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3d · 33
Basho Crasho
Haiku is nothing.
It takes no talent to write
And boring to read.
But badhaiku dot com restores the fun
May 18 · 121
Scrawling Towards Zion
ConnectHook May 18
I'll write some
Vapid ****.
Check the stats.
Try to
Steer you towards
My serious compositions.
(Road signs)
.
Note my poor punctuation
May 13 · 71
Traditional Recipe
ConnectHook May 13
And you shall be a blessing.
I will bless those who bless you,
And I will curse him who curses you;
And in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed
.
                                                 Genesis 12:3

I’ll tell you straight what God is not:
A stench from Babylon’s deep pit—
So foul the angels gag on it.
Bubbling in Judah’s ***:
A nasty and unholy mess
Which poetry and truth confess
To be an anti-Christian plot.
Let Jews be Jews and churches saved;
(Yet most of them still seem depraved.)
Lift up the lid. See what they’ve got
Mixed in with all that steaming gore
And simmering rabbinic lore:
A stew of foul Talmudic rot
Recipe of perverse renown
From some Chaldean bearded clown
Who traded tittles for a jot
Of not-so-learned commentary
Straight from Kosher bestiary.
A pile of vile, and there’s a lot;
Extracting, from Mosaic law
Not gold—but filthy stable straw…
Is THIS what Abraham begot
To be a blessing for the earth?
Or Babylonian trash, not worth
Proverbial Hebrew diddly-squat…
https://worldeventsandthebible.com/talmud-jesus
May 5 · 71
Dreamcatcher
ConnectHook May 5
In habit for the chase array’d,
The hunter still the deer pursues,
The hunter and the deer, a shade
!
                   Phillip Freneau

Haunted by desire’s mad melodies,
By faces idealized in reveries;
Memory itself is haunted
By photos never taken.

To visualize is to be taunted
By scenarios that reawaken,
Longing for what has never been,
Yet what the mind has seen.

The haunted are mistaken,
Hunting memories and dreams;
Trying to catch that which vanishes
upon awakening. Doomed to realize
That the hunted bird ever flies.
PROMPT #17:
What are you haunted by,
or what haunts you?
Write a poem responding to this question.
Then change the word haunt to hunt.
May 5 · 45
Refuse
ConnectHook May 5
Garbage by the wayside…

What is wrong with this town
this city, this nation?
Who are the ones
that fling/drop/scatter it there?
Are they self-aware?
Do they have worth?

Ugly artifacts stare up at me
from the gutter.

I read ripped labels,
avoiding shattered glass.
Bags blow past.

Spring doesn’t care,
flowering in and through the trash.

Dead animal carcass, pierced
By brilliant green weeds . . .

The Lord is He is to whom we are accountable
and He reigns in sovereign omnipotence.
PROMPT #15:
write a poem in which you closely describe
an object or place,
and then end with a more abstract line
that doesn’t seemingly have anything to do
with that object or place,
but which, of course, really does.
May 5 · 40
Cave of the Clown
ConnectHook May 5
As our craft approached the island's coast, the swelling sea grew rough. Every eye on board was wide watching the darkened beach. We rounded the bluff. The nervous crew began to perceive a stench from a yawning chasm in the hill that no night wind, no downpour could quench. The rain ceased. The moon came forth like noontide from behind her veil of cloud, bathing in ghostly light the seaside; and the night sky at last began to allow increasing illumination, no longer overcast. All on board could tell that a foul shadow, something sickly-sour, emanated from entrance of the hillside bower, and closer view of the pit forced even the captain and officers to admit that the hanging cadaver, head still bearing the crown, was the withered and rotting body of the clown. The crowd of sailors strained and jostled to see: in the moonlight, even from a distance, the clown's face in its grimace appeared strangely proud . . .
We knew the members of the first mission were all gone now—no need to excavate the bodies in the cave. The purpose of the hanging corpse, to motivate us to abandon the encounter was successful. We anchored the vessel  near the foot of the looming summit, and prepared to mount her.
PROMPT #13:
Start by creating a “word bank” of ten simple words. They should only have one or two syllables apiece. Five should correspond to each of the five senses (i.e., one word that is a thing you can see, one word that is a type of sound, one word that is a thing you can taste, etc). Three more should be concrete nouns of whatever character you choose (i.e., “bridge,” “sun,” “airplane,” “cat”), and the last two should be verbs. Now, come up with rhymes for each of your ten words. Use your expanded word-bank, with rhymes, as the seeds for your poem. Your effort doesn’t actually have to rhyme in the sense of having each line end with a rhymed word, but try to use as much soundplay in your poem as possible.
rough/bluff
stench/quench
noontide/seaside
last/overcast
sour/bower
pit/admit
clown/crown
crowd/proud
excavate/motivate
encounter/mount her
May 5 · 64
Taxed and Spent
ConnectHook May 5
Since the US war-machine needs my taxes
to bomb poor people who live far away,
Since few people in my overweight low-info uncivilization
know or care about that,
Since plebeian culture has permeated
and is now acceptable throughout society,
Since I have no influence or control over these factors
to change the outcomes,
Since God is sovereignly ruling and reigning
over all aspects of everything,
Since our leaders do not care
about the stability or well-being of the masses,
Since polarization intensifies every day
as we become a decadent empire,
Since poetry is the epitome of uselessness
and art is reduced to commodity,
Since pharmaceutical corporations
want to keep people drugged and passive—

Therefore, I will cease to worry about outcomes
that are beyond my ability to change,
and I will pay my taxes, for the time being . . .
PROMPT #14 : write a poem of at least ten lines
in which each line begins with the same word.
This technique of beginning multiple lines with the same word or phrase is called anaphora […]
May 5 · 44
Alien Admin.
ConnectHook May 5
The alien who is among you shall rise higher and higher above you,
and you shall come down lower and lower. 
He shall lend to you, but you shall not lend to him;
he shall be the head, and you shall be the tail
.
                                                          ­   Deuteronomy 28:43

Doctor Prasad, Doctor Prasad
You bow to a freaky six-armed god,
Yet chose to leave your native land
And worship in the U.S.A.

