ST.VAUDEVILLE

                                      An Ode to St. Vaudeville

They sigh with the sigh of hedonism

And moment of voluptuary burned like

 acid in their wake,

And still moment later closed they behind ,

them,with a deafening bang,

To racketeer  incubus gamester of  St.vaudeville,

Still,dancing to the open gallery ,the galoshe of

Its galvanism.

He ,a gaffer ,peddling nuances, st.vaudevile

 parexcellence, and a gadabout plenipotentiary ,

On the trojan gaga  ,gaffs he, with gales of gaffe ,

his  antiheroic  horse ,

And the  rancid quest , gads his , the Tremolo of

 impassive imprint ,

His gala of gaiety,and imporous impost,frouncing

vicissitude ,

And straits of pandemonium ,ozzles its petals with

stunning naivety,

Behold him, a fugueman of  St.vaudeville boulevard ,

and its immanent impresario.

With incurious  incursion ,incurvate,incorrigible ,

incurable and indecorous,

Inaudible as it were ,his pottentous plethora of whacked

 gusto ,totters in vile ,

The blinding warp

devour him ,thou grim goblin

 of hades,expunge he,of decrepit guise.

Pogrom of the neurosis, broachs perfectly  as pogrom of the

 open gallery and city square,

Whereon Volant feet  and voluble hypocrisy,volleys sticky

 virtus of humoursome mirth ,

Hurtling and hustling ,voluptuary  renegade of fugacious

Species,ricocheted ,as he dances on canvas,

Howbeit ,as a kinky sand of gauchy cloud,and like a clown

 Harps as its harlequinade,

Still,it steeds ,ridiculed by frosty pale,the hasp and the

escutcheon.

Heady man ,headstrong  and adamantinous  in that

moor of barren-land

Hawks hedonism ,its heathen-dom rapport  like his ilks ,

 Highwaymen of infelicitous lance and insalubrious  dusk,

He a cassanova,still unblushing,wines and dines away , in

Wanton malignance,

Fructiferous hours of oaks at the alehouses, as jeroboam

Guzzlers,guzzles adinfinitum.

Frolicking with viragoes , lucre-glots of ale-houses,

foster-girls  and geisha-girls of broken troth ,

Rising impetuously,impugning homespun homestead,

to fill him dire,

A finical of insidious infraction and insipid masquerade,

waltzes  with merriment,go wassailing,

Beseeched with omnivorous obsession,the obversion of

the obtuse knots ,

Kneadsthe mainstream etiquette and public misery,

interred,beneath its obvelation .

And so,as it is to knighthood,so it is to  villainy ,

a kaleidoscope of antiheroes  as deigned as

anti-heroines,

Kinematic odious knighterrants  of the libertinous

 ogre and icentious oblation,

Fostered by broken gouge of selfesteem ,heaved by

 self adulation and deposed by objurgation,

A deposition ,that they in his lurk,cannot withstand,

neither they nor he , even at glee counterpoise,

How shall they elope the guillotine of times,let alone

 on sebaceous grill,when oblated at the windy poles?

Omnivarious voluptuary crisscrosses  olivaceous

tilts of sanguinary landmines,

Whose gratifying hounds and obsecration ,to 

perenially defies

Oblative apogee ogles like the wild ass its villainous

knobs,

Vaudevile!vaudevile !! ‘’ he eulogized ,panting like

 love smitten beau,

Walloped at rampage ,pleases he, him and them ,

his ilks to dwell.

Look,how a donkey,brazenly pants ,knotted in

 a freshet,

So glued ,to the meadow,in her fast guzzling

 salivation ,

Twice a gloat, like a frenzied freestone , gybes

 his glacis,

And being tacky,to the apron of vaudeville,joists

 to jowl his Jubilant mirth,

Like his ilks,they jingle and jocund,to defy elegy

of its rampage and bubonic plague.

With unfair lips,to sneer and jeer teleological

 purports,

Basking in vitiated halo,wattled frequency  and

 hurling pasquinade on zoilean strain,

Ominous,luminous as it were , thus overswayed

 this frequency,

Carving they, a niche,as the prisoner of primrose bank

,of shallowed  yolks and mean spirited bred,

Dancing sepulcher,in devouring haste,to obliterate

 obsequious  impurities,maelstromed at censured

olive branch.

