Roetry

26/10/2023

26/09/2023

DCash-MooLa Rulla Roetry

Blackest Treasure (German poem number one)

u have
black lice
u drive in
big black ship
u have
black treasure
one of the big black boat
under the trunk
Jewellery.

You have
black status
Black
Say King!
black boy
black man
black children
Black is good

Taste the sky
like honey without horns
where the good people
float like bridges
and the image natural
becomes life

You're not a black knight yet,
not yet a black person,
not yet a black Negro,
You are a king.

OJA 09:26:2023;16h53

30/08/2023

i feel it in my gums...

30/08/2023

(g)ning_Rain_Rings

Stop at this intersection:
Weigh life and peril
Best dump old sorrows
And complexions;
Lay them upon
One fat smooth rock,
For tomorrow
Springs from today.

Stand. Rise from stupor
Stretch those arms wide
Enshrine in little griefs
Yield to yesterday.

Hey umbrella,
In my margarita
You’re not
In the corner

How shall we find use?

Without purpose
Or protection

Nothing absolves misdirection
Like thunder and tears of God
Upon each and every wrinkle
Of my coffee ground skin.

31/07/2023

Love yourself;

02/05/2023

The Awl of Rex Anglorum (Albion)

If so Beith,
a thane, so wise
and just before
his royal person
be crowned King,
may thy spirit
reach Aether.

Let not frank channels
fall under automaton
far into every realm
the commonwealth abounds
on the hilt of Bretwalda.

From the land of the English,
in the Kingdom of Scots,
rose a Cisterian baptized:
Jocelin, Bishop of Glasgow.
By compromissarii
witnessed by William I,
the Lion, at Perth,near Scone.

A shrill deep in the woods
piques the public interest
of all querulous hearts
as they bleat away
without blinking
into beeping time.

In the verdure, sheep
graze newspapers
prior to shearing
the wool of Rex Anglorum.

Once upon a time,
Albion thrived on sheep;
from sails to ladies dress,
white woolen broadcloth,
undyed, undying exports.

Today, small cars, peerage,
foreign gold and petroleum,
are her trade medicines.
No longer are the guilds,
the Shearers have machines;
buccinators blare corny fanfare,
remember the last Buccaneer.

Engines of aging
dock upon her heavy shores.
Signs of imperial siege
lay ahead of each foot.

An orb, not an awl
visits both town and country.
Its light refracts and reflects
sparks on the stingy people
without reflection.

A shaft of twisted gold
beset by jewels
pearls from another age,
cast a great shadow
upon its brother.

Livingston, Raleigh, Drake,
Cook and Cabot wield
time by the same design
Lewis and Clark discover
Coeur d'Alene.

"Live on, and by my bounty behold the light of day"
quod Richard Coeur de Lion of his handsome boy-murderer.
His body remains unstitch:

Heart in Rouen
Gut at Châlus
Feet and Co**se
laid by the footing
of his Father Henry II,
Rex Corpus iuris civilis.

And Remember thy temper
thy incubus, thy writs.
Too grand to litter,
too divine to sate
above the pommel
King's read.

After all, man's power
rests in literature.
Not that fat diamond,
Nor its crowned sister.
Aside from her beauty,
she rests cushioned on
precious banat cloth,
in purple velvet cap
and ermine band,
She is locked away
in the Tower of London.

A king's power as mediator,
reigns over all oppressors.

The awl of Albion,
etched in epitaphs
at Westminster Abbey,
foretells of lurid miseries.

Across the pond,
disease prevails,
banking houses fail;
since the bloody baptism of the Queen,
our ears resist hearing lies,
our eyes avoid seeing noise
in a world against all odds,
bards may read at royal heed.

As Jocelin, Bishop of Glasgow commissioned:

"May that same God, whose throne endures for-ever, establish your throne in righteousness, that it may stand fast for evermore."

23/03/2023

03.23.2023: 15:15 DCash-MooLa Rulla

23/02/2023

02.23.2023:15h55

09/02/2023

Regicide!
IronSides!!!
Regicide!

For a name etched in limestone,
better survives being dragged
through mud and countryside.

04/01/2023

Pulsar

Some evenings I glare at us
in awe of our celestial beauty,
Goddess of particles
Universal caretaker;
Oh, howeth you elude me
and, continue to string me along
as I revel on a quest to darkness
bemused by the sequined fireworks
sewn into your galactic dress.