Your Hindu religion is rather odd—
Consider my verse a gentle ****.
Those molten idols creep me out;
I'll poke you in a truthful way.

This newly-discovered Upanishad
With trident (in place of Aaron's rod)
Will show you where you need to go.
And greater light to you relay.

You bow to idols, silly sod...
I'll stomp your arrogance roughshod.
Eat the puja that you offer—
***** rupees to the dollar.

What a ridiculous façade.
You mumble, then politely nod—
Data-driven petty tyrant:
Drink from my verse's fire hydrant.
May 1 · 40
Brandon the Bold
ConnectHook May 1
Rim-walker, Foe-slayer, Guardian of the sword—
Beast-breaker, War-bringer: BRANDON of the blade
Who slew the dreaded dragon ‘ere the sun had reached the noon;

Bear-baiter, Snout-smasher, Keeper of the Axe—
World-tamer, Science-truster BRANDON of the gaffe
Who slurred the teleprompter’s truths until the mic was off;

Arms-seller, Drone-striker, Valiant war-pig Puppet—
Tax-raiser, Gender-******, BRANDON of the press
Who stumbled up the White House stairs, starting useless wars;

Let every mead-hall hail the clown
And toast his name throughout the land.
Raise high the horn in dread renown
And bravely feast in BRANDON‘s name!
PROMPT #30
write a poem in which the speaker is identified with,
or compared to, a character from myth or legend
Apr 30 · 53
Afro-Stuart Succession
ConnectHook Apr 30
From streetcorner pulpits near and far.
We’re watering wisdom’s seed with fear.
If your melanin’s under par,
Slave-trader heathen, listen here:
God’s own holy unpronounceable name
Now translated for you: Whites Are To Blame.

King JAMES was black. You heard it first
From me—before those Israelites
Began to preach to the accursed
Of Edom (meaning heathen whites).
So, his authorized text is meant
Only for those of true Hebrew descent.

No flaming redhead Scottish king
Was he who bore Azania’s crown
Upon his brow. It’s time to bring
The truth. James Stuart? Dusky brown.
No bagpipes here, nor usquebaugh, nor oats.
Just afro-polyrhythm’s gladsome notes.

Mansa Musa filled his coffers;
Sub-Saharan James grew wealthy;
More than Solomonic offers
Kept King James both wise and healthy.
No puppet monarch for Britannic schemes
But African sage, of vision and dreams.

ELIZABETH, of Albion’s fame,
Was also misperceived for hue.
A white rose, yes. But only in name.
Pure African was she—it’s true!
You’ve been lied to about these royal folks;
High time we rewrite such ethnic jokes.

Don’t believe the Edomite hype.
They want to keep our tribes suppressed--
And Moses is our prototype;
His law we follow, and we’re blessed.
REAL understanding: it’s something you earn.
Once gained, ain’t no trick you cannot discern.

No context needed. History
Is mainly Edomite propaganda.
King JAMES was black. No mystery.
And Edinburgh’s in Uganda.
The first king of Scotland will not be last…
Our exegesis is unsurpassed.
usquebaugh: noun
A compound distilled spirit made in Ireland and Scotland; whisky.
Apr 28 · 31
Lost Rhythm
ConnectHook Apr 28
      The ACCUSATION

Your verse has offended the Muses. The blame
Must be laid on your poetry: limping and lame
As it drags itself over the last crippled line;
A dead-end for your readers (but you missed the sign).
Your scrawling has challenged the unwritten code
And it’s far more than meaning your readers are owed…
We need RHYTHM with ORDER and measured RESTRAINT;
More range in your palette might help you to paint
Us a picture where color and nature, enhanced
With the music of syllables leave us entranced.
But instead, all your verbiage has put us to sleep,
For your lines are as shallow as Boredom is deep.


       The ARGUMENT

Rhythm is ORDER and order is key.
It is only through measure that music is free
An offense to the Muses, depressing to hear,
Is a verse without rhythm, insulting the ear.
Lyric STRUCTURE brings LIBERTY. Freedom gives life.
Free verse?  Oxymoron—and morons are rife.
Confessional slop . . . yes it’s free, like a prison;
But MEANING grows clear in the service of reason.


       The JUDGEMENT

Your poetry’s up for the yearly review:
Mostly sighing and dithering. Sorry, it’s true.
Your muses are clueless, so send them all packing.
Your modernist drivel is found to be lacking
In context, coherency, substance and wit.
Upon careful re-reading, the Verdict: it’s ****.
As regarding the rambling verse you call “free”,
A real Muse, unimpressed by your English degree
Would imprison your lines and then throw out the key.
Apr 26 · 48
Constant Assonance
ConnectHook Apr 26
adipose asinine America:

beastly yeast in obscene obesity
swell-swigging wig-gagging reflex
exposed midriff ****-lift grifters
wiggle-waddling weight around woo woo town
thick fake fingernail fail
day-glo sick show sale
ghetto-guffaw designer-clawing
wherever wits were wanting
jiggle-giggling juvenile thing in a thong
sing song sung ******* thang sang
pajama-jamming baby-daddy mammy
loudmouth proud plebe crowd
smirk-smoke the joke in cannabis choke
crass fat ***-crack blackjack
queer queen king thing of a
bipolar solar son of a
******* in hyped-up lowlife lockdown
cluelessly curating dimwitted day
descending darkly to dusk.

