"usurp" poems
You do the math and I'll provide the irrationals,
as I tend to cling to panic in the asymmetry of life.
In this Twenty-First century women still suffer
from laws streaming out of councils of men.
These are not self-stabbing heroines,
they do not ask the heavy deluge of derision.
They are faced with laws stemming from an abbatoir,
from men who wish to usurp the birthright.
Men who have become strangers to their own mothers,
men whose ***** dispense a fouled milk,
men who deserve an **** ultrasound colonoscopy.
So, I beg you to balance the inequality of the equation,
gather our sisters in this non-Euclidean space:
this is one we solve by inspection!
May 5, 2012
May 5, 2012 at 10:57 PM UTC
Weep not Nigeria,
for justice is in the offing.
Weep not Nigeria,
for your cries resonate and ring.
Weep not Nigeria,
It's time for your African spring.
Weep not Nigeria,
none shall usurp your role as king.
Weep not Nigeria,
for soon in ecstasy you'll sing.
Weep not Nigeria,
for to towering heights you'll cling.
Weep not Nigeria,
and soar atop the eagle's wing.
Weep not Nigeria,
for your patience will gladness bring.
Weep not Nigeria,
it's time to sing the ding **** song.
Weep not Nigeria,
for your misery will not be long.
Weep not Nigeria,
for you are numbered with the strong.
Jan 17, 2020
Jan 17, 2020 at 5:37 AM UTC
The Mind-Slaves
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking.***
Why do we treat Obedience with more reverence than we do Critical Thinking?
(CONTROL)
***Obedience is not a ******* acceptable substitute for Critical Thinking.***
Obedience is not inherently bad, but unquestioning Obedience is tantamount to Fascism.
To Terrorism. To Americanism. To Consumerism. To Militarism. To Racism. To Sexism.
Obedience can never, ever stand in place of Critical Thinking.
If you want to get immersed
in a true story:
live your own life.
That is, of course,
unless you've allowed it to be set up
in such a way
that it is no longer
a true story.
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not an acceptable ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
Obedience is not so much your friend as is Critical Thinking!
***Obedience is a ******* marionette string for those in power!***
***Obedience ***** up Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* virtue unless you're a Slave!***
***Obedience is not a ******* virtue unless you're a Servant!***
***Obedience is not a ******* virtue unless you're a Tyrant!***
***Obedience is not a ******* virtue unless you're a Fascist!***
***Obedience is not a ******* virtue unless you're a egocentric power-hungry ****
***Your Obedience is not equivalent to your ******* worth, nor is your ******* wealth.***
The number of people who idolize you is not a quantification of how good you are!
Obedience is a way to circumvent Critical Thinking!
Obedience is a way to usurp Critical Thinking!
Obedience stifles Critical Thinking!
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
***Obedience is not a ******* substitute for Critical Thinking!***
Feb 2, 2013
Feb 2, 2013 at 4:29 PM UTC
Lend me your eyes.
So I could fill them
with the bursting stars.
Telling tales of the spellbinding universe,
singing songs of exploding suns...
and of splintering quasars.
Lend me your thoughts.
So that if I may,
write of them.
Fantastical scribbles of love
and praise.
Meticulously lined
and carefully stitched...
with immaculate lace at the hems.
Lend me your breaths.
I'd catch them as they fall...
between the words you would say.
Merging mine with yours...
introducing colour...
and vigour
to my monochromatic world of
black, white and grey.
Lend me your heartbeats...
for mine thumps erratic.
As if beating in silent mock.
I depend on the steadiness in yours.
So they could usurp
the ticks of worldly clocks.
Lend me your hands.
Palms up as a sign,
perhaps as an invitation...
for me to take them.
And maybe...
hopefully fill them...
with mine...