Howbeit booed, by motherwit,still fastened to its

 lurk of indigo hell,

Her libertine,he embraces but that liberty of troth ,

he cannot ,meet nor guarantee,

And navigates now,he clowns at penitence,and

 deboned its tumescence,

Sadomasochistic at the broken gouge, aptly frolicking

 lucre-glots-O swindled souls!

Haunted with the oblique knead of overweening 

super egos.

Histrionics goof , he did blot golden morn,closeted

by agoraphobiac knobs that  throbs away,

Remorse,at the pennick peptic glands,of this much

maligned but ignoble peccadilloes,

Over this pelt,perfunctorily,hath he hung his perforated

plunge,of pelicled menagerie,

Cloyed in recess of his vari-coloured particle and throttled

paragon,

He peels acerbic pasture, his pastime ,struck at the

superlative anvil and fop of supererogated

supercilliary.

‘’Ouite ,superfluous, ‘’renounced not naturewit,but

indeed superfluous,swoons his tilted tendons,

Whereon his  signature bonus,a tickling phosphor,a

phoenix to the tetchy philotechnic,

Unfair flowers gathered in their unruly prime ,rots away

 in little time,tapestry of temulence,

Still ,like a bird in a tangled , she lurks his bosom,still ,

her bosom ,he lurks at St.vaudeville,

With her delilah’s trap,she, a lurid  inamorata  makes

 amain unto him and greedily,lures his  gulls.

And prettily ,they coagulate.the talisman of

amorous thanatoid,

Staid is he,thawed at her staid,staid is she

,licentious and amorous,as they wine and dine,

The embellished  tincture of vacuous hoods ,

supplanted by  the uncanny village of  hedonism,

The darkest moon ,shines upon this vesuvian steam,

the darkest hour a stampede upon its feet,

And lo,they lay beneath groveling jingle,that surfaces

 to cool down the heat.

And so,quench the darts forth fire,and flung

they behind them the nebula of immanent

perils,

To be lushed and lured by hell of perfidy,

masquerading as poreless tinges of  St.vaudevile ,

And were they not gnawed perpetually  by  transient

 tremor of this translucent lust?

Were they glued and gulled to grouch censure,

transfixed ,upon nature’s sudorific quest,

To famish vaudeville,beyond its terrigeneous

 twiddle ,laden with foams ,furled by twinging

tympanum?

Tramel St.vaudevile,fugitives of mores ,alight ,

Clothed with the blanket of unblushing pounce,

and let it steed ,

Troll voluptuary-city,stampeded upon thy heels ,

Of voluptuous rudders ,let serpent hisses ,hiss no

more ,

Tramps,hobos tender spring froth thee not unripe,

whereon thy phosphorescent euphora basks.

Yet,mayest thou be staled,beautifying ,as the spring,

In liberalism,doth yearly ferments,

Hence,trepidation grips motherearth,…………

as vagabond vacillated scorned fugacity,

Be bold to lush,neither  tipsy nor poisoned by potion

Supplanted at st.vaudevile ,

Swashbuckling trods,thou wast begot to arduous heels,

Whereon kismet pays thy price of freedom,

And like tangled birds,in knot,might soon outwits time

To alight like the eagle  and outpaces like the falcon.

And so being engross,naturewit plaited by shrewdness  saith

unto thee,

 ‘Pang of agony ,with which thou feedest , thy spasm,fondles

 sweetest labour’,

Behold like a loneranger, the first and foremost  rule of the

Thumb,that thou mayest observe,

That thou  mayest live,when sweetest labour ,thou art dined,

She refrains  and lampoons veracity’not all that glitters,is gold’.

That by laws of nature ,thou art bound,to subconsciously

 feed thy promote and demote,

But with precaution, to censure regression of thy promote,

That thou mayest ssurvive,

Thou didst fled the farmfields,to jocund ,and cheerily ,still

jocunds,

Twixt crimson hedonism ,froth double barrel gunned –

 Voluptuary seeks,

And in contending passion, gemmate and aptly foresworn

 to blink  .

