotional
retards - it makes me feel
alive, i can feel like i can have a beer
and talk Pamplona and Hemingway
and **** oh yeah, they mentioned
go easy on them,
there's me and my blabber mouth,
or as the n.s.a., make new friends that aren't
required extras for the new Hobbit Movie,
jokes aside, i am actually making a investment quote,
no new movie, New York and all...
hmm? what a ****** question,
certain words should never be a question,
rather... what a ****** word to leave a question with;
i mean, what word is imbededed with nuance? oh, right,
the underlined one, robotics microsoft
villa and the twenty two toilets... hmm,
too many guests taking a **** i guess;
i mean (i can say this with a hardened expression
learning to be my father while he un-buried his to
be a father to me made only welcome to a mother,
and no celebrated deity of flesh worthy of **** and whatnot.
it's not fair given the 1990s and Bon Jovi,
and Ghost, and Swayze... it's, just, not, fair!
so agonising to be the choirmaster, you get me?!
no, of course you don't, cos you're Harry Potter.
i know your benevolence,
and it's truly a Ronin tale, all i know is a no toward
Samurai of your idle heart to save a beat, my heart a Shogun,
that was to be - yet more verse i wish to write impaled
worth the pain, for your eyes to sleep entombed
missing spring - as you are, unknown to me, Greek,
because i know no other love worth a mention.
Jun 19, 2016
Jun 19, 2016 at 10:20 PM UTC
As to this
cobbled together understanding:
The universe despises absolutes, and
cares not for truth seeking.
The grand spiral needs no faith.
It is not with the master's death, then
that we have become spiritual ronin,
beholden to none;
without obligation -
without the comfort of purpose....
Instead, here we are,
the rain dogs of the cosmos;
lost and alone
on a strange world
with no scent to follow.
We are the orphans of sun and moon -
bad parents if ever there were.
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 5:14 PM UTC
I wander now
in the wilderness, in the woods
on deserted paths between villages
greeted by strangers
welcomed by humble folk
but welcomed at no Lord’s castle
rejected by Masters and Authorities
shunned by those in Position, in Step
ostracised and kept in the distance by Establishment
the lonely all-embracing tree
offers me shade
the narrow cave
accepts me in the night
a kind wife and her man
offer me part of the meal
they have prepared for their children
the Order harries me on
I have to keep moving
And nothing in my past
condemns me in the present
nor does it save me
All that I’ve learned
is become my burden
All that I’ve loved
I’ve grown to hate
Of my own life
I’ve made my straitjacket
and in my footsteps you read
The Sutra of the Outsider
Sep 4, 2012
Sep 4, 2012 at 9:43 AM UTC
Skipping lightly on surface tension
hopping lotus pad to pad
barely left a ripple leaving
the domestic shenanigans.
Now rogue ronin rock,
no master no disciple
I wander without orbit
gliding between
Thirty suns warming
cockles of a deadened heart
dreaming a home
Jul 14, 2016
Jul 14, 2016 at 3:58 AM UTC
I'm the unholiest of nights
I am nocturnal antichrists
I am the intifada phantom
Blacking out the Israelites
I am the netherworld Rohingya
To Gautama's paradise
I can indulge in my salvation
For a fraction of the price
I am the spice of life aboard
Malagasy pirate ships
I am the pyramids of greed
Built atop the cracks of whips
I get on nerves of your Nirvana
I'm the burning Book of Mormon
I'm a hundred years of war
And famine, plagues and locusts swarmin'
I am 47 ronin
To the Hiroshima priest
As they Shinto Harakiri
I am rising in the east
I am the fracture in the caste
Of the Brahmin’s brittle bones
I am the wrath of jealous deities
On Mount Olympus thrones
I'm the cult of personality
The Satan's circle level
I'm the hammer and the sickle
I'm the patron saint of rebel
I'm the heathen Eden extremist
The radical depiction
Of Muhammad's severed head
Adorned in crowns of crucifixion
I'm the Xenu Voodoo Guru
I'm the omniversal cosmic view
The lord of space and time
And now my thetan horde awakens you
From sins of your mortality
I know them all too well
You place your faith in heaven
But I make mine here in hell
Aug 3, 2017
Aug 3, 2017 at 3:04 AM UTC
Ronin
falsely accused
of pledging allegiance
to God, king, country, creed or kin
any and all become stains on my sword
should push come to shove, by honor
neither bought nor ordered...
guilty as charged
ronin.
Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 1:16 PM UTC
In the warring states, they called us men of the waves: 'ronin'.
Masterless, we drifted in and out with the tide because we understood the nature of movement was nothing more than 'hi's' and 'byes'. So we wave both: peace.
It was in this freedom that we arrived at the fearlessness of dying.
We completed ourselves: one with our shadows, our hearts as broken compasses,
scars as maps and our souls held as swords to leave the mark of our nameless legends on the pages of history books that tried to forecast our fate. They now call us men 'a dying breed', though it was by facing death as a way of life that we became immortal.
We were light on our feet to the point of buoyancy, for you could not keep a man of the waves down.
You should have seen us in our element.
We pretty much flew.
Apr 11, 2019
Apr 11, 2019 at 3:33 PM UTC
Cast a drab shadow on my adjacent soul
And protecteth it from Helios above.
Neglected in shrouded shalom, contoured in kohl
You indefinite ruin, You darkened dove.
Obelisk towering as my shaded shelter
Untied to serve no master in dark.
Forged with fire, with brimstone in welter
Obliged to nothing, Ronin sharpened arc.
Ripped through tear of flesh and blood
Gave way my physical being of desire.
It punctured through altar, frustum of mud
Veiling ethereal magnificent, we all acquire.
Eastern deities and imperial gods,
Match not with what I awed.
Erased, my heart is not.