Jul 31, 2015
Jul 31, 2015 at 10:06 AM UTC
when made a designated drinker
for a designated driver.
when stomaching stale pabst
and rationed sweet cider.
when frat boys fulfill
stereotypical homophobia.
when twenty grade A reds
can't last me longer than a dream.
when old man nightclub and triple kills
usurp the crown of moderation.
when you fall asleep
with so much in your blood to spill
like beans,
or milk not worthy of tears,
and i keep a loom in my heart
where i weave a string of everyone
[with myself]
and every fray in warp or weft
is mimicked by the splinters
shuttled to my hand.
Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 10:06 PM UTC
Pollen on your lips,
a bee in search of it,
I usurp it, get more
than what I asked for.
ഈ തേനീച്ച കൊതിച്ചതിലേറെ
നിൻ ചുണ്ടിലെ പരാഗം
തേടിയെത്തി തേനീച്ച ഞാൻ
കവർന്നതു ഞാൻ നുകരവേ
കൊതിച്ചതിലെറെ ത്തന്നു നീ
Aug 28, 2015
Aug 28, 2015 at 10:48 AM UTC
I am the Pumpkin Pie
I rule....
Woofer drools with envy
Over the Pumpkin Pie
Oh, yeah he tries so hard
To Usurp me
But I grab that dude
by his ear
And drag his *** about
Cause that Fool
is no Pumpkin Pie
I rule the Roost.
Just a few words
by Pumpkin Pie
The most supreme
dog of the Land
Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 10:14 PM UTC
If your muggy-grubby hands
Even rise to slap me again
I swear I'll chop them off with my axe.
If your fangly-boniony feet
Get within kicking distance of me,
I swear I'll tear your legs from your hips
And then admire my workmanship.
If your mangy-crazy mind
Tries to infiltrate mine
To deposit some lie
That would change the perception
Of me, myself, and i,
I swear I'll grab a spoon
And scrape, scrape, scrape
Out your brain.
If your hoity-toity attitude
Tries to usurp my solitude
To make me someone I'm not
I swear I'll be completely dispassionate
As I wipe your every iota from this
Particulate Universe.
If I so much as hear you breathe,
I swear I will squeeze
Every
Drop
Of
Air
Left in your lungs.
You think this is too violent even for me?
You'd better believe
I've been pushed to the edge
Of all logical reason
By your every act of treason
And I won't hesitate to
Incapacitate,
Excommunicate
Eradicate,
You from my life.
You'd better beware.
I'm angry and all this I'll do.
I swear.
Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 5:20 PM UTC
Three striped cats daily demonstrate awakening:
a) BijaChen: startles by pounce onto bed or banging of sunlit window blinds;
b) BlueMonsoon: prefers annoying whining coordinated with scratching at blankets;
c) LadyFiona: chooses a prickly psychic stare into my sleeping consciousness to disrupt dreams. (she must have been a witch's cat).
Sleep you say?
Mr. Rooster, lover of Flathead Lake cherries,
rehearses a solo operetta while strutting sharp grey claws inches from the screen door.
Doze off?
Thirty small brown-red-yellow-speckled birds usurp seeds at the swinging feeders in frenzied unharmonious clatter,
While the low moan of iron hinged gate closes pale hay and tall horses into the corral.
Rest?
Urgently a growling lawn mower slashes green strands of life and delicate insects from their microcosms of Little Earth,
And calico barn cats dive from rafters onto feed sacks to devour the crunch of breakfast.
Lao Tzu speaks no sound, eyes watch
Two butterflies sweep though moist morning monsoon air.
Jul 13, 2014
Jul 13, 2014 at 1:46 PM UTC
Dilapidated,
I hang on the precipice of perdition.
My lacerated synapses,
struggle to usurp the assailant
who created my beautiful crimson demise.
I'm weary of being ostensibly content,
with all of this malice and prating that enshrouds me.
Lets not mask this with useless euphemism.
I'll make this as equivocal as I can.
Its time for this dalliance to end.
Its time I end my diminutive existence.
