Poem of 2024
ajay said:
Voting At The Bullet Box 💣🇺🇲💥
Upon American Election night,
as sitting here I slurp down cups of tea,
it would, I think, perhaps, be good to write
about what's taking place across the sea.
Will Donald win, become the President?
Will Harris make a dash and snatch the Crown?
Will Democrats be making sad lament
or will Republicans be feeling down?
Who cares! Whichever of the bastards wins,
the outcome's always just the bleeding same,
and soon another war somewhere begins –
the US f*cking A kicks off the game!
Whoever wins, please listen to my plea:
Don't war! Sit down and have a cup of tea. ☕
☕🙃☕
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=48Va4CyqjRk&pp=ygUMZnVjayBhbWVyaWNh
🇺🇲🩸🇺🇲🩸🇺🇲🩸🇺🇲🩸🇺🇲🩸🇺🇲🩸🇺🇲🩸🇺🇲
Are you a political animal, at all?
🚩
Nopes. Not interested in politics especially when it's not at/of/about my own country.
Maybe vaguely and mildly curious.
Voting At The Bullet Box 💣🇺🇲💥
Upon American Election night,
as sitting here I slurp down cups of tea,
it would, I think, perhaps, be good to write
about what's taking place across the sea.
Will Donald win, become the President?
Will Harris make a dash and snatch the Crown?
Will Democrats be making sad lament
or will Republicans be feeling down?
Who cares! Whichever of the bastards wins,
the outcome's always just the bleeding same,
and soon another war somewhere begins –
the US f*cking A kicks off the game!
Whoever wins, please listen to my plea:
Don't war! Sit down and have a cup of tea. ☕
☕🙃☕
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=48Va4CyqjRk&pp=ygUMZnVjayBhbWVyaWNh
🇺🇲🩸🇺🇲🩸🇺🇲🩸🇺🇲🩸🇺🇲🩸🇺🇲🩸🇺🇲🩸🇺🇲
Are you a political animal, at all?
🚩
Nopes. Not interested in politics especially when it's not at/of/about my own country.
Maybe vaguely and mildly curious.
Voting at the Bullet Box (part 2) 💥🇺🇲💣
Republican or Democrat 🟥🟦
whichever one of them should win 🏆
their promises will soon fall flat,
and then, of course, new wars begin, 💣💥
and next will come that World War Three 💣🌍💣
and then in one almighty boom 💥
the house in which we have to be 🌍🌏🌎
will not have any living room. ⚰️⚰️⚰️
💣🇺🇲💥
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=hZJRJpbGkG4&pp=ygUPd2FyIGVkd2luIHN0YXJy
🇺🇲🩸🇺🇲🩸🇺🇲🩸🇺🇲🩸🇺🇲🩸🇺🇲🩸🇺🇲🩸🇺🇲
Flowers on My hair
...I can't identify with that but then again, being passionate about something is being alive. I lost that somewhere along the way. My passion lives on in other ways
the golden haze of my youthful dream
life was such a gentle stream
loved flowers on hair nothing to hide
love and acceptance my guide
In my paddy fields so free
nothing stood in my zest for life
no tears or poverty
I was young eager and alive
our dreams should be for peace
let the age of love return
not for carnal desires to reach
let love be our stay in life's impending end
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PwY-Mt719_c
A True Story. (I even took that photograph 🙃)
An apple lay forgotten in the road.
No Eden there, just hard and stony grey.
No Eve or Adam's hand would come today
to pluck it from its cold and last abode.
Instead, decay would be that apple's fate,
a rotting, slow and sure, and sad to see.
No teeth would bite it, set its flavour free,
a wrinkled doom its end, a sorry state.
I walked on by, then stopped and turned around.
It looked so pretty, bright and fresh and green
against that cold and stony grey so mean,
I couldn't leave it lying on the ground.
I picked that apple up, intent to munch,
and, hungrily, I ate it for my lunch. 🙃
🍏
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=QFDp2b5TsNg&pp=ygUZdGhlIGdhcmRlbiBvZiBlZGVuIGx5cmljcw%3D%3D
🍏
Did you ever get your story about the minister written? I hope so. And did your muesli end up in the bin? Perish the thought. 🙃
🍎🍏
Stories
...many have been written...funny, sad, bad...
when its quiet at night
when shadows start to play
imaginations take flight
into strange landscape foray
another world spark bright
and my ink flows like a river
each stroke showing a sight
each sentence a creator
heroes and their tales yet untold
adventures of people in the days of old
shamans and gamblers and knaves
like fireflies weave into reality the fantasies
read closer and wonder
are you there among the crowd
the villain or the hero..?
both fragile and bold
come closer, hold up your lamp...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kv8zyBi4ZXk
you have a good eye
'His – er – Lamp Looks After Itself' 🍏
or
'If her next poem's again about grey days and cold nights, he's giving up and going home.' 🙃
or
A New Story. 👒
He sees her sitting there and hears her say:
'Are you a Villain? Will you break my heart
in two, abandon me some mournful day,
and from our rhyming song of love depart?
Come closer now and kiss me! Then I'll know.