You GO, girl.
PROMPT 26:
write a poem that involves
alliteration, consonance, and assonance.
Alliteration is the repetition of a particular consonant sound
at the beginning of multiple words.
Consonance is the repetition
of consonant sounds
elsewhere in multiple words,
and assonance is the repetition of vowel sounds.
ConnectHook Apr 25
Perfect happiness’ greatest fear?
The Other is deplorable.
Extravagance is insincere;
Proust’s mustache is adorable.

I’m only up to number seven.
Uninspired, its time to bail
If Marcel P. was barred from heaven
His essays were a massive fail.

Marcel Proust, you silly fellow
Prose overwrought, effete and gay,
Puffy mama’s boy marshmallow
You’re Hell’s to toast . . . now roast away.

May virtue’s signalers all thus burn;
This uninspiring questionnaire
Will mainly cause one to discern
That heads are up their derrière.

True verse can never be a list
Of humanistic questions asked.
More fit that some psychologist
Should have their godless soul thus tasked.
PROMPT 25:
write a poem based on the Proust Questionnaire,
a set of questions drawn from Victorian-era parlor games,
and adapted by modern interviewers.
You could choose to answer the whole questionnaire,
and then write a poem based on your answers,
answer just a few, or just write a poem that’s based on the questions.
Apr 24 · 42
Satanic Redundancy
ConnectHook Apr 24
On a starred night Prince Lucifer uprose . . .

Networking, presenting the numbers
Adjusting the data for benchmarks
Reviewing best practices
Speaking vapid motivational drivel
Accompanied by pastel-toned slideshows
Full of dull corporate graphics—

   On a starred night Prince Lucifer uprose . . .

Acting with intention
Staying centered
Celebrating balance and cultivating awareness
Curating selfless acts of charity
(yet still suppressing God at heart)
Being connected in authentic community—

   On a starred night Prince Lucifer uprose . . .

Believing in yourself to achieve your goals
Seeking your own inner light to guide you
Recognizing how deserving you are
Working towards what makes you happy
(denying there will be a judgement of your soul)
Creating your own reality—

   On a starred night Prince Lucifer uprose . . .
PROMPT 24:
write a poem that begins with a line from another poem, but then goes elsewhere with it.


Lucifer in Starlight

ON a starred night Prince Lucifer uprose.
Tired of his dark dominion swung the fiend
Above the rolling ball in cloud part screened,
Where sinners hugged their spectre of repose.
Poor prey to his hot fit of pride were those.
And now upon his western wing he leaned,
Now his huge bulk o’er Afric’s sands careened,
Now the black planet shadowed Arctic snows.
Soaring through wider zones that pricked his scars
With memory of the old revolt from Awe,
He reached a middle height, and at the stars,
Which are the brain of heaven, he looked, and sank.
Around the ancient track marched, rank on rank,
The army of unalterable law.

George Meredith (1828–1909)
Apr 24 · 52
Wonder Womb-person
ConnectHook Apr 24
Ready for any feminist feat
In her ****-tube and starry skirt,
Wonder-Woman looks petite
(though probably ought to don a shirt)
In, fact we’d better make her black
Before her foes, unhinged, attack . . .

Go-go boots show off her legs
Muscled for emancipation;
And for bearing wonder-eggs
Through empowered ovulation.
Binary gender’s warrior queen
Bursts forth upon our sexist scene,

And bristling with the strength of ten
Of her not-so wondrous sisters,
She centers red-starred crown, and then
She’s off to fight the truth’s resisters:
Rosie the Riveter’s better half—
An old-school feminist sacred calf.
NaPoWriMo 2024
Prompt #23:
write a poem about, or involving, a superhero
Apr 22 · 36
Conjugal Musings
ConnectHook Apr 22
I wish that, philosophically,
I could commune with my dear wife . . .
Instead, we biologically
Against all odds, amidst the strife,
Pursue one therapeutic end
Where pleasures, with relief, descend.

I wish we could discuss the arts—
Talk poetry and invoke the Muse.
In place of that, by fits and starts,
We thrill to what we can’t refuse:
Theory made practice, sweaty, hot…
Conjecture spurned for what we’ve got.
Couldn't take the NaPoWriMo prompt today...
Apr 21 · 42
Tyrian Murex
ConnectHook Apr 21
One who heard us was a woman named Lydia,
from the city of Thyatira, a seller of purple goods, 
who was a worshiper of God
.        Acts 16:14 [ESV]

I'll say it straight to Alice Walker's face:
Veil for prostitutes and genderqueer beasts—
A color fit for hierophants and priests;
Symbol of both the decadent and base.
A hue unfit for tablecloths at feasts . . .
Scarlet is regal. Blue, too, has its place.
Let Thyatiran Lydia state her case,
But purple celebrates strange swelling yeasts.
No fault in bordering on indigo
As long as chroma stays within the blue.
But mix it up with red? Don't do it. No.
Yet, good contrast to yellow's golden grail . . .
What says the holy humble Murex snail?
Feel me: PURPLE is not the way to go.
Prompt 21:
write a poem that repeats or focuses on a single color.
Apr 21 · 38
Jerusalem Limericks
ConnectHook Apr 21
70 A.D.

History comes back to bite us
As we learn of the temple and Titus.
When it's Rome against Jews
There is one side must lose—
Though the outcome may fail to delight us.


135 A.D.

Another rebellion: once more
They attempted to settle the score.
Since “messiah” Bar-Kokhba
(Right up to the Nakba)
The region relapses to war.
PROMPT 20: write a poem that recounts a historical event.
Draw on your memory, encyclopedias, history books, or primary documents.
Apr 18 · 129
Salmo Amateur
ConnectHook Apr 18
Parece comedia aburrida
La farsa de mi vida;

La mía no tiene sentido
Casi caso perdido,

Todavía no elaborado,
Desesperado.

Preferiría ser
Una idea antes de nacer;

Así no tendría
Que ver otro día . . .