Dec 22, 2011
Dec 22, 2011 at 11:49 PM UTC
As due by many titles I resign
My self to Thee, O God; first I was made
By Thee, and for Thee, and when I was decayed
Thy blood bought that, the which before was Thine;
I am Thy son, made with Thy Self to shine,
Thy servant, whose pains Thou hast still repaid,
Thy sheep, thine image, and, till I betrayed
My self, a temple of Thy Spirit divine;
Why doth the devil then usurp on me?
Why doth he steal, nay ravish that’s thy right?
Except thou rise and for thine own work fight,
Oh I shall soon despair, when I do see
That thou lov’st mankind well, yet wilt not choose me,
And Satan hates me, yet is loth to lose me.
2.6k
spoon fed my keepsakes as nothing blots the sun so much
you teach me how to cringe in spun sugar. the nape of your
neck.
gleefully, we usurp the thicket of our mild dementia. sullen
joy equipped. a sumptuous dirge curdles the myth, your fins
***
as troubadours, we malinger in the pith of our blunt fruit. crust
removed from our daily bread. our basket of basilisks, bathe
in stone.
duel wielding our gazebos... we bivouac in our ambivalence, by
turns we move. you tip toadstools as i milk maidens for their
candelabras.
our palominos run. we do
violence to timpani and click mice.
pc
drifting in the cyberwocky. we transit the binary auto-bond
and paste
whats
clip.
blue thumbs thread cranberry noose. our ***** nods off. fronds
of juniper and cannabis slap the window pane. throughwhich
a *** mouse pounced on frond’s sway.
startled, we move the furniture of our eastern proclivities.
for thine is the kingdom
of our discontent !
swing-shift lap-dogs, trundle west of the east village. smell
of ****** and nag champa. idiots sting.
idiots braid zodiacs with greasy fingers. [ indeed ]
and
you
preach from your gut...
( your left breast marvelous with taint) and saltwater taffy.
we
laugh again-
at things we have
and now
only
harbor ghosts
where the rain
should have
been.
should have
been.
should have
been.
should have
been.
should have
been.
should have
been.
this is the new
intimacy.
Jun 5, 2013
Jun 5, 2013 at 7:03 AM UTC
You?
You make me fabulous,
all wow and starry;
feel I can usurp King at Kong
and then move on to beat Federer
at ping pong
on the Atari!
Jul 6, 2018
Jul 6, 2018 at 7:50 PM UTC
When the first words out of his mouth was
"Sup *****
I knew a certain few things
1. He was not getting laid tonight.
2. None of us in this room know why he's the party leader,
All glancing at each other in awe
nodding like a hive mind chanting
yes, this man is in fact an *******
no, i don't know how he rose to power
yes, he did just call us *****
3. I could think of a million one liners that would earn me way more respect up front than that.
I don't know what I was expecting
walking into this basement
Maybe some small fame
The same small fame I get from getting on a stage for slam poetry
or being cast in a reality T.v. show
Or singing kareoke at my local bar.
Maybe for the free pizza
We've all been there.
And yes, maybe it was for the revenge.
the campaign slogan you stamped
recruitment posters with.
Join the evil league of evil!
Launch revenge against the modern heroes of today!
But when I sit down in this small fold up metal lawn chair,
in what is presumably his moms basement
Behind a projecter (also probablly his moms)
Next to captain nose bleed
And princess ********
I already don't have a whole lot of faith in his agenda
So when his opening line
Was "Sup *****
Like that is some sort of impressive villanous monolouge peared down into one and a half words.
I lost any ounce of faith I had in this cult.
And decided to Usurp this "Party Leader".
Now you might be asking:
Why?
Why would you want to be the head of the evil league of evil?
Founded in this pre pubescent boys moms basement
Whos only followers so far seem to be captain nosebleed,
and princess ********
Well
clearly
You don't understand.
Captain nosebleed is already under the thumb of princess ********
I mean lets be real without princess ********
We're three dudes in a basement
Pretending to be super villans.