And trembling in thy frequency ,to do fain the unfair girth,

Of a famished pout,replete with votive candles of thy volcanic

Passion,

And waddle this proud wade,deigns greedily ,to smother thee

 Chastity of no return,

Truculent and still unblushing,venous dread,ventilated not his

Cheeks,

And unto thee trollop,mothers of the nation, not embroyonic

Cord of foul play.

A thousand honey scorn ,that scorn’st farthe’t,than the sun

Smitten,

The earth,shalt thy hurled splash,manicured,with the blushing

Tremor,

And stomping feet,dancing upon the motherearth,sisterhood

Of st.vaudevile,reliinquished celibacy,

Standing at lorrette of the lorgnette, a lothario as he was, gulped

By lucubration,

To scold his lutarious and litigious  loom for  gargantuan lottery for

Voluptuary city,goaded arenacious palms to gnashe for remorse.

And so,at the groundplot of grandiloquent gewgaw,he scorned

Lutarious st.vaudevile:

‘’Why didst thou err with impunity and racketeer hedonism in

brothel?

Thou wast ignorasmus,a jerrybuilder,with  farmfields

 ,hurled down by inferno,’’

And fie they fie,with  frosty bridle ,beneath haunting furrows

Of davy jones locker,

Jesuitical in jetsam,as the feets of the gazelles,swung to stampedy,at

 The romps of  mortifying  paces.

Narcissus,so,they agonise ,as the presence of  the daylight ,knock them

 Cold,

 And the gouts of sarcastic ovation, flung nearby,burst into hysterical

laughter,

Wherein earth supplanted by festive fan fare fests at ganglioned st.

Vaudeviled,

Gapes at the darkest hour,and thou art ashamed to belabor,for golden

 Fleece?

Gallinaceauos hewns,not in satiety ,invariably,gawks its gavel ,on this

Ballad.

So much glitters, greedily killeth fast ,and the pang of a woman at

childbirth,

Being belabor,he cannot belabor,being belabor,she cannot chose

to disdain,

That cavil of kismet,gulling the gullet,wrought at teleology,entraps

At her arms and womb,

And in one sweet labour,kindles its navel,which bred more beauty,

Than all of nature’s beauties welded ,

And dewed with distilling showers of the heavenly moistures ,shalt

In such gusto,mortal labour be lucently grooved.

Starry heavens above  being so envious,earth so heavier

 and ocean-seas bluer to sloth vaudeville,

This flank of vista,windy vapours sigh before torment of

Time ,

THE DANCE OF THE ZOMBIES

 THE EPIC POETRY BELOW IS AN EXCERPT FROM THE BOOK OF POETRY ST.BLUES' QUEER STREET FROM THE BLOGGER IBIKUNLE LANIYAN.A VOLUMINOUS 3,000PAGES POSTED BELOW.ENJOY THE READING.

And all the colours of rainbow that went east struck gully gunges

To refrain the equinoctial gales of the old greybeard .

See , how he grunted bardesquely this torment of mother fucker

With the esquaries.

How hard is it for the pirates to resist white elephant luxury

A swamp on misty mountains for chic pacifism  .

That evinces eastern colors of rainbow

Where the gazelle could flee to gavel epicure and to relief working sun

Growing pains soon ebbing ,grown up to shoot grovel , hopping in the grove

Did he knacker  to grunt

Distant thunder grails accustomed thunder to growl thin air .

With gumption as guided missile ,stealthily tweets pirates for the guillotine.

Had not the gully gunges gripping Alupluto not stroke and mist over

thereafter ?

And mighty trees fallen not adorn the bouquet  for the undertaker ?

How so grosty the luxury held in the mist had froth impale the mistimed

And the gale that went to the north went  everywhere .

Old little grotto  for the grappling hook taken to the guillotine

Bereaved the greybeard .

When will thou return ?

Gross pit in the open mine have they cast him .

With the pixies of the grey matter to un-gory jurisprudence

Aluplutans fallen in trenches plain sailing outwitted serfs forever .