Ayúdame, oh Creador:
Tú—mi narrador.
PROMPT 18:
write a poem in which the speaker expresses the desire to be something else, and explains why
Apr 16 · 44
Language Stamped Out
ConnectHook Apr 16
******* children can be helped, you say
Your words, not mine; and so I must respond.
Such ideas are phrased differently today;
******* children can be helped, you say—
To use such terms for cognitive delay,
Of this, when young, we schoolyard kids were fond.
******* children can be helped, you say . . .
Your words, not mine. To such I must respond.
PROMPT #15:
take a look at @StampsBot (https://twitter.com/StampsBot),
and become inspired
by the wide, wonderful, and sometimes wacky world of postage stamps.
Apr 13 · 34
Tall Tale Told
ConnectHook Apr 13
I’ll tell you-all a tale of Crazy Joe:
How he and his son did a-hunting go
Bidin’ their time till the prey was killed
And every hunter’s dream fulfilled.

Joe saw a dragon in the sky
And loaded his rifle. By and by,
Big Joe shot that Chinese dragon;
Hitched its head to his harvest wagon,
Used its wings to make a plane
Then flew himself to far Ukraine.
He took our taxes, started wars
Raised the prices and settled scores,
Set up bio-labs, armed the thugs
While his son was busy taking drugs.

Joe had barely finished shootin’
When from the North came an angry Putin.
Big Joe whooped that Russian bear
Skinned its fur to line his chair;
Took its claws to scratch his back
Called the whole mess “a cyber-attack”,
Then Joe resolved his son’s affairs
While stumbling down the White House stairs.

Hard-drivin’ Hunter took up art
And painted over that “election” part.
All Joe’s handlers, North to South,
held their breath when he opened his mouth…
Father and son got plenty of press
Down at their Washington address,
After they painted the Whitehouse black
And laughed when we asked for our country back.
Wiser than Solomon was Joe
At taking in the foreign dough,
And cutting deals to line his pockets
Providing bombs and arms and rockets.
Joe talked tough to Israel
And gave those proud Yehudis hell—
But sold them weapons on the sly
While the world wondered why.

Build back better? Come on, man . . .
A Pentagon puppet for their plan.
Big Joe himself: the tallest tale
Administrating massive fail.
PROMPT 12: write a poem that plays with the idea of a “tall tale.”
American tall tales feature larger-than-life characters…
Apr 11 · 34
Brandon Afloat
ConnectHook Apr 11
BRANDON cranes his scrawny neck
Sniffing for a business deal;
Sailors gather on the deck
Murmuring with mutinous zeal…

They’re bailing water from the hull,
Throwing ballast off the stern—
Captain BRANDON’s brain, half-full
Of shipping schemes, begins to churn.

Sensing profits in the ocean,
BRANDON observes the cresting swell.
In his faltering mind, a notion
Starts to form, and none can tell . . .

Fearing for their captain’s health,
The dwindling faithful check his pulse.
Sensing oceanic wealth,
His ****** muscles now convulse.

Then, hark—a mermaid’s silvery voice
Appeals to BRANDON from the sea:
Come to me captain; you’re my choice.
I’ll launder money here for free
.

“Man overboard”! the sailors shout
As BRANDON flails upon the waves.
Captain’s handlers harbor doubt—
Yet throw the lifeline. Jesus saves.
"Sewing to Rip"

My monostich unraveled when challenged to have poetic meaning and relevance.

PROMPT #11: write a monostich, which is a one-line poem
ConnectHook Apr 6
Weird wisdom: attractive to some.
While to others, quite clearly, just dumb.
Mystic truth from the East?
Ask your guru. At least
He will sell you a mantra to hum . . .

Western Buddhists: they talk very Zen;
And they placate our Japanese yen
For satori. (and sake);
It’s fake sukiyaki—
The food they prepare, such wise men…

But the weirdest of all of these sages
Is the fake tantric monk who engages
His female pupils
In sin, with no scruples,
And little regard for their ages.
P R O M P T #6 :
write a poem rooted in “weird wisdom”
Apr 4 · 116
Queer Fish, Definitely
ConnectHook Apr 4
Through varied ocean habitats
Queer fish, shimmering, roam the range.
Bewildering diversity
To us, on land, appears quite strange.

From Goby to the great Whale Shark,
Their weight can rise to twenty tons!
Such queer fat whales—one might remark;
(but this offends the skinny ones...)

Some are bloodthirsty; others timid.
They burrow, swim, walk, fly, breathe air...
Do not irritate. Leave them placid
To their submarine affair.

Aquatic warning/parting wish:
Avoid the highly venomous fish.
There are more than 40,000 kinds of fish in the world.
Their habitats range from the profoundest depths of the seas to cold lakes and brooks on mountain timberlines.
They show a bewildering diversity in their ways of life.
The smallest of fish is a Philippine goby, less than a third of an inch long and weighing a fraction of an ounce.
The largest is the whale shark, found in all warm seas. Some individuals exceed twenty tons.
Some fish burrow in the mud, some swim, some walk, some fly, some breathe air.
Some are timid, some bold and bloodthirsty. Some are placid, some easily irritated. Some are highly venomous.
One, found in Australian waters, weighs nearly half a ton and has poison barbs a foot long.
Some of the deadliest are among the most beautifully colored.