And you've been known to be pretty charming.
But in your friends evil lair.
Sorry
Moms basement.
You start to evaluate your situation
Gotta make a descision.
Are you fighting for Revenge,
or the small fame?
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 2:53 PM UTC
eye cantaloupe
batshit Midas
writer's iambic
within usurp
ender's egret
wherewithal
nearly Mykonos
orangutan elsewhere
eye dye.
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 10:55 PM UTC
I've seen you there
amongst the lavender fields
when you thought no one was watching.
Memories that dance
a longing daydream,
weaving strings of lilac through my veins.
I knew you would plague me,
but my eyes supped upon you.
Supped and supped again
until lavished by an allure
a thousand French patisseries
could never usurp.
Your taste inspired madness -
a craze you too endured.
We turned over pages
and bewildered them with Eden's of ivy
that flourished within our skulls.
If Van Gogh were a writer
he'd write like us.
A fable of seraphic beauty
and lucid insanity,
knotted together
with existential philosophy.
"Being and Nothingness"
(Sartre understood)
but we were 50 years too late
to the Café de Flore.
Those were memories of yesteryear,
sealed with the rosy hue of antiquity
I was always fond of.
I can almost lick that scent of lavender
that clings to the photographs,
but I fear my tongue may bleed.
So I admire them on a mantelpiece
in a dust-soaked room
where all that I love
(and have loved)
may live.
I know that room not by daylight,
for I dare not be seen to enter.
Only the high rise moon knows
that those footprints
belong to me.
Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 6:27 PM UTC
Though thou did’st hear the tempest from afar,
And felt’st the horrors of the wat’ry war,
To me unknown, yet on this peaceful shore
Methinks I hear the storm tumultuous roar,
And how stern Boreas with impetuous hand
Compell’d the Nereids to usurp the land.
Reluctant rose the daughters of the main,
And slow ascending glided o’er the plain,
Till ****** in his rapid chariot drove
In gloomy grandeur from the vault above:
Furious he comes. His winged sons obey
Their frantic sire, and madden all the sea.
The billows rave, the wind’s fierce tyrant roars,
And with his thund’ring terrors shakes the shores:
Broken by waves the vessel’s frame is rent,
And strows with planks the wat’ry element.
But thee, Maria, a kind Nereid’s shield
Preserv’d from sinking, and thy form upheld:
And sure some heav’nly oracle design’d
At that dread crisis to instruct thy mind
Things of eternal consequence to weigh,
And to thine heart just feelings to convey
Of things above, and of the future doom,
And what the births of the dread world to come.
From tossing seas I welcome thee to land.
“Resign her, Nereid,” ’twas thy God’s command.
Thy spouse late buried, as thy fears conceiv’d,
Again returns, thy fears are all reliev’d:
Thy daughter blooming with superior grace
Again thou see’st, again thine arms embrace;
O come, and joyful show thy spouse his heir,
And what the blessings of maternal care!
2.1k
Alone in a snowy field,
Branches plead,
Moans lost in the wind
while flurries dance,
Heavy with fruit long since spoiled,
Mutinous apples cling,
Their coppery smirks
defy Persephone's call to plunge,
They hold tight,
Swelled with spongy pride,
Winter's swirling display fuels rebellion,
Their snowy caps worn with aplomb,
Parisian pommes de neige
usurp nature's order,
Flexing branches like Diana's bow,
A heart-shaped shadow in the wood,
Threatening to break,
While robins bide their time.
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 8:09 PM UTC
**This poem can be heard as a
Spoken word (read by me)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=
IoAeA6nYH5A**
There are some who fool around
With human DNA
They say it's a progessive step
For the world today.
The deciphered human genome
Is a plaything in their hands
Just a toy to then employ
And change the state of man.
"Change your child's DNA!
He's strong as a horse!
He can be, and he can see
Like a hawk, of course!"
Just like in the movies
They've conditioned us for that.
Vampires and werewolves
And woman morphed to cat!
