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Bluster Too

We live in times replete
where mere contentiousness
and peace
compete;
where the loving soul
hides
not knowing how to sing in the dark.

If the herd stampedes to some popular view
pause first
rather than follow
will blim and bluster shape the morrow?
Small things in years
will matter least.

Life is the shaping force;
the sculpting of character
where the difference is learned between
large and small matters;

[...] Read more

poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Battle of Will & Exhaustion, Mother & Child

Two knights surrounded by dinosaurs
are cornered in the kitchen--all threat and bluster.
Action figures always act
even as night tries to soothe them under.

I am the one who laid a nervous hand
on a child's exhausted threat and bluster.
The bunk bed creaks as the story settles,
as night's cool hand tries to soothe us. Under

a Seussian drone I am thinking, anxious,
about someone with a nervous hand.
Will he sleep? Will he sleep? When will he sleep?
The bunk bed creaks as the shipboard settles.

What is the myth of a woman alone
who's thinking through Seuss? Her thoughts are drones
serving a terrible queen of their own.
Can she sleep? Will she sleep? When will she sleep?

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poem by Jenny Factor
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M'Fingal - Canto III

Now warm with ministerial ire,
Fierce sallied forth our loyal 'Squire,
And on his striding steps attends
His desperate clan of Tory friends.
When sudden met his wrathful eye
A pole ascending through the sky,
Which numerous throngs of whiggish race
Were raising in the market-place.
Not higher school-boy's kites aspire,
Or royal mast, or country spire;
Like spears at Brobdignagian tilting,
Or Satan's walking-staff in Milton.
And on its top, the flag unfurl'd
Waved triumph o'er the gazing world,
Inscribed with inconsistent types
Of Liberty and thirteen stripes.
Beneath, the crowd without delay
The dedication-rites essay,
And gladly pay, in antient fashion,
The ceremonies of libation;

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poem by John Trumbull
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Bluster, sputter, question, cavil; but be sure your argument be intricate enough to confound the court.

quote by William Wycherley
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My own view would be to let Saddam bluster, let him rant and rave all he wants. As long as he behaves himself within his own borders, we should not be addressing any attack or resources against him.

quote by Dick Armey
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Cry Missiles..........

FROM loneliness to rage,
you slip into a bluster
of moods, each one has a
flag of its own.
FROM loneliness to rage,
you howl for any one
with two arms, to hold you,
untill this sadness passes
away.
FROM loneliness to rage,
you cry missiles that
explode in your head,
and land at your feet.
AMEN.............

poem by David Gerardino
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From Loneliness To Rage 01

FROM loneliness to rage,
you slip into a bluster
of moods, each one has a
flag of its own.
FROM loneliness to rage,
you howl for any one
with two arms, to hold you,
untill this sadness passes
away.
FROM loneliness to rage,
you cry missiles that
explode in your head,
and land at your feet.
AMEN.............

poem by David Gerardino
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To Dr. F. B[eale]; On His Book Of Chesse.

Sir, how unravell'd is the golden fleece:
Men, that could only fool at FOX AND GEESE,
Are new-made polititians by thy book,
And both can judge and conquer with a look.
The hidden fate of princes you unfold;
Court, clergy, commons, by your law control'd.
Strange, serious wantoning all that they
Bluster'd and clutter'd for, you PLAY.

poem by Richard Lovelace
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Leap

The vines of love
Have all died
The leaves of kisses
All withered
And blown away

The storm clouds
Bellow and bluster
Flash in anger
And in silence sit I
with 'alone' an old friend of few words

Time has come, the damage done,
Reparations are made impossoble.
You wear a smile that's a frown inside
Goodbye to all the insults,
All the jeers and innuendos

Time to make a leap

poem by Midnights Voice
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Rodomontadinous

A toast to the boasting rant.
Bluster dusting those in whispered chants.
Scatting with street corner bravado...
Being rodomontadinous.
And caring less that it shows.
Hosting ego with a glide that one prides.
As if awarded a grand prize,
For such flagrant obnoxiousness loved.
A performance that seems to fit like a glove.
And observers stare with pen and pad.
Aware that fresh air should be noted,
Before it disappears from their disguises.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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