Category: Poems – Tributes

Desert Riders [Tribute to Tinariwen]

The Sahara beckons with music
Salty and sweet these hard rugged men sing
Battling those wars of men and nature

Poetry and music to cope
Poetry and music to hope

Barren sand and machine guns discordic
With trusty steed and gourd these men take wing
Clear-blue fountains discovered by venture

Poetry and music to find anew
Poetry and music to seek fresh view

(Edit: They’re from Mali. Don’t know why I made that mistake earlier. Guess I had Libya on my mind. Sorry.)

Image: https://goo.gl/images/sV4itH

To Grandmaster Will

(Hail) Eternal Bard. Your works never cease to amaze
Harrys galore, and a methodical madman
Mars peddling soothsayers, PUCK! Rhythm ablaze
Venetian merchants, passionate Moors, CALIBAN!
Storm King, do-be-dos ’bout nothing, A hunchback drake

I could never hope to match, my beat’s in a can
My vocabulary a pittance, my characters cardboard
But I can read and hoard, and sail your fjord(if those troupes ever come here again) making your world my own.

[Poem] Artemisian Notes

To, the Queen of Scythia

Pretty Helen of Sparta
She sure did make the Aegean cry
And got men fired up in the agora

But you’re no Helen
Paris is no match for you
You’d have kicked his ass into heaven
And annexed Troy single handedly, grit-true.
(Because kidnapping women isn’t a nice thing to do)

Scythian Queen, made of oak
Under whom the muses sing
Tomyris, slayer of kings of kings
Diana… Orion eternally sings for you.

Image: http://www.badassoftheweek.com/tomyris.html

[Poem] Mentor/Rival Part 2

[Poem] Mentor… Rival!

Old man, now that you’re gone

There is no rhythm to my song

Every trick of mine seems hollow

No more leprechauns under rainbows

My work now lacks those layers

Within layers within layers

That you surely did inspire

I doubt you were even aware

Of our little rivalry

Which surely made me swear

But my mind did cheer

At your every word

Even if they weren’t directed at me

I still directed mine at you

My Antietam to your Gettysburg

My masquerade to your Oscars

My republic to your Empire

My Athena to your Anunaki

My Ork and Binary to your brain physiology

You summoned a cormorant to rescue me from the pit

You got my mind to quest

And my words to have meaning

And now you’re gone

And my words mean nothing

…

You truly helped me feel

Alive for two glorious months

I thank you and salute your memory

May your soul rest in peace

 

 

 

 

 

[Poem] Maveli

Great Asura king, noble and just being

Mahabali grandson of Prahlada

Astute student of sage Shukracharya

Let Onam ring with beautiful singing

Remembering your days as king.

 

You conquered the three worlds, Chakravarthy!

You administered with great sagacity

Pride in your good works was your only sin

You repented of your hubris and undertook penitence.

In three steps Vaman disrobed you of all worldly attainments

You did not forget your people, even when exiled to Patala

Great king, Indra of the New Age, after samsara,

You will rule the three worlds again.

 

[Poem] Cossack Mamay

Cossack Mamay plays his kobza

And quiet flows the Don

Cossack Mamay rides to see the Hetman

For it is that time again.

 

War!

 

Cossack Mamay rides the sitch

And the Don flows on

Cossack Mamay jumps grand chasmic ditch…

Cheers of appreciation

from a nearby Tartar.

 

Cossack Mamay carries wounded horse on his back

Grinning widely, his teeth clench a pipe of tabac

War is over,  he goes back to his shack.

 

He’ll never leave a brother or horse behind

Cossack Mamay, what a rare man to find!

 

 

Clip from one of my favourite movies (no, not quiet flows the Don)

 

 

[Poem] Sparta and Terra (Gaia)

Spartan squad is strolling strong through a verdant hill.

Cows and goats graze undisturbed by the hoplites’ treads.

Lacedaemononian commander: cold heart, steel will,

Raises a fist to call a halt… Something he dreads,

 

A sudden fear, darkening the rays of sunlight.

Landslide! Men and animals slide down the green hill

Panic! Commander appraises his foe to fight

Notices that the animals are now quite still.

 

Something wrong with the cow’s legs, he realises then

He sees a chance, a solution for this new plight

“Brothers, turn and kneel!” Obedience instant, good men!

Gaia appears, to acknowledge their obeisance

 

Apollo then arrives to intervene on their behalf

“Great mother, bows made in fear mean nothing

Empty gestures forgotten quickly, hollow staff

Made of burnt twigs. Empty of magic or healing.

Let them go and save their regal succession

Let them go and save their Queen Helen.”

 

The Spartan camp rings with paeans to Apollo until they reach Troy and Hades.

 

 

 

 

[Poem] William the Bastard

William, son of Robert and Herleva

Born of illegitimate liason

Your ancestry stemmed from Scandanavia

A blemished heritage for la maison!

 

You wooed Mathilda with a riding whip

Flanders yours, you then cast off Henri’s yoke

You sailed to England in your Norman ship

While Jester told your knights many a joke

 

Edward the Confessor’s throne now vacant

Seize the throne. To arms! With haste to Hastings

Your troops are scared. Jester roars triumphant

Rides forth, juggling swords… first death devestating

 

You conquer England, the Marches a strain,

a witch’s curse your eternal bane

You build churches galore for penance, and die alone

the sight of the witch’s buttocks still gives you pain you can’t atone.

 

Language transforms.  Before — Pork: French, pig: English, beef: French, cow: English

Now — Cultural fusion through hegemony. Welcome to the new aristocracy!

 

 

[The last two lines bother me. I don’t have the words to properly convey what I want to say.]

 

[Poem] To Reggie German

I’m sorry I made you read something sad

I guess there’s enough depression to be had

In this world, without deceptive Mcculkins

Luring the unwary to the world of Vulcans

 

Let’s sit in Tom Bombadil’s grove

Watching Sith and Jedi play  parcheesi

Moving to that old sage’s groove

And singing to his melody

 

Hey dol! merry dol! ring a dong dillo!Ring a dong! hop along! Fal lal the willow!Tom Bom, jolly Tom, Tom Bombadillo!

The Eye of Sauron looks away scandalized

By old Tom’s joyous dance

Pack away our sorrows and drown it in the lake

While we imitate Ye Olde Bombadillo shake

Bring your family, bring your friends, let’s all dance

With Tom Bombadil, were sadness ain’t got no chance

 

I’m sorry for my unwitting reverse punchline in the previous poem, which I now realize, started with promises of a comic twist, but ended in dry sorrow. I was looking for an image that conveyed frozen shock, and utter disbelief. A home alone movie poster was the best I could find. I thank Reggie for bringing it to my attention.