Imagine you’re the new (Post Wave) Poet Laureate of the US.
It’s your first gig at the (western) White House.
You’re reading from your first epic bit, entitled, ‘The Disappearance’.*
Gimme what you got, poets, it may be your only shot at mass market publication.
And don’t be too upset if I totally cut and paste your couplets in with somebodyelse’s.
Like William Burroughs used to do.
* For those poetically incline coming here from Twitter, the Disappearance is wot happened in my last book, Without Warning. One day, everyone in Nth America just Disappeared. Much post apocalyptic hilarity ensued.
Excellent work JB. I line my poet traps with sharpened stakes, but had never thought to bait one with kudos.
Hee:
And now for once, you must try to face the facts.
Mankind is kept alive by bestial acts.
Not a submission, but homage to the above named late, magnificently awful poet
I’m not a poet,
And I know it.
Hmmm…a challenge.
There once was a man from Nantucket…
which was lucky for him really since the Wave ate most of the rest of the US.
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Jen is soooo going to own this one. Mind you, Dr Y’s classical approach has merit.
Actually scratch that, for some reason I thought Nantucket was in Alaska.
There once was a man from Nantucket…
but now there isn’t.
I went to the loo
to do a big poo
when when I looked down
there was nothing to be found
surely a big plop
secures the dramatic plot
But sound is a sound
and there was no one else around
my hearing was declining, that is for sure
but the pressure and effort was for something more
else i wouldn’t have released such vile
so leaving the room I thought “Do I have piles?”
There once was a girl from Wasilla
The only survivor in a Techno Thrilla
She avoided the Wave
Not by being brave
But by being out on tundra with drillas
;-)
Jeez . . . .poetry, yet…..
Stuff that . . . .a concert.
Springsteens ‘Born in the USA’ . . .’The Devil came Down to Georgia’ . . . .AC/DC “Highway to Hell”. . . Jackson’s ‘Thriller’. . .’All Along the Watchtower’ . . .’Khe San’. . .a singing fat lady.
I couldn’t work in the 7th Cavalrys signature tune . . .Garry Owen. PIty . . .an allusion to Custer would have been cool.
I wake up everyday it’s a daydream
Everything in my life ain’t what it seem
I wake up just to go back to sleep
I act real cool but I’m in too deep
And all I care about is sex and violence
A machine-gun is my kind of silence
Y’all say I got to get a grip
But I let sanity give me the slip
(With Apologies to Dizzee Rascal)
Damn! haven’t read “Without Warning”. Sounds like it’s right up my alley.
From the cornfields of Iowa, silence…
From the plains of montana, silence…
From the streets of Chicago, wind…
Lady Liberty mute.
These now empty unquiet miles abhorrent
As if some giants hands pickd clean
Of life and vibrant ugly human kind
The voices gone the roads un traffickd
A twisted authors daydream horror
Now the dawn beyond a dream
Breaks daily and those left
Wish to forget
Shadows on the prairie,
Rustling in the grass,
A tree branch creaking in the breeze,
The Disappearance coming fast.
A boot print with no boot to fill it,
A empty, swinging tire,
A broken truck with none to drive it,
Resting in the mire.
The Disappearance comes, they say,
Not tomorrow, but yesterday,
As empty streets yawn on and on,
Yesterday, there is no-one.
No-one comes and no-one sees,
And no-one hears the creaking trees,
The night that falls is cold and dark,
The sky itself has grown stark.
There are no stars, nor moon, this night,
Because there is no living sight,
The Disappearance claimed it all,
The planet rests in deathly pall.
There is no sadness, nor alarm,
For those have vanished too,
There is no rising of the sun,
Because there is no me, or you.
There is no way to stop it,
No way to wind it back,
Because the very point of this,
Is that it all turns black.
Maya Angelou is rolling in her pile of gloop.
By The Darkman
The nation has gone
the mightest has fallen
the vultures circle and feed from the corpse,
Then from the west
where the liberals reside
the spirit abides
a nations staggers and stubles
and looks to the light
the dawn rises over the east
… Fergawdsakes JB, you earn the bucks, you fix it up
One day we woke up to silence
One day we woke up to emptiness
One day we woke up to chaos
Armageddon upon us
A holy war unleashed
The fortress breached from within
(to be continued)
We are the ones who have remained.
The ones that are here to see.
What we have become our world of the free.
We remember those that have gone.
But we dont feel we need to pine.
The world that has been created we will make stonger with time.
We will bring together those peoples of the world that are with us.
To ensure that this world is stronger in God we trust.
John just something off the top of my head I hope u like but “Without Warning” is a book that I cant stop thinking about. It is a book that will go down as a master in literature.
thx John
There was an old farmer from Young
Who made little balls out of dung
He’d shape them and roll them
And try to control em
By keepin’ them under his tongue
True story, well nearly true he kept maggots under his tongue when he went trout fishing but couldnt get maggot to rhyme with ‘ung’
Hope you written yourself into a corner with this one JB, I think epic poetry has seen its day after Tolkein croaked but a lofty ambition all the same
*He died with a techno-thriller in his hands*
Early one cold winter morning,
On the fridge we discovered a note.
The US had moved out without warning -
“Screw y’all, suckers!”, quote/unquote.
Though they’d left all the bills half-unpaid,
And dishes stacked-up in the sink,
We were not upset or dismayed,
For now there was more beer to drink.
Birmingham! First the insult to American “cowboys” – now the slight to American poets… Admit it; you hate the US. The wave is your way of dispensing of what you cannot have. What did the editors say about your “cowboy” cliches?
J.
John Lease, thx buddy. Quite like that opening line of yrs.