PROMPT #4
write a poem in which you take your title or language/ideas from
The Strangest Things in the World. First published in 1958, the book gives shortish descriptions of odd natural phenomena, and is notable for both its author’s turn of phrase and intermittently dubious facts.
ConnectHook Apr 4
The shock of nothing new is so surreal;
Rebellion filters down and fades away
In images that T-shirt merchants steal.
The shock of nothing new is so surreal!
Nor Freud nor Marx can anything reveal,
And Maldoror has nothing more to say.
The shock of nothing new is so surreal—
Rebellion filters down and fades away . . .
NaPoWriMo PROMPT #3:  write a surreal prose poem

Umbrella to sewing machine on dissection table: I salute you, old ocean/Breton scorns Hippies/Semi-automatic writing bursts from deviant posers in suits and ties/Euro-egghead Marxist manifestos/Hughes was right/the New no longer shocks/who reads Lautréamont?/surreal like a permanent collection at the Whitney/Breton scorns anarchists/politically incorrect smoke fills café/Man Ray meets Apollinaire at debutante ball/nightclub for nihilism’s fools/Dada’s brooding child/Artaud screams Van Gogh! as they forcibly administer antipsychotic meds/subconscious dreams of inevitable commodification/expect predictable juxtapositions/Breton scorns punk-rock/revolutionary footnotes to an arts thesis/who even reads Maldoror ?/dregs of surrealism sold as T-shirts/waiting-room posters/hip postcards/neurosis celebrated/cerebrated/fetishized/fades
Apr 4 · 51
CHRIST IS KING
ConnectHook Apr 4
RIGHT KISS INC
GR SIN IS THICK
KITSCH RISING
ST NICKS HI RIG
SICK NIGHT SIR
KNIGHT CRISIS
SIN SICK RIGHT
IS GRINCH SKIT
KING **** SIR C
STINK HIS C RIG
HISSING TRICK
STRIKING HIS C
RICK SINGS HIT
RICH GITS SKIN
S RISING THICK
C RISKING THIS
THICK SIN RIGS
ICK HIS STRING
TRICKS IN HIS G
HISS TRICKING
NGH CRISIS KIT
RISKS ITCHING
I STRING CHIKS
SHIRKING TICS
SICK HI STINGR
SINK RIGHT CIS
NICKS GI SHIRT
If you discover more combos,
or if I miscounted letters,
tell me below
Apr 2 · 40
Into Your Light
ConnectHook Apr 2
Poetry, when we first met
(I was too young to read back then…)
Your gifts were gold, and mine the debt.
My childhood was enriched again
And I grew older, full of hope;
I was not yet a misanthrope.

You intimated truths divine
And so I followed in your ways.
Hypnotic flame, I made you mine
To guide me in my dull, dark, maze;
Deep in a cavern, unaware—
Until you led me out of there.

Your lyric beams, whose light is sure
Discerned my unpoetic state.
Shining from realms where thought is pure,
You gave me sight, unlocked the gate.
Some despise your ancient beauty—
Others heed your call of duty.

Loosed from the cave, in sunlit weather,
Freeing souls from those sad regions,
Muse of mine!  We fight together;
Mocking dullness, slaying legions.
You (and Plato) are owed the thanks.
Guide us rightly. Lead the ranks.
write a platonic love poem, not about a romantic partner,
but some other kind of love –
The poem should be written directly to the object of your affections,
and should describe at least three memories
of you engaging with that person/thing.

National Poetry-writing Month
(NaPoWriMo) day 2
Apr 1 · 52
Beneath the Willows
ConnectHook Apr 1
Lost that dull plot so many years ago,
Some guy named Heathcliff, a prim, proper room;
Something dark on the moors portending doom—
(No, wait—that was “Baskervilles”, different show).

A wuthering woman, her savage beau—
A conflict with tradition, hearts in thrall;
Romantic English swoons. Forgot them all
While seeking the plot beneath a willow.

Catherine? Constance? The heroine’s name
Escapes me evermore, and I don’t care.
A Brontë sister here receives the blame

For boring me with chick-lit and hot air.
That’s all I can recall. The novel’s fame
Would indicate there must be something there . . .
PROMPT #1:
write a poem that recounts the plot, or some portion of the plot, of a novel that you haven’t read in a long time.

A poem a day for APRIL !
Dec 2023 · 150
No Sanctuary
ConnectHook Dec 2023
Liberals love them—then they don’t.
And live to help them (till they won’t).
Neighbors fresh from Guatemala;
Salvador or Nicaragua…
Fleeing failed drug-plantations
U.S-sponsored situations;
Where corruption harvests fruits,
Doling out the business suits.
United Fruit Co. on the skids
Allen Dulles’ ******* kids . . .
For Arbenz overthrown, and worse
Our wicked past has caused this curse:
The training/arming of their thugs
Snorting about a War on Drugs…
Inform yourself on how this started
You, so smugly openhearted:
Aid diversity’s expansion—
House them in your sumptuous mansion.
Not to cut your grass, or build
but more to get their dream fulfilled
Since Allen Dulles owns the guilt
Destroying when we should have built
And sending troops to bananeros,
Lauding them as valiant heroes
For repressing Mayan peasants:
Help them now unwrap their presents.
Oct 2023 · 295
Fakery (haiku)
ConnectHook Oct 2023
Fake news is not good.

But there is something much worse . . .

And that is Fake Jews.
Inspired by by Shlomo Manischewitz,
renowned scholar of Talmud and Kabbalah
https://youtu.be/JS84NSDkctM?si=Wo5hXWZe2dXxDEzr
Oct 2023 · 64
Palestinian Limericks
ConnectHook Oct 2023
This feud among Abraham's sons
Has the goyim all loading their guns
To defend godless Zionists.
Prudent apologists
Will not take sides--anyone's.

Ashkenazis are claiming the land
To promote a new Globalist brand.
Though their zeal is Davidic,
An antisemitic
Reaction may soon be at hand.

Unprovoked is the term that you use
To disparage alternative views.
You oppressed them for years.
Now the worst of your fears
Has exploded the Middle East news.