We can all be cyborgs!
Robotic legs and things!
We can be like Batman
But with automated wings!
Let's just look at Genesis
Look at chapter 6
Those beast/man Nephilim
Did actually exist!
The Watchers came and mated
With human women fair
The Sons of God were demons,
So we'd best have a care!
God had to drown the demon-spawn
To save the human race
The waters flooded over them
And there was not a trace.
Now God found Noah perfect
For he had a pure bloodline
There was in him no change
From God's original design.
Now, folks, what will happen
When human beings aspire
To be like animals yet again?
This time there'll be FIRE!!!
What about our tender hearts?
Do they matter anymore?
The world's consumed with evil
You'd best know what's in store.
When we're no longer human
But have a cyborg mind
Will mankind ever be the same?
Godly? Loving? KIND?
Humans enslaved for weakness
Do you find that odd?
We will be a "Super Race"
Usurp the Will of God.
Will there be salvation?
Or will it be too late?
When men go and take the role
Of the God they hate?
Be glad that God loves us!
For we were made like Him.
He wants to take us from this place!
He wants us to WIN!!!
Is this all science fiction?
Watch the news! It's PLANNED!
Babies being altered
To unnatural lifespans!
Because of overweening pride
We mess with things divine
Enter human suffering -
EXIT HUMANKIND.
Jun 30, 2015
Jun 30, 2015 at 1:20 AM UTC
Ineffable: Too great or extreme to be expressed or described in words; Too sacred to be uttered.
-------------------------–-------—-------------------------------------------------------------
The whimpered cries of the dying
in the rubble of Bangladeshi avarice,
announcing we were worthy of life,
to which we think to ourselves,
agreed upon
with our,
a whispery, silent
amen.
The still alive cries of children,
tornado-tormented parents screaming unfair,
teachers body shielding their charges, whispering
save us Lord, from your inventive toys,
to which we think to ourselves,
a whispery, silent
amen.
But here comes the Oklahoma tornadoes again,
now four more dead in Houston,
selecting the innocent, the brave,
logic in any of this, none,
nonsensical at its worst
to which we think to ourselves,
a whispery, silent
amen.
~~~~~
The first I-am-alive cries
of new born lungs,
I have grandson, stain-less, perfect,
recovering in the stainless steel delivery room,
I hear the all babies in the neo-natal unit in unison
pronouncing a Hebrew blessing,
the Shecheyanu...
(Blessed are You, Lord our God, Master of the universe, who has kept us alive and sustained us and has brought us to these special moments)
to which we think to ourselves,
a whispery, silent
amen.
These unspoken poem devotions of adoration
of the sleeping chamber, that cannot
be heard or answered for they're dreamt and
perchance in the morning thankfully recalled,
enough to be transcribed,
to which we think to ourselves,
a whispery, silent
amen.
Ineffable.
A day, just another supplying an average day
to the mass of average.
Birth + Death = an average day.
I thank a God for the
birth of a newborn perfection
On this day the newspapers report
about silence of the God others pray to,
could be the same deity,
reporting that in his holy places,
Jew spits upon Jew,
Muslims usurp Christian lives,
all for none,
all forgetting in
whose image they were created.
to which we cannot say nor think
anything.
Ineffable.
too sacred to be uttered,
so instead of the paucity of these unuttered words,
know that each tear in
the reservoir of my eyes
is my unspoken poem prayer.,
my amen.
*Instead of answering
amen out loud,
wipe my eyes
with your fingertips,
silently.*
May 18, 2013
May 18, 2013 at 3:19 PM UTC
**Deception wearing the mask
of a kind face sowing dreams,
roamed for too long these towns,
around the globe,
that erupted with mortal force,
deciding at last enough is enough.
moneybags having stone faced elegance,
in place of heads, travel in their stretch limos
in the company of swindler princes,
wizards in money juggling
at the foyers of seven star hotels,
where the false suns dawn
at sunset blackening out truth,
they stepped to the tunes
holding hands of power,
the beauty without a heart
goes around with the plastic mask
that transforms according to the stage.
they who charm you with
glib talk and usurp power,
at favorable climes
jump upon unsuspecting
hotel maids, like
resurrected ghosts of vampires.