Our hair links together constellations
well-combed and divinely held.
Pinned comets rest on your shoulders
in the shadow of a trillion stars;
when I look through the sky,
and see your skin of speckled gold
as you sleep through the day
with eyes made of black holes.

I wish I could gaze at you forever
until I am warp, worn, and worm.
Our binary sunlight burning bright
your glowing curtain closed.

Onray J.acksoon

21/12/2022

Quelle nouvelle arrivions?

-Onray

D'eau racine sur ciel
Notre Rheine est morte!
Tant p*s pour nous
nous-mêmes avec mauvaise
nous vous couronnons roi

Dauphin marche
en court bientôt
encore moi, liqueur
en cœur plein

Tous les écrivains
consommer la nouvelle:
aux vide de la ville
presque devient villette.

Après vivifiante
la vie en cœur
la vie en court
être en rose

Le cœur a ses raisons
que la raison
ne connait point.

Elegy for QEII

14/12/2022

From Across the Pond Poem Series
Birth of Commonwealth: Puritan, Irish, Scots Power

Title:

"OLIVER" (Predestination, Conversion, God's grace)

OLIVAR D G RP ANG SCO ET HIB &c PRO, translated as "Oliver, by the Grace of God of the Republic of England, Scotland and Ireland etc. Protector".

***Predestination***

Among Discovery and Recovery
one thing speaks in common
the lordship of husbands.

Corrupt conjugal crown
enthralled to entreat,
appalled by retreats

That which is the cover
iow possesion, possessor;
this body is possessed
full of life-less-meaning.

Read men; not books
study people, if one shall
study at all

Protect and Protest
these impurities of time
priurience and clime.

In such compendiums,
I pensively write
intensly of this life,

As I covet the covert
elemental northern lights
that have given coverture.

***Conversion***

Ahead of the influx
strange men and their families
foreign to India and her spice
foreign to America and her beavers

Pop*sm, tonnage and poundage
tonight: Petition of the Right.
The greatest ex-officio leaders
performing at the European theatre

When Apple-dragon, in full cover
moved from end to bend, England
no longer herself, made amends.

In the annals of Whitehall
trace her-- the Thames, a cruel howling
rattles the tyranny between men,
religion and land around the Globe.

While The Scots enjoy chess without Bishops
English men defended the Fens, naked.
It was a Short Parliament, more brief
than the manhunt for John Punch,
or the impeachment of Mary H, Regina.

A Catholic Queen-in Exile camped in Paris,
A Scottish King in camp with Presbyterians
meets certain death by beheading; and
Louis the Beloved's maternal grandmother dies,
attended by Antoine Vallot, in court, of Valde Melancholicus.

***God's Grace****

Divine right and obstinacy killed the King,
for, his predecessors could always compromise.
Queen Elizabeth I did not love puritans,
save, she knew the value of commerce.
Shall I fight for the King? or the Head
Shall I fight for Parliament?
Does the English governing body
fight for poor farmers? for zeal?

Oliver, tree planter, apple-dragon
Crook dweller turned statesman
sloven, commander and spring lover,
Oliver Cromwell preferred loyalty
over religion and courage over class.
Cromwell suspected R's espionage
and love of the Pop*sh church.

Much like his great-uncle Thomas,
Oliver wore his family name proudly
over his right shoulder.
The First English Civil war
led to the rise of the Presbyterians
Parliament confuses and abuses her army
in an awfully cavalier manner.
Cromwell elects to lead the Army
and rejects parliament wholly.

Exiled King Charles Stuart asks:
Under what commission did Coronet G.
Joyce and his 500 soldiers act?
Weeks later, on trial, Stuart refuses
pleading guilty or not guilty,
for it was the will of God
upon which the Royal person attends.
The beheading, seen by millions of eyes
of Charles I, dismantled the establishment
of faith, law and order.

"But if the divine power permitted this
His will's the law and ours must acquiesce.

As God's Olive farmer, embarks on mission
to civilize the Irish at Drogheda, Wexford
his name, Cromwell is accursed, by Scots
at Dunbar, and Edinburgh.

Regicide!
IronSides!!!
Regicide!

For a name etched in limestone,
better survives being dragged
through mud and countryside.

OJA12/13/2022/17:23:PM

14/11/2022

“Sea Lions"

I saw Pan, more alive than once before
Wading in reeds nearby the misty shore.
Raise a horn and travel on restless winds
March like Hermes winding by greenwood air
Odorless verdigris of patina
Fountain of inmost pastoral nature
Conductor of baptisms for bard and saytr
Centuries of fellows listen for you.