A lover's kiss does not know how to lie.
Come closer now! To me your true love show
and let me see if lovelight's in your eye.'
She looks so lovely as she's sitting there,
her yellow dress, her honied skin of gold,
the tumbling tresses of her raven hair,
a woman whom he has to have and hold.
He sits beside her. Thigh to thigh they kiss.
No girl has ever made him feel like this. 🙃
The Kiss says: 'Villain I could never be!
To you a Hero I should always stay.
I'd slay your Dragons, you would surely see,
I'd bash your Monsters, make them go away.
I'd always make your muesli sweet and hot,
I'd bring your tea for you to drink in bed
and when you'd drank it, emptied that teapot,
then something nicer we would do instead. 😎
So take your pen and write me in your tale,
and know on me you always can depend.
A girl as sweet as you, I'd never fail,
I'd be your Hero to the very end.'
She kisses on and knows his kiss is true.
She kisses on – and knows! – as lovers do. 🙃
👒
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=6POZlJAZsok&pp=ygUSanVzdCB0aGUgdHdvIG9mIHVz
🍏🍎
Yer book's now in me possession.📗 I'll give it a few plugs on the site soon. Your poems are much better than his.
📗👒
Rain
It's raining outside
bucketing a cascade
looking out from my window
will it flood I wonder
tho I can't help but admire
the wonder of nature
the warmth and brightness
changing swiftly into greyness
... Away from home in a hotel room for write ups in the boondocks 🎶🌹☕
https://youtu.be/E310_bV4vEA?si=D77oWj6_Wu2r_dBB
It's raining outside
bucketing a cascade
looking out from my window
will it flood I wonder
tho I can't help but admire
the wonder of nature
the warmth and brightness
changing swiftly into greyness
... Away from home in a hotel room for write ups in the boondocks 🎶🌹☕
https://youtu.be/E310_bV4vEA?si=D77oWj6_Wu2r_dBB
The Dogs.
He turns the key that opens up his door
and all the dogs of home rush up and bark,
so glad to see him back, returned once more
from where he travelled on his merry lark.
He's pleased to see them, too, he loves them so,
and ruffles every shaggy doggy head.
He throws a ball for them and then they know
he's back to play their doggy games instead.
The problem, though, is this: a hairy hound
is well and good for fun, but poetry
demands a something soaring, less earthbound,
so what now will his poems' subject be?
He only knows that something's sadly lacking,
and then gets on with all of his unpacking. 🙃
🐶🐾🦴🐩🐕🐕🦺
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Inq1mnO2r8M&t=116s&pp=ygURc2NvdHRpZSByb2FkIHNvbmc%3D
🏠☕🌛
'Write-ups in the Boondocks' would make a great title for a poem 😎
Shenanigans
There's a lot to see
in this perfect scenery
though beyond the groves
and the line of trees
lies villages with stories to tell
all sorts of complaints
for the local authorities
to handle...
..she sighs. The Muse has flown to a better world faraway
https://youtu.be/-Jj4s9I-53g?si=3wbYOwSWy-eSiQMi
There's a lot to see
in this perfect scenery
though beyond the groves
and the line of trees
lies villages with stories to tell
all sorts of complaints
for the local authorities
to handle...
..she sighs. The Muse has flown to a better world faraway
https://youtu.be/-Jj4s9I-53g?si=3wbYOwSWy-eSiQMi
A Final Sad Song For Today. Tomorrow, A Poem About Football ⚽🙃
The skylark flaps his useless feathered wings
and tries to lift himself above the ground.
He wants to swoop where Shelley's skylark sings
and soars, the blue cathedral sky around.
He can't. A woman stole his singing heart
and broke his wings, as women often do,
and now amidst that blue no more he'll dart,
no more he'll fly as once before he flew.
But still he tries to sing, although in vain,
to sing his songs aloft in sapphire air,
but knows he'll never sing those notes again
the way he sang those sweetest notes for her.
His heart has gone; it's singing in the East.
Its song remains the same; it's never ceased.
👒
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=csWZTmpSmQs&pp=ygUHc2t5bGFyaw%3D%3D
😎
Your Muse and my Muse must have run off together. Sometimes it's like writing with glue.🙃
⚽⚽
Grace's Splendid Poetry Book ☝️
This is a poem 📃
about Grace's book. 📗
The book's a winner, 🏆
I've had a look. 👁️👁️
So, if you're thinking 🤔
you'd like to try it, 📗🤔
don't hesitate! ⚡⚡
Go out and buy it! 👍🙃
I did. 😎
📗
I'm reading the book pictured above☝️ and enjoying it muchly. Amongst other things, it contains 30 poems by Deep Underground's very own and wonderful Grace👒, a talented poet if ever I've read one. Should anyone be looking to read some excellent poetry, with a wide range of subject matter, obtainable at a very reasonable price, click on the link below and buy a copy. You won't be disappointed. 👍
Grace's book:
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Vampire-Squid-Killed-Printed-Periapt/dp/1542995159?dplnkId=91d54591-d0ec-4c3f-9192-8b167810204d
📗👒📕