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 5:10 AM UTC
It is the time to say Goodbye…
When I feel there is no meaning for me being around…
Those who I love…
With the one I loved…
With myself that I didn’t find…
Being around seems like being one The…. Last of Mohicans
Although... I truly loved you...
Although... I was genuinely the Little Silly One...
Although...I couldn't hold the Heart of Fearless Ronin...
But...What only left is...
The unsaid Goodbye…
When No Options are left!
When All Choices are leading to one Choice!
When the Heart is not Functioning normally!
When the rhyme of your Music is haste!
Then...
Goodbye!
Jan 5, 2016
Jan 5, 2016 at 9:12 AM UTC
What worries the weapon more than peace?
That sheath that seeks to still its story.
When kings grow old and tire of schemes
And children dream no more of glory.
What becomes the warrior
When heroes live only in song?
When there is no one left to conquer
And every battle has been won.
When the wind no longer speaks of steel
And mountains have forgot our name.
When all that's left are memories
Of the fallen, Of the shame.
Worry not though for the blade.
Spare no thought toward the sword,
For peace shall fall to slumber.
War will wake once more.
Oct 11, 2024
Oct 11, 2024 at 10:20 AM UTC
Out of the void and into your life,
Out on our own and into the strife,
Out in the world in search of a home,
Out on our own but never alone,
Out with the old and in with the new,
Out of our depth but making it through,
Out in the light away from the dark,
Out of the void and making a mark,
Out of our home- descending to hell,
Out of our zone- our comforting shell,
Out in the dark away from the light,
Out of control and into the fight,
Out of the team that made it this far,
Out on our own with many a scar,
Out of the flames- no love left to burn,
Out for the count- no hope of return.
Feb 25, 2010
Feb 25, 2010 at 7:34 AM UTC
Scary label!
****** in principle!
Ruthless by craft!
He is the one who lost a privilege!
He is the Drifter! Wandering in universe looking for answers! Looking for himself! Looking for privilege taken from him!
Would he be interested in people around him?
Would he look around for comfort?
Would he consider the pain inside him?
Would he consider those scars in his body?
He is a Drifter!
He is ahead than others!
He is a seeker!
Nothing more to lose, but more to gain!
No more to dwell in the past, more journeys to go through!
Breaths to be inhaled and power to exhale!
There is purpose, meaning, belief, faith and hope!
Those don't exist in loser, they exist in
Fearless Ronin!
Dec 17, 2015
Dec 17, 2015 at 11:36 PM UTC
Once the world was pure in design
Twice the air was sullied
Thrice the demons came forth to dine
Once the world was pure in ideals
Twice the water grew red and muddied
Thrice by the angels who broke the seals
Once the world was pure in responses
Twice the earth was spilt
Thrice the gods of man spat nothing but nonsense
Once the world was pure in expansion
Twice the flora and fauna were made ashes
Thrice the world was thrown into hell’s mansion
Once the world was pure
Twice it fell
Thrice was made no more
Feb 5, 2019
Feb 5, 2019 at 10:28 AM UTC
When one is young,
Parents shape their future.
Life comes undone
Nothing you can suture.
One experience after another
Your mind sours.
The goodness in you, you smother
It retreats to a corner and cowers.
Left with only darkness
Your personality now transforms.
Your light is now a carcass
And your eyes are filled with storms.
The hate inside you boils
And comes to a head.
Everyone you know, recoils
As they fill with dread.
You feel like a ronin
with nowhere left to turn
The walls around you close in
This is what you've learned.
So do what you can
And live your life alone
You never had a plan
Your entire existence, you've blown.
Jan 12, 2011
Jan 12, 2011 at 1:43 AM UTC
i move thru rolling hills clothes caked from dust
a pilgrim with no master and
no one to trust
for love of the art dictates
my style and stance
fluid in the movements of hells
windstaff
kitana at my side in my hand sacred
scrolls
the blade reaps the souls words clash with frontal lobe
i journey the countryside sunrise to
sunset
thru bloodshed from foes neck i remain unchecked
suspect at large down this lone
path i march
throat parched from dry wind i remain unhealed
scarred from the years i dodged
enemy spears
and nights i lost love from the one
i dried tears
no one to swear allegiance to while i roam presestined
and strengthened as my wisdom remains unquestioned
left in the wreckage of this rite of
passage
casualties and threats flee
i remain a savage
Mar 25, 2019
Mar 25, 2019 at 7:04 AM UTC
-So many mistakes to make
-One of the worst that I've ever made...
-Grabbin' my pen like a samurai and venturin' out like some ronin brigade
-Clever clever think clever, renegade
-Naw, I chose the path of many blades
-Shaw shank with no redemption
-Cuz a blade only points one way, destination
-I'm tryna enter your mind, ***********
-Scramble your brain, mutilation
-I bare a heart that bleeds no mercy
-Treacherous land I walk is spitefully filled with vengeful hearts tryna hurt me
-So I let my enemies bleed untold stories
-As I wipe their blood from my pen like excess ink that held its own glory
-I seek to be number one
-Scars from this journey bare lessons I can only hope I've learned from
-My demise will come when I can no longer hold my sword
-Only then will I perish in the sands of my no more
Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 5:48 PM UTC
Every day in the same corner...
Every day in the same coffee shop...
With the same Espresso and bottle of water...
Alone and no one on the other chair!
Headphone embracing my ears with "All along the watchtower" melody!
Violin screaming out for me to show what is hidden inside!
It is not the time! still there time to dwell in silence and listen to you!
When a Ronin rest, he heals the In before the Out!
He Listens to Messages from Heaven!
He Reads what Nature is giving!
Still there enough time to raise!
He still has that..... Hope!
Dec 26, 2015
Dec 26, 2015 at 2:57 AM UTC