"sycophancy" poems
ah, enslave without compassion
bound ancestors you must impale
go seek and show no mercy
let those who escape carry the tale
all the sufferers bearing witness
to their ministers spilling their blood
staggered screeches from bleak recesses
regicide plotters bend to the dust
with unmitigated conquest and **********
trample them under your tyranny
slimy enshrinement brings into question
what's divinely lamented for
scatter populations with ruthlessness
let them choose sycophancy or sword
reappoint difficult commanders
for instigation unbroken awaits
kept in frenzy, they whisper confusion
never quite sure of their fate
with unmitigated conquest and **********
trample them under your tyranny
let the cowardly unlock the gates for you
to heroically claim what's inside
crowds you abhor kneeling in wonder
all the world is your ****** bride
punctuate the roads with tollgates
***** monuments to broadcast your name
all your banquet's guests are your enemies
entertain them with one another's shame
with unmitigated conquest and **********
trample them under your tyranny
with unmitigated conquest and **********
trample them under your tyranny
under your tyranny
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 2:32 AM UTC
Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya;[email protected])
songs of freedom in Kenya are paradoxical of themselves
they have become the songs of oppressive tyranny
they are not songs that were sang by freedom fighters
in the tropical forests of aberdares and Mabanga
they are blissful carols of powers that be
mouthed by the state poets in the deadly feats
of political sycophancy fuelled by cult of betrayal
and espionage, a real substructure of state dictatorship
they are not the true songs of mau mau
that were sang by Kimathi wa miciuri
they are the songs of the top crust of the tribal
and political powers that be in oblivion of
the cultural revolutionaries that countermanded
cultural Darwinism of European imperial gamesters
they are not the songs sang by Elijah Masinde
of Dini Msambwa that spirited up cultural aura
of cultural dignity;which cautioned certainly
an African against the cultural call of the white culturalizer
the African to balk and turn his back
and **** and spit scornfully at cultural trickster in the colonial ploy
to dance for Dini ya Msambwa in the spirit of war and fires of war
that is to be fought in preservation of democracy and cultural freedom.
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 7:19 AM UTC
SWINES OF CIVILISATION
Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya; [email protected])
Hypocrisy, sycophancy and snobbery
Are the three swines of human civilisation
All are social and power oriented
Cradling from egomaniac fibre of human cowardice
Complementing one another in to a social blend
Of betrayal, despair and stagnation
Hypocrisy removes authenticity brick
From the mall of civilisation
Sycophancy add aghast deficiency
To the mall of civilisation
Snobbery removes justice and fairness
From the mall of civilisation
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 6:45 AM UTC
Herein, laying dormant,
veils of reposed
secrecy 'neath
foamy seascapes'
frenetic passages,
languishing below
sunken treasures'
false facades of
reticently rolling
shrouded bluffs,
shaded of darkly impetuous
hued blood in
unceremoniously
bound convolutions,
a million ancient
undisclosed shadows hidden,
notwithstanding combative
rumblings of death's
unwelcome sycophancy,
depths of centuries'
old unparalleled stories,
whence hush-hush
undulatory influx
of defiant upsurges
and turbulence reside,
that of which only the
winds of indiscretion,
clandestine spirits
& gods could surmise
...as privileged moons watch over amaranthine skeletons
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 6:57 AM UTC
WE SOW FUTUTRE CALAMITIES
Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya; [email protected])
We sow the seeds of future calamities
In our capricious commissions and omissions
We put ourselves centre stage with ego
Not minding how much we mar
The future comfort in our mad scramble
For power and material glory
A wham Pam Pam in which we are carried
Far much away to verge of self-destruction
Cutting the woods to glow fire of selfish fame
Balancing our character on the tri-vicious
Pillars of sycophancy, snobbery and selfish hypocrisy
Looking at the clouds with scold not knowing
Is the cradle of deep blue suits and fibres
In its sympathetic micturations on matter below
The nonchalant oceanic human locomotive soles
Our deeds are full of vagaries as we jostle
To change the world before we change ourselves
The tired world is soon to change the capricious humanity
Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 4:18 AM UTC
Regression parading as tradition
Modernity rejected in culture at the end of history.
Echoes of innovation only linger in the technology
Of subscribed self-adulation,
Quench the thirst trap.
Drink until you drown in the sound of static.
The revolution won’t be televised
Everything’s a repeat, an omnibus of Section 25;
They’re gunning after the enemies of hegemony;
Fight it, resist it; the truth will be twisted
In the teeth of lobbied grins
So sing the populist nationalism anthem -
The only hit in the charts
That sustains the sycophancy of sentimentality.
Everything old, nothing new
To sedate the disenfranchised
Who can’t wait to see the day
Asylum seekers never know sanctuary.
Dec 26, 2023
Dec 26, 2023 at 3:24 PM UTC
Silence twists around my throat,
serpentine in the inky light,
as the paint sticks
and dries beneath my fingernails.
Ideas claw at my solar plexus
threatening sycophancy
treason and madness
in a world of stale passion
and stuttering ignorance.
They wake up and shower,
**** shave, apply the mask
with painstaking detail.
They die before they reach thirty
and go on walking about
as if they know the secret
to eternal bliss-
it's possible that they do,
after all.
I mean, consider the alternative-
an artist haunted by the colors
that live in a winter sunrise,
a nomad reaching for no one
as he chases the sun
across mercurial landscapes,
a writer living through ink
because there's no other way
to quell the storms,
a human shedding expectations
for beautiful things
that will always be broken.