Men and women, children all
Millions of us vanished
Buildings burned and choked the earth
Our innocence was banished
With one fell swoop the wave destroyed
The lives and loves we’d known
Sweet Liberty and Uncle Sam
Unseated from their throne
But from the farthest point northwest
A light dawned bright and clear
Noble deeds and love prevailed
To drive away the fear
A shared resolve to build again
The country we revere
And when we’re done to not forget
The ones no longer here
SJS, that’s NO way to talk to the captain of your nation’s cricket team. Respect the baggy green red and blue stripy thing.
SJS : ‘What did the editors say about your “cowboy” cliches?’
Err..? . . .Yippee Kiyay? . . .err . . .Yeeha?
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Giddyup.
Classic quote ; “Yahh mule, yaah . . ‘ . . . .Y. Sam
We say to those who left us:
We Remain
We Rebuild
We Remember
America Abides
All right, like the rest, ya get this straight from head ta paper first draft.
Our Nation once strong, its still here today
The envy of some, others wish us away.
The wave, it arrived like a biblical menace
wrought terror, destruction, some called it penance.
But now its our time,
once more we shall shine.
With true friends discovered and our enemies defined.
Our Nations still strong, still proud, we’re not meek
With help from our friends, in time we shall peek.
Opportunity it knocks, we might wind back the clock, those things we did wrong, shall we re write that song.
This future , this plan , some say its too grand, but with toil and sweat we’ll rebuild our great land.
Hope, Faith aspiration we need, keep sowing those seeds of freedom, not greed.
As time trickles by, prosperity shall follow, but keep your gun close at hand, as you furrow and plan.
our Country, our freedom its all still at there, make it better, make it stronger, don’t ever despair.
Liberty and justice, free men we are still, the land of free men, hope glory and strong will.
I want to give it a shot, but am hella busy. Is there a time limit on this thing?
Coupla weeks.
‘Coupla weeks’
Prolly take that long for all the limericks to work out of our systems.
Havock’s effort deserves a gold star but . . .
The mental image of him sitting around composing this stuff is right entertaining. Personally I did all me better work in pole dancing clubs.(used to get free tickets . . .and snacks)
Reasonable.
can you lot stop rhyming?
that is just not on…
PNB..REASONABLE!….FUCKING REASONABLE. down right go dam generous I reckon, seeing as all the rest of us had a crack straight up, non of this bloody I’M BUSY SHIT, stop having them nanny naps during the day ya big god dam sook and get crackin, before we dispatch some …members to deal with ya. Poor form…very, very..very poor form
The joints been fucked over, I reckon ya could say. That sheet thing, the wave, its gone washed’em all away.
Yippe i shout, long with other here about, no bull shit, bad films and fucking about.
have a laugh, its them, not us thank fuck.
Just imagine the planet with the seppos still here, killing and burning, seems it bout all they know.
Can’t build cars, can’t run plants, fuck it up is there gift, that wave thing, OH YEAH, it gave the fuckers a short shift.
I guess we should help, not much, just a bit.
After all we all know, most yanks are just gits
I’d write you a poem, a masterful prose
laden heavy with words, that nobody knows.
Alas, I despair, I haven’t the time, I’m working my arse, thats why that I cry.
How long do we have, an extension if you please, my names PNB, I’m a god overseas.
I’ll return, after all, but I’ll check out the comp, get some ideas and maybe then write.
Alas, I’m bust, gotta run from this fight.
See . . .a little praise and there’s no shutting him up.
NAH…IT WAS PNB BRIAN..lol
Havock… the Rupert McCall of Bacchus Marsh.
Here would be placed an emoticon to suggest I mean that in good humour but as I believe emoticons are the currency of the stupid, I will refrain.
;-)
these last two blogs read quite blatantly as if you’re using the position to garner intellectual property, ie, other people’s ideas for your own use. this is not my criticism, by all means go for it. my criticism is that if that’s the intention, then go where the result will be exhaustive…these blogs won’t cut it
This has been one of the more fun pieces that I have read
A ditty about all of the Seppos turning up dead
A big “wave”, was what JB said…
Could only have been better, if done by Zed
Havock, you are a natural!
Michael, I really really like yours!
Uhhm . . . yeah . .. .hmm.
Houey sounds like he’s getting screwy.
Ahh . . .shoot . . .you got me talking in rhyme, i hate that . . .it tales time . . .y’know? . . . to stop the flow . . .
Our Debt of Duty
Fifty stars rest on the blue of our flag,
Forty seven rest in peace.
A triad of the young will stand tall
Where their elders have fallen,
And give their blood of freedom,
Proving through that long night,
Against all enemies,
Under rockets, under bombs and under Wave
That our flag is still there, Our land remains free,
Our people evermore brave.
These opening lines came pretty quick:
They had no warning.
Despite it calling
In whispers and a shout.
These opening lines came pretty quick:
They had no warning.
Despite it calling
In whispers and a shout.
We picked it up and ran with it, a mess we made, the norm. Go off we do, on tanged too, its what this mobs about
Thanks, Jen!
(found this challenge via Twitter – hope this is the right place for an entry!)
We mourn for those who are gone
For every loved one not beside us
For every hole in our lives
We hold the questions in our hearts
And even now, cling to slowly-fading hope
That one day we will understand
But we do not mourn America
There is no headstone for America
For America is more than the cities that lie silent
Crumbling towers and paper blowing in the streets
More than the cars abandoned on the interstates
Doors open as though every driver just got out and walked away
More than the empty houses with their photographs on the mantels
and the schools with their dust-covered desks
echoing with long-gone laughter
America is the memories we carry with us
and the dreams we will never give up
America is the strength of our hands
Reaching to lead each other out of the dark
America is every man, every woman, every child
Who says ‘we will not lay down and die’
Who says ‘we will rise again’
We do not mourn America
We are America