When the terrorist thugs take control,
It's a challenge to see that their role
Is divine retribution;
Such ****** confusion
Should cause you concern for your soul.
https://www.bitchute.com/video/5tPwpjw3JR00/
Oct 2023 · 102
Ecclesia
ConnectHook Oct 2023
Church of Dead-Jesus-on-a-Stick;
Church of hierophant headgear;
Church of mincing around in purple vestments;
Church of get the choirboy in the rectory;
Church of Mary-this and Mary-that;
Church of turn your back to the congregation
mumbo-jumbo move vessels around;
Church of suppress the scriptures;
Church of hoarded religious art
where Christ looks like
an effeminate pink duke;
Church of what's in Vatican vaults;
Church of cut a deal with gangsters;
Church of burned at the stake
most everyone
who wanted to be Christian;

Behold the True Church.
Mother of Harlots and Abominations, etc.
Sep 2023 · 80
Rome 52 A.D.
ConnectHook Sep 2023
Sworn to **** the Church (or at least forestall),
Reviling Jesus, Christians, and Saint Paul,
The Pharisees finally blow their cover.
Things in Rome are starting to boil over;
Vesuvian rumblings portend Pompeii . . .
Judah await their Messianic day—
       But Claudius plans to expel all Jews . . .

Hateful superstitions cloud their views:
Torah with Talmud their rabbis confuse.
Not-so-Abrahamic agitation
Fails again to unify the nation;
Waiting for Moses/Elijah/David
Some expectations are waxing fervid
       And Claudius moves to disperse the Jews.

Zionist riots make the nightly news
Every Roman synagogue now must choose:
Goyim government tells them to desist—
Caesar demands incense—and some resist.
For subversion (or just causing trouble)
Imperial power rewards them double.
       Meanwhile, Claudius expels the Jews.

Failing empire demands what saints refuse;
They wait for Babylon to pay her dues . . .
Forced to pack up and leave, all Israel flees.
No plagues, no Passover, no exit fees.
Like Lot, they had to leave in a hurry;
Enriched by God in interest, gold and worry.
       Now why would Claudius banish all the Jews?

Stand historically in Josephus’ shoes.
Rabbis babble on while Rome’s legions lose . . .
Empires die. It’s agonizingly slow.
You think it happened suddenly—but no.
In retrospect, not different from today.
And History will have the final say:
       Why then did Claudius expel the Jews?
Acts 18:2
And he found a certain Jew named Aquila, born in Pontus, who had recently come from Italy with his wife Priscilla (because Claudius had commanded all the Jews to depart from Rome) . . .
Aug 2023 · 122
HP is chatbot-driven
ConnectHook Aug 2023
I do not care to
interact
with chatbots.

What a fake poetry site....
Jul 2023 · 125
G. Stein: Badly Aged Wine
ConnectHook Jul 2023
Gertrude Stein, you unreadable *****;
Lie back in your sty and I’ll scratch your itch.
I’ll water your trough so you can swill
Vapid verbiage till you’ve had your fill.
Your abstract expressions, while short of profound,
Could almost drive me to Ezra Pound…
Roll over in hell. You’re a rambling twit.
I’m Alice B. Toklas-ed, and tired of it.
Roll over, I say. Let them roast you some more;
Demons agree—you’re a well-lettered BORE.
They destroyed the common use of language.
Normal ways of using words bored them.
They wished to use words in a new, sensational fashion.
They twisted grammar, syntax.
                                         (Michael Gold: The New Masses)
https://writing.upenn.edu/~afilreis/88/stein-per-gold.html
May 2023 · 118
Itz About MEE
ConnectHook May 2023
Oh oh my identity
You must recognize me
Fashist is bad
We am good
We is genderqweer
We am POC
Whiten mens is dangerous
Bee more GenderRaceIdentity konshus

This are POETRY.
Feel me.
Modernist is a visual artist, poet, and contemporary identity to foist upon others, then complain about when they do not respond correctly. It earned its MFA in poetry from the traditional territory of the Ts’umpa peoples (now Rubber Band of First-nation Indigenous Indigents, Choctaw White Folks of Greater Oklahoma, and United Kazoo Band of Minnehahaha) and Tsoy Tzaw’z peoples (Mushu, Mixed Happy Family Kung-pao). It writes semi-coherent verse about genderfluid alienation, belonging, and inability to write poetry.

Drivel is a queer poetess, spelunker, living caricature, and weekend gynecologist with a private practice in identity-mongering. She lives with her aging but sassy Purple Republican “Mitch”, a friendly 80-pound lapdog. Recent work can be found in Better Not Review, Austin Journal of Berkeley at Cambridge, Cute Made-up Online Journal Name, and in the shredder behind the water cooler in that weird room off the English Lit. department.

Modernist and Drivel team up for an excitingly dull LIVE POETRY event in which readers read from their own work for fifteen seconds and then answer questions for an additional ten hours after everyone sighs.

Modernist/Drivel Dream-team is interested in hearing from ALL writers except those who are not part of disenfranchised communities such as people of color, immigrant populations, native and indigenous people, LGBTQ+, d/Deaf and Disabled, strident psychopaths, non-tertiary people, members of non-dominant religious groups, women, Dreamers, formerly incarcerated women dreamers, white people who seem kinda too white, and more.
Apr 2023 · 177
Multicultural Indigestion
ConnectHook Apr 2023
         The Hostess
Crowned in Afro-tribal headdress,
On her chest a Slavic tunic;
Appearing as a prophetess
Or a schizophrenic ******…

On her wrists ring Irish bangles—
Wrapped round her waist a bright sarong;
On her breast a pendant dangles
Like some Oriental gong.

Multi-kulti represented
As a woman, weirdly dressed.
Every ethnic group is feted
On arrival to the West.


          The Dinner
Everybody bring your dish!
The ethnic potluck has begun.
Afterwards  your guts will wish
Your culture had remained as one.

Foods collide and almost mingle
In the cultural melting ***;
Yet it’s hard to find a single
Way to describe this mixed-up lot.

Curry mingles with Kielbasa
Chinese dumplings, Jello, slaw
Deviled eggs, the odd samosa
Beans and rice, cheap sushi raw.