Every street is dark
with heaped carcasses
of hopes, birds died
at their flight, in ways mysterious,
falling in thousands,
in front of the stunned faces,
of lovers, husbands, wives,
families are looking distress
on the face, every passing day.
The octopus sitting at his
secret castle in water pulls string,
continues winning spree,
as no one raise their voice.
Not any more;
the waves of people,
seething with anger would lash,
against the citadels of evil empires.
The rebel forces have their cause,
this war, the eruption of masses,
will gather momentum, they won't lose.**
Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 10:24 AM UTC
Batter my heart, three-person'd God, for you
As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurp'd town to'another due,
Labor to'admit you, but oh, to no end;
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captiv'd, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly'I love you, and would be lov'd fain,
But am betroth'd unto your enemy;
Divorce me,'untie or break that knot again,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you'enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.
1.8k
An angel chief--the precentor of heaven's
Unequalled choir--silvery and dulcet was his
Voice afore the throne of God and his fold;
Lovely and fair his appearance was to behold.
Hearken to him as he the King's celestial
Hymns leads that give adoration to his especial
Majesty, making melody along with the angels
Whole, while praising Jehovah in awe dwells.
But how soon would this angel change and be
Clothed no more in chaste grace and glory,
Rather in pride and pity! I'm more than ye all
Who in paradise live. I'm the foremost of all
Beings. Who're archangels Michael and Gabriel
Compare to me, Lucifer, the only greatest earl?
I the highest and the best-- sovereign being--
That towers above Christ the Son begotten;
I'll even God usurp! I'm the most powerful
Here; the morn star that's blindly beautiful!
Haughtiness so into him entered as cupidity into
Judas. And began he to say things profane to
God his Creator, the Maker of all. And thus
War there was between the defector's caucus
And the Lord's host. Michael, who's the principal
Of warfare wherefore Lucifer--the evil cardinal--
Engaged. How fierce beyond a running pen
Was that battle unspeakble in God's holy haven
Seen betwixt the faithful and the rebel!
Yet good unflinching conquered the uprising evil
And cast Satan straightaway down unto the earth
With one-third of the angels from heaven's berth.
May 28, 2012
May 28, 2012 at 6:33 AM UTC
Fond woman, which wouldst have thy husband die,
And yet complain’st of his great jealousy;
If swol’n with poison, he lay in his last bed,
His body with a sere-bark covered,
Drawing his breath, as thick and short, as can
The nimblest crocheting musician,
Ready with loathsome vomiting to spew
His soul out of one hell, into a new,
Made deaf with his poor kindred’s howling cries,
Begging with few feigned tears, great legacies,
Thou wouldst not weep, but jolly and frolic be,
As a slave, which tomorrow should be free;
Yet weep’st thou, when thou seest him hungerly
Swallow his own death, hearts-bane jealousy.
O give him many thanks, he’s courteous,
That in suspecting kindly warneth us
Wee must not, as we used, flout openly,
In scoffing riddles, his deformity;
Nor at his board together being sat,
With words, nor touch, scarce looks adulterate;
Nor when he swol’n, and pampered with great fare
Sits down, and snorts, caged in his basket chair,
Must we usurp his own bed any more,
Nor kiss and play in his house, as before.
Now I see many dangers; for that is
His realm, his castle, and his diocese.
But if, as envious men, which would revile
Their Prince, or coin his gold, themselves exile
Into another country, and do it there,
We play in another house, what should we fear?
There we will scorn his houshold policies,
His seely plots, and pensionary spies,
As the inhabitants of Thames’ right side
Do London’s Mayor; or Germans, the Pope’s pride.
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