And the gale that went  north went everywhere .

Espionage refrain to debit him wherein the old greybeard had debouched

For the days of reckoning

Never bereaved nor traversed and trajected by dearth was truthful as knight

 of old .

Brandished by orchard ’ s hair raising , earnest money twinges .

O that crux may not lie !

Nor cuss cruises  away without scion .

Cuddled with barleycorn grill to curry ass away and ass along

Dappled horses at Alupluto court  bibliomania sis with glee

And struck with merry girth , dark ages in their loins

Death wishes , death  watch beetles , death  rolls , death rate and death blows’

 common refrain and goons , struck  Alupluto over death bed .

Deadly night pale  girth not away gutter press unction of the knight of old

As trees hoppers hop over Old greybeard .

Harum-scarum  venges the bloodhound  at Alupluto .

It pulls in the undertaker  for the death bed  rites .

O thou harlequin  that courts bibliomania sis .

Will thou relish that sun may shine ?

A hassle for the gods and medicine

Aren’t they prowled no more and fret withers away ?

Haywire haunted  and haywire funfests

Hawk less  with grit stone  to loop head strong

And hazy where golden hook is mangled as sheol dances the

dance of the macabre .

Waow ruffled by masquerade and haunted by manacle

Hurls melodrama to mellow apotheosis .

See , here anew the mountain molehill

See the molehill on the mountain

Here lies the motherfuker .o murder earth

A mug’s game with the mugger’s dregs uncouths in

No man’s land .

And set above equal , the bard ’s ferret forgathers his writ for summons

As foxhole and foxhounds for the day of reckoning .

Will his fowling piece revives the golden hook?

Foxy , foxier , foxiest   appends the middle .

Not vent his bucolic passion

Froth with buccaneers fiery pawn

To dip  pen in brown study

To divulge from the bugbears ,boggerlike bumpkins

in the open country..

Neither do a bunk nor curry  invectives not to chide

Despots burning oven gripping Alupluto .

In gall he dipped  his bully boyhood  pen as bar den brusque sly

chronicled of bitten bullet thus began anew :

Bunkering of net hers  flung  open the grey master  

’s orchard .

Morning souls hurled into sheol by bandits

To sewer forest compassion .

Cal lows and canoodle ,carols and epicure unfairly caroused by

cavalry

A thousand broth boys fell in the forest of Alupluto

O casino of death we castrate thee !’’

And the gall in pen hurled out of cavalry

As grim-hack pen hops from trees to trees

In surfeit and satiety had he sighed but shrieking with a nervous

cough .

To cough and to ensure old monarchy ’s days of yore

Taciturn regained conscience  mower and aptitude mooring

As sheol dances not yet over

Chopping the axe of brawling of mood

With galloping hoofs of buccaneer’s horses strode fretting to un-soil

They chortled and chuckled to merry  theft of great spoil and the

harvest of souls that never return .

Alupluto is a cipher hound of trenches ;who will bail it out ?

To the cavewoman ’s valley , did he trod ;with brown study greater than

All of Alupluto put together .

There , he hack in the press and grey in the press to exhume eastern

colors of rainbows ’ rudder to refrain this gale

And enjoin , did it not savor : ‘a thunder damp up mortal brawn

The  mystery bar den old greybeard clam our not far away .

Craving boyish strength so golden ; for he that sees like the gods

must battle like the gods’’ .

And clam up to sigh ,  he did  not revile , his clannish mortal tarry pounded

Gongs to cline , froth him not unkempt , but not like the lappers .

Hopping trees in the siege of the bandits to envelop his clownish writ for gutter

 press .

Recklessness speaks his dialect with the brash tide of dexterity pulls the

trigger .

Nor does it recline when servitude snaps at dusk and time recluses  for solitude

Unless reconnoiter falls in trenches may not recoil

Quizzes never  quiver this rabidity ;a racket of platitude and avalanche of rhapsody

 and  chaste twinges not his ramrod

O ye simple revile not his nature ;When ferry of rife unction’s its billows

And rifts so remorseless s held in rampage .

