Ringing V

The Ringing of the Bards part V is now up at Cecilia's, and it is quite a performance. Please go on over and check it out. I will be hosting the affair next week so send any and all entries with links to bobhazelton AT hotmail.com by midnight friday with the subject 'carnival entry' and it will be up and ringing by the weekend. Until then I think it's time for a standing ovation for the current host - Bravo!!

Too Good?

This was inspired by a recent poem in my local paper about a proposed dump.

The courting scene can be a drag
while many look alluring
they seldom have the goods to bag
a profit that’s enduring—
attempts to salvage industry
should auger every angle
when carats of prosperity
bedazzle with their dangle.
Although Fred Sanford makes me smile
it doesn’t hurt to flirt with style.

Prologue

Well since I started this blog I have endeavored to post something new every day, after all that was one of my main reasons for starting it, to motivate myself to write, even if it's only a few lines a day. I have encountered some gifted and truly kind people that have been generous with praise and also with time. Everything takes time and often my time online is limited which results in my not being able to comment on a lot of stuff I read. But I do read and enjoy and marvel at the myriad forms of expression that are out there just waiting to be discovered. Tomorrow I will be posting up the ROTB VI and I want to thank everyone that has or will send in an entry, I am honored to be a part of something so huge. Once I post the ringing I will abstain from posting any new poems for at least a few days, if not the week. This is for my fellow writers and artists to shine (or should I say reverberate) and I salute you all. Plus a special thank you to Billy, Shirley, and Katy for helping ring up some interest, go check out their great stuff.

Nonreactive

Anachronic aspirations antiquate allusions
Catatonic correlations complicate confusions
Impolitic intimations instigate intrusions
Diametric demarcations designate delusions.

Cut the Cord

In the midst of blazing heat
concrete bruises tender feet
as unwashed masses loudly bleat
cut off from the metered teat.

Stymied without constant flow
helpless sans that vibrant glow
grounded with nowhere to go—
snip that humming cord and grow!

Yes, it’s time to finally wean,
tap resources much more clean
forget the era of machine
kill this growing sloth obscene.

Casualty

Jagged clumps of gory clay are fringed with smoke
which slithers among reminders of the fray
and curls up in the throat, causing one to choke.

Trenchant shards of patriotic fervor slay
all who get too close with government approved
ferocity, even some not in the way,

leaving these atrocities that may be moved
but whose fly encrusted condemnations reek
with spreading decay that is never behooved.

Rhetoric reverberates above the meek,
expressions of culture form a cool façade
disguising visceral rituals they wreak.

We bury our potential beneath the sod
a legacy of those who’ve spoken with God.

Ream

If all the paper
used for bills
demanding my remittance
was suddenly
transformed to cash
I’d have more than a pittance.

Ask Questions Now

Young Stefan snuck out early
before the sun would break
to make a quick excursion
picking flowers by the lake,
his Mother’s warnings echoed
oh what a fuss she’d make
but how her heart would buckle
so he hastened there to take
a handful of the brightest blooms
whose heady incense swelled
to fill his mind with fantasies
not easily dispelled
which caused him to ignore the sound
when vicious soldiers yelled,
and there within a muddy ditch
that precious waif was felled.

Saying Something?

Cultural cliche
nothing new to say
apathetic adages
replacing repartee,

freedom to express
aggravates the mess
speeding up the deficit
of true attentiveness.

Don't Tell Me How to Pray

I wouldn’t dare presume to plan your way
each mind is fit to follow it’s own star
so please, don’t ever tell me how to pray.

How easily the lonely heart can stray,
discouraged by a goal that seems too far—
I wouldn’t dare presume to plan your way.

Is your belief more potent; who can say?
The truth we cherish makes us what we are
so please, don’t ever tell me how to pray.

A Mecca to some holy land can sway
your searching soul to seek the highest bar;
I wouldn’t dare presume to plan your way,

I’ll recommend an option if I may
but you must find the door that is ajar.
So please, don’t ever tell me how to pray

and I won’t tell you where to go today.
Each path we take will leave a livid scar—
I wouldn’t dare presume to plan your way
so please, don’t ever tell me how to pray.

Another Spin?

Ten twirls around the crowded floor
and still the tune inspires
well worn shoes to waltz some more
before the band retires.

You let me lead, reluctantly
then gently sway in time;
my world revolves in front of me
unfathomed yet sublime.

Our partnership has persevered
to flourish as we prance,
all emptiness just disappeared
pre-empted by the dance.

Agent

The jungle has creatures that feed on the least
they prey upon dreams like a big shaggy beast,
with red dripping jaws they sloppily feast
until the unwitting are good and deceased—
the prudent adventurer seeks a strong hut
when carnivores craftily come for their cut.

Whirl

A tiny fragile crumpled leaf
is swirling in an eddy
reminder of the grand motif
cascading, ever steady;

from mountains down to endless sea
across the promised plains
the cycle flows eternally
beyond the day that wanes.

Arena

Aggression breeds unfocused hate
which left unchecked will escalate,
campaigns are waged within ourselves
the deeper this resentment delves
to brutalize the doe-eyed child
whose public death must be reviled.

Ring a Ling

The Ringing Of The Bards IV is up at the ever original Crunchy Weta, go have a look. Great job and thanks for your time and efforts Glenn!