Soul food, Kimchi, Spanish rice,
Pad-Thai, grits, potato salad;
Gastronomic paradise?
Or a nauseating ballad . . .

Out of many, not quite one—
You bravely burp. It’s quite diverse . . .
But as your stomach comes undone
Digestion goes from sad to worse.

E pluribus to Alka-Seltze®
Groaning in your bed at three:
Let it fizz and hope it helps, sir
Lest you doubt diversity…

I’m Diversity. I am strength!
Sings the undigested food.
Perhaps we all shall know, at length
If global change was for the good.
PROMPT: 29
Write your own two-part poem that focuses on a food or type of meal.
In the poem, describe the food or meal as if it were a specific kind of person.
Give the food/meal at least one line of spoken dialogue.
Apr 2023 · 116
Bad Data
ConnectHook Apr 2023
bangs car in public bonk and Emma Rae comes in for her **** rubdown ****** jerking off with amateur couple deepfucking This amoral massage has got a happy yet ending ******* lessons for Tucker Starr with Nina and Dana Skanky brunette gets her ***** ******* polished Big **** visits a nerds ***** Clever student Lyla Storm gets a reward in the form of ardent **** ****** stimulation Seducing The Cable Guy Cutie Sydney nailed by throbbing **** stepmother Who want a piece of Jordan Ash and Karlo Karrera bang Liza del Sierra on the stairs Sultry ******* Murka and Sunny strip in kitchen and caress one another creating tremors with her **** engulfing Flexible college girl shows her innate *** skills Bathroom ******* Jizzing all over her face Stepmom helps teen to relieve tension makes her honey get spooning from lustful hunk Jade riding the dude until they both Trinity Eva Lovia loves the camera Green and Angel Allwood hot 3way Russian Playgirl is charmed into having raunchy *** I have to drop lots of thick hot ***** Tall Blonde ******* Off Fake Producer Caught by his mom and teen explore bodies Teach My Girlpartner How To Kortney Kane Levi Cash in Naughty Office Skinny guy rams two delicious Punjab ******* in hot ******* swallows **** I Have a Wife Swimsuit Locker Room **** mighty males drill into each gap she has Amateur GF ******* ****** ******* old and young man girl But Anna is determined to keep her job Blonde gal Denisa licks her own ****
FOUND POETRY from: Bad Haiku
ConnectHook Apr 2023
Predatory in superficiality
Full of false dignity
Brimming with self
Loading my mind with puteríos
Esas vaginas vainas

Screaming for objectification
Parade before me:
Televised Americanized Latinas
Projecting pseudo-sexuality
Celebrating vanity:
Controladoras culonas
Dramatistas inseguras

Hyperdramatic gesticulations
From calculadoras dolarizadas
Dehumanizadas
Miami Syndrome: terminal stage
Stares out from their chrome-plated eyes
Calculating appearances.
PROMPT 26:
write a portrait poem that focuses on or plays
with the meaning of the subject’s name.
Apr 2023 · 372
The Cypresses of Delirium
ConnectHook Apr 2023
Through silken waters
My gondola glides—
And the bridge... it sighs


                   Bryan Ferry


Oh for Transcendence to sit on my face
Refreshing my vision with her pure grace.
For that bright vista I’d gladly go blind
Beholding her glory: my daily grind.
I’ll talk to her forests in feline tongues,
Mouth-to-mouth lip service, heart, soul and lungs.
Tropical therapy; her countryside
Where medicinal landscapes open wide…
Then poling my gondola into port
On the waterway of love’s last resort.
PROMPT 27: write your own poem titled The ________ of ________,
where the first blank is a very particular kind of plant or animal,
and the second blank is an abstract noun.
Apr 2023 · 135
Segunda Cabeza
ConnectHook Apr 2023
Vendrá como ladrón, la palabra confiesa
Cuando la novia diga ven, cuidado . . .
No tomes lo santo por el pecado
Pensando con la segunda cabeza.

San Juan la vio bajar con delicadeza
La musa de apariencia turca
Enjoyada, velada en trasparente burqa
Para inspirar la segunda cabeza.

Manoseando realeza:
De los cielos viene tu gran sultana
Aunque ella parece mexicana
El alma floja, la turca tiesa

Contemplando extrema belleza:
A cada cabezón su gigantona
Para cambiarla en la llorona . . .
Ahora tú piensas con la segunda cabeza.

A las domésticas la limpieza
Tentándonos en sus uniformes.
A ellas: escribir cuneiformes.
A ti: leer con la segunda cabeza.

Lo que las chicas tienen sí cura la pereza
Meneando, cumbiando el bugalú.
Nos fascinan; affecta el espíritu:
El hombre piadoso y recto tropieza.

Muchacho filósofo en tu pieza:
La novia se prepara para su prometido.
No seas burro, no seas entumido . . .
Quita del huerto toda la maleza.

Medítelo duro con tu segunda cabeza.
Inspirado por Ruth Ayon
Apr 2023 · 135
Goose Chase
ConnectHook Apr 2023
Opiates are the Religion of the masses

The feathered victims of the pharm
Flock to lifestyles of abuse.
Fowlers pledge to do no harm
Farming that golden goose . . .

Commissions earned, increasing sales
Keep them lining up for meds.
Advertising never fails;
Pills, then meals, then beds.

Hail our nation’s clueless clients:
Cooped-up shuffling drug-addled souls
Victims of inhuman science
And its godless goals.

Lately, massive medication
Sold to help us all relax
Stupefies a toxic nation
Johnson and Johnsoned to the max

Getting Sacklered, Pfizering out
Astra-Zenecaed to the gills
Facts which ought to make you doubt
Waiting for re-fills.