Apr 3, 2017
Apr 3, 2017 at 11:10 PM UTC
Sometimes the searing sharpness of cynicism is required;
The acid, eye -watering lemon zest of fact
Piercing
The soft underbelly
Of platitudes, niceties, clichés, pleasantries and delusions.
The sweet smile offset by the glint in the eye,
The raise of an eyebrow or the hint of a frown
Won't do it.
Slivers of sycophancy stick in the teeth
And globules of gratuitous grovelling make one gag.
Swimming in warm soapsuds makes the skin shrivel
And the body longs for the cold shock of sea and salt.
Slick smoothness sickens like melting ice cream
and pretty politeness can seem
Pretty pointless
In the icy blast of a down turn.
Whipped up enthusiasm is just that -
A lot of hot air.
Oil the wheels, grease the palm, slick back the hair,
Stick on the smile, fix the grin, paint the slap.
Nothing sounds too well held in place;
All ready to slide off, leaving the raw expression of bewilderment
In the face of reality
Sep 24, 2016
Sep 24, 2016 at 6:01 AM UTC
Darkness,
Inflation,
Bigotry,
Nepotism;
Unemployment,
Terrorism,
Kidnapping,
Medical tourism;
Miseducation,
Ethnic cleansing,
Mediocrity,
Tribalism;
Unease of doing business,
Multiple taxation,
Weak currency,
Egotism;
The shamelessness in high places,
The sycophancy along those corridors of power,
The visible aloofness to pressing needs among the masses,
The sheer policy of deliberate regional disempowerment;
Everything points to worse times,
Only the dead need not worry,
For the living, deafening chimes,
A worrying state of statelessness.
Apr 17, 2021
Apr 17, 2021 at 6:09 AM UTC
/ there's a difference
between sycophancy
and, being:
endearing...
like there's a difference
between
what psychiatrists
fear - empathy
and what the generic
(yes, that's a collectivist
term for society)
crave, in the form of sympathy...
why why, oh my...
words actually do possess
the fathomability of squares
and other forms
of ad abstractum;
so... can you make
my sudden surprise: generic?!
ginger ninja, ******* son of
a skivvying mom (um?)
'ere we go! 'ere we go!
rhyme and rhythm -
now watch me perform
a... mahler!
enough rhyme to encompass
a rhythm for you?
- ginger ninja... **** me:
good that i didn't think it up,
but merely passed it on.
(that seriously implies the genesis
of the concept of a paragraph,
in english,
utilißing the hyphen...
i'm foreign:
english isn't exactly to become
a serious concept...
i fiddle with it without playing
a violin...
i toy with it...
the mortus operandi
of the memoria of my great grandfather
(on my mother's side)
was that i was supposed to play
the piano...
sure as **** i'm playing one now...
but all my notes
are "surd"-encodings...
inorganic now...
organic later...
ha ha! that ******* i're celtic
ginger ninja! ha ha!
it's a love: that transcends
domesticatic a woman;
because there's an alternative
to keeping one?
really?!
mmm... just the thought of an alternative:
one word clue...
yummy:
mixed-race *******
jay-jay- jay-may-can oopsie far-vour
(that's québécois
for vow-oh-r
voo...
trump pursed lips...
far- -voo- -voolevie-
voo-va-voom...
and no... it's not a... favour...)
come to think of it,
i prefer organic canvases
of implementation,
since: no poet actually
convened to surprise the, "idea":
which was already a priori in
an ontological canvas;
this? this is just a posteriori!
am i the first person to actually
paint onto a psyche rather than
a blank canvas of wool?
what a ******* piss-head that i am
infuriating such ideas without
any actual implementation strategies!
/
Jul 13, 2018
Jul 13, 2018 at 10:47 AM UTC
There is a luxurious lair of lies
Lovingly tended and layered with blanket truths;
A soft-bedding of sumptuous sycophancy
Tucked in too neatly with a pat on the bottom
delivered by hand.
Delusion drips from wet lips and silken tongues and
Lips smack with self-satisfaction and serial smugness.
Syrupy sentiments mist the eyes and blur the vision.
Charity is cold and cynical here with oily patronage to grease the wheels.
Fresh facts freeze outside the glowing house of harpy half - truths
as self- advancement holds the floor.
You need to wear a cloak to enter and hold it tight against you
You need to study the players
You need to act.
Sep 18, 2016
Sep 18, 2016 at 6:43 AM UTC
that there be no memorandum and that's, with ~one word:
enough said -
enough to say
Maurice Jarre; and the kept heart;
autumnal bearers of
the Griffin mould of brown and
quarter orange -
so i too might remember...
that beckon of the south....
at last in rhapsody
to the one remembered as having the attention span....
and the Shakespearean puncture -
well...
had we been so loved up with learning
as Ancient Arabs were with Aristotle....
10th century revision acquired demand -
i too would make a joke concerning
the black gold of the Saudis...
being spent on joking around the totality
of human affairs... and when the Koran was necessary
the Saudis simply quoted their newly established
Kabul of unorthodox idea -
parallel to Mecca -
minding the failure of:
fill 'em up, meaning they'll be fulfilled;
who gives a **** if the Arabs read Aristotle pristine
in the 10th century, they're hardly the ones to
speak a "saving the planet" speech these days...
they could have read Aristotle perfectly in the 10th
century... but when it comes to readers' digest:
they're basically not clued in...
given it's the 21st century...
i'm blaming all that spending potential...
all that spending potential
on Arab sycophancy, elaborated;
cos', after all, it's just cheese: mozzarella elongation
and a tribute to the moustache.
Oct 12, 2016
Oct 12, 2016 at 9:26 PM UTC