At the sight of Pan’s sharp copper flesh,
Sewing his verdant vest from mangroves
Blowing antidotes to dear solitude.
He who does not lounge shall carrel in awe
As piper to nymphs and panicking fauns
Did Hellas know the latitudes of lions?

Onray 6.12.2019:1530

20/09/2022

NEW AMSTERDAM GIMMICK

I paint the new gimmick,
the color of the old jig.

Letting go of the old means:
some schist must go!
Welcome new dreams,
hold tight, New Orleans.
On this floating shiest-fill
Let the current carry woe,
blue currency.

Slowly on the way up,
- up like hot air
- up like high rise
draw near the skyline.

Idle by a cirrus cloud,
scraping the sky,
enter the corner store,
smiling, wearing something
worthy of a stalactite.

Dodge the tourists:
the lady by the no-standing sign
the terrible -two year olds
fearless family of four
City folk looking up
silhouettes of buried faces
on tempered glass mirrors.

Before you all visit,
avoid looking down,
on digital out-lookers,
upon this stolen land.
Avert those begrudging eyes:
- Lower East River beavers
- Upper West-side herons:
aggressive elks in black-crown night.

19/09/2022

"[The New Amsterdam Gimmick]"

(written to address senescence, obsolescence and deterioration)

I paint the new gimmick,
the color of the old jig.

Letting go of the old means:
Some schist must go!

Welcome new dreams,
Hold tight, New Orleans.
On this floating shiest-fill
Let the current carry woe,
blue currency.

Slowly on the way up,
up like hot air
up like high rise
draw near the skyline.

Idle by a cirrus cloud,
scraping the sky,
enter the corner store,
smiling, wearing something
worthy of a stalactite.

Dodge the tourists:
the lady by the no-standing sign
the terrible -two year old
the short family four
folk looking up the City
silhouettes of faces buried
in tempered glass mirrors.

Before all visits,
avoid looking down,
all digital onlookers,
upon this stolen land.

Avert those begruding eyes:
the Lower East River beavers
the Upper Westside herons:
aggressive elks in black-crown night.

Everybody wants a sale.
It would not be good wood
without a good deal.

60 Gilders, then we'll build it
and they will come from far.

Henry Hudson, did he not already
inform history? could he not exchange his uniform,
when he was soaked, could he not borrow dry sabots,
and certainly he could not buy land already occupied.

How did one little loop
become Jazz standard?

Suspend them, all good men
by the waistband.

Pack these few notes
in heavy brass lockets,
entrust and guard them;
real tunes. Reminders
of the offical box score
of lightly-parched love.

Push two gulps of hope
gently down glass pockets,
watch for new watchers
lost in their mystery
quiet, alone.

The new gimmick is painted
the color of the old jig.

Behold, dark-green sea w**d
a tint in murky water;

roads are dark,
shoulders run for miles
like Russet Burbank seeds
skiffing the planks at Burning Man.

17/09/2021

In the city
at the mouth of every driveway
corrugated cardboard boxes
wait
neatly stacked and tied.

Garbage trucks zip around
like landfill shopping carts.

Personal garbage comes in different way.s
Mostly solid, sometimes liquid,
rarely gas.

The items we discard,
have no more authority,
like a broken wristwatch

Trash is not e-quality
trash is not e-safe
trash kills!

Gallon trash bags
come in white, clear
and most often dark.

The white bags for
Personal indoor bins
The giant dark bags for
Public outdoor cans
The clear bags standout
for recycling plastic:
bottles that sweat
in the Sun.

Trash bags today
Have traces of waste

Environmentally friendly
Rubbish disposal solutions.

26/08/2021

FOX HUNT

Some chase and some choose.
The fox wants to chase
the ducks swimming
close by the edge

some chase and catch lunch
others catch and release
few catch and keep,
birds sleep on the sea.

Many sprint then walk
others walk and sit
few run then sprint
as cats and dogs jog.

It would be new
If cats chased dogs
It would be old
If dogs chased dogs

A beast is a beast
Pig is pork
At any dinner table
A wolf’s breath is bad

Fishermen, Butchers
Gourmet Chefs alike
A filet is always..
No matter the catch

Wherein do men trade
foolish tastes
for delightfully
simple heartbreaks?

The fox chases its heart, from start!
the preyed runs for life, as art!
Of men, not all are fox
some chase more smart.

The worker of man’s heart
not fox, pig nor dog.
The worker of man’s smart,
woman's footprints in soil.

OJA 08:26:2021:14:30