Perhaps you should not medicate
Nor fill the coffers of the rich
When Psychiatry serves the state
its patients to bewitch…
Don't **** the goose that lays golden eggs
Apr 2023 · 49
White Hoodz
ConnectHook Apr 2023
Letz keep it real and talk cosmetic care:
You despise a white blonde—but ape her hair.
You celebrate Blackness, but lighten your skin;
Hate on white neighborhoods. Then you move in;
Blame us for everything, covet our goods . . .
Tell me once again about those white hoods.
Culturally appropriate: hair made straight:
Chemical process of permanent hate.
Apr 2023 · 146
A Kinzhal for Emily
ConnectHook Apr 2023
Come Thee quickly to thy chamber !
As the fainting NATO hums
Reaching late his unused flower,
Kinzhal bees sting bashful lips.

Suitors enter round her Eden,
Count their airplanes,

And are lost in bombs.
Find an Emily Dickinson poem – preferably one you’ve never previously read –
take out all the dashes and line breaks. Make it just one big block of prose.
Now, rebreak the lines. Add words where you want. Take out some words. Make your own poem.

Come slowly – Eden!
Lips unused to Thee –
Bashful – sip thy Jessamines –
As the fainting Bee –
Reaching late his flower,
Round her chamber hums –
Counts his nectars –
Enters – and is lost in Balms.
Apr 2023 · 56
XX Tobacco Review
ConnectHook Apr 2023
Smoking Mistress Nicotine's Sister in an upright bent poker tonight.
Upon unzipping her can and lowering her inner lining there is a pronounced initial note of excited unlit tobacco. The leaf is very moist, almost slippery in lubricity and takes the flame like a 22 year-old ****** on her honeymoon. Pack me hard, I want a long smoke tonight, she murmurs as I look for a match. She arches up, desiring to burn and be transmuted into holy smoke. Upon relight, there is a distinct taste of female sweat and pheromones. Initial room note is comparable to that girl at the 10th grade spring dance when you snuck in some apricot brandy. Partway into the bowl, the sophomoric fumblings become more enjoyably experienced and there is a shared sense of tobacco torpor. Deep in the bowl she asks if you will smoke her for the rest of your life. Yes, you answer, breathing heavily.

A smoldering jungle of desire:
Where you discern her smoke, there's fire.
Pulsating tunnel of delight,
She swells again upon re-light.
Her rounded bowl accepts my flame 
Excusing her from any blame
.

After the last spasmodic puff of smoke dies, there is a lingering pleasure which pulsates in the cooling bowl and makes you want to smoke again. I rate this tobacco very highly indeed.
PROMPT 24: write a poem in the form of a review
Apr 2023 · 86
As in the Days of Noah
ConnectHook Apr 2023
If Cain shall be avenged sevenfold,
Then Lamech seventy-sevenfold
.
                 (Genesis 4:23, 24)




Founding cities, slaying sons,
Cain's descendants ran the guns.
Gangstas reigned, before the flood
Polygamy, hoochies, vengeance, blood...
Doubtful honor was defended;
Love waxed cold, revenge commended.
Lamech laid the lyrix down:
Bragging boasts from a violent clown;
Clueless at the coming deluge
Staking out his Cainite refuge
Before it all was swept away
In Noah's long-awaited day.
Urban violence, thugs and beats,
Criminals clogging Enoch's streets;
All the glory misbegotten:
Urban legends long forgotten.
Apr 2023 · 401
Landscape Littered
ConnectHook Apr 2023
Despair

God knows them.
They are what they drop:
Subhuman trash
Strewing litter
Fouling creation
Transtrashification;
God sees them.
They will answer
To Him.
Trash is thrown out
then burned.
PROMPT 21:
choose an abstract noun, and then use that as the title for a poem
that contains very short lines, and at least one invented word.
Apr 2023 · 91
Kargo Kult
ConnectHook Apr 2023
Big man him return soon-soon

Arrive iron flying house wing-wing from sky

Great man him USA bring big gun make fire-fire every village

All bad man them punish red-white-blue magic heaven cloth

Him business suit holy roller CIA cut down jungle

Teach fake Jesus make rich-rich many pig many feast

Teach all man money-money

Bringee iPhone 14 big-big tablet great magic picture-box

Many bead many mirror big candy

Firewater sweet-sweet MarlboroBudweiser

Bringee dollar bringee big food:

CocaColaSpamWorldBankDisneyNetflixPorn

Makee island shopping mall many-many

Our people happy fat-fat many big gun

Big medicine make more baby

Now happy island sing big Amerika song-song

All village wait AmerikaUSA return come back

Amerika come again soon-soon
PROMPT 20:
Have you ever heard someone wonder what future archaeologists, whether human or from alien civilization, will make of us? Today, I’d like to challenge you to answer that question in poetic form.
Apr 2023 · 64
Blue Lines
ConnectHook Apr 2023
The worst monsters are REAL.

                         Sword and Scale


A True Crime binge has brought me here
To share with you my darkest fear:

Earth’s eternal curse: the wicked.
Criminals can play both sides—
Guilt may finally be acquitted,
Truth unites when sin divides.

Where humanity is shattered
Thin blue lines have always mattered

Thank the Lord for good policemen. . .
(Women too, let truth be told.)
All shall be revealed in heaven;
Badges there transcend mere gold.

Law and justice light the pyre—
Thugs and pigs deserve their fire.

We, the living, should be grateful
For the ones who do what’s right.
Exposing all the hidden hateful:
Our great duty in this fight.
PROMPT 19: write a poem about something that scared you –
or was used to scare you – and which still haunts you.
Apr 2023 · 83
Abecedarian Prose
ConnectHook Apr 2023
A brilliant choice, dear. Even finer: grand hopeful inventions, jibes, kaleidoscopic lyrics making new optic psychedelia qualify reality. Semitic tribes ululate; visions waver. Xenophilia, your zither!
PROMPT 18:
write an abecedarian poem –
a poem in which the word choice follows the order of the alphabet.
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