Paddling through with rigs for mores to doff hats for brown study

And ripples through the storm do well a roaring trade

Biblio-maniasis went every where n Alupluto and the gale that went

north went everywhere

Quibble not this ire ;his metaphor speaks not guile of him

No time to dine ,no time to fests and wine for passing man

With a meta-language that an be read not by the simple and the bold

Behold a seriocomic for the bold and the simple to the home of honors

O ye simple avoid the reckless !

Like the saints in the confession ,recklessness sings his songs of freedom

As he grey in the press , he hacks in the press .

Sonorous pen tingles beyond his peers ,brawny and bra shy , brassy and crappy , windy and boisterous , foments mortal steam

See , the brat  had courted more laurels than the bold and the simple

More bruises are pearls for glory

Revile not his nature , o ye simple ; bind your wounds with recklessness

That thou mightest contends

 To tame the dissidents and the impudent for the ounce of  glory .

From the north country into wild life reserves , did  he trod , grey-hack pressing

For he , gulled by pogroms would soon be away like the sheep to the slaughter ,

he go in the whore and comes in the gore .

 .

THE BARD OF  ALUPLUTO

He comes down the valley and the sky gets

Balmier  .

The sea ruptures cramped rocks to shore and

Gets grimier than ever before .

The monsoon is past ebbing and no moist yet

Bug on bugaboo catches common cold and

 common crass

Gratifying ego beyond bound and hanging

 round the shore

Ascension of grey matter grazes and polishes

 Projected gravy train .

Shallow bud with unwavering brood not as they were

in the common cold and common crass.

Narcissus so its self forsook oracle to turn turtles

                                                      

Betwixt fallen , betwixt  crimson, betwixt  caisson

Alas , he rises to graze the mire

To dabble to venture to darn and swagger by ginger .

Scorning and scolding the whole caboodle and the

 Babylon

And the forest of Alupluto had he not loved to dwell ?

Yoked with fallen gauntlet ,adumbrated as sated

Metaphors of lethargy pale into repugnance

With bug and bug of treadmill bugaboos

Runs the yonder hills

And  gather crest his savvy horn

His wonder alights in transit where the dark mood and bats have fled;

What riddles so industrious as the ant and so hideous

as the witch at endor had chockled and fathomed his honed steel

Where groggy fain is chortled and  bayed with bated breath

Grating the aroma of silence .

Twain so easily and go claming around circus that courted

clairvoyance

Like the Parthian shot and the grenades the Bard

drops so easily the grating wheel  that sleeping dogs may not lie .

Little strokes fell great oaks and live not to dream

but dream to live  

The hungry wolf with the green mood and the eagle

Alights as the old greybeard gets to groove and incenses

See a cast swine before pearls and not so rosy  , racing horse

thus began anew;

Garlands never come to bay Where frills and furbelow

In the mettle of orgy Is ride away .

Like a cowboy that Covets the cow catches no

sparkle even at dusk .

The firer on the firing line fires no escape but

clear cut fire away with no alarm to fire .

Gallantry belongs to those with  memory of no returns

to the land of no return they go wherein  they wish to

sell their souls

Old fussy pot ! old fussy pot !!

Furtively gadding away from dreams and forlorn hope

Never comes to barn door.

Aristomagnetism saves the firer lured from the dunghill

Of grey hack street .

Tame  now all the colors of rainbow with its grappling

hook 

Be not a goose boo  nor swan geese at gore.

Raise the gorm and the  gorge above the Gordian knot.

Like lightning assume steady temperament be light fingered

But not giddy to light off the foxes and the forest torching the

Temperament according to the lights of wits.

Smashing goofy gorilla hurdles

And the gregarious haunts and chants

That frets varicose veins  in the jungling

and  rumblings of vulgarity

With the grappling hook Of aristo-magnetism

Count on me ! gather muster !

For  the coast is clear and the cast to coast is crystal

Before all grist to the mill.

Spreading the tentacles that will save and many more

Bright jewels that await the gallows and the guillotines.

The morning is fallen and the morning becomes the night forever

refrain to relinquish sacrilege

The forest is green

O what a pretty salvation from the hook !

Grin and bear it and grime out into new dawn

To hang your tent and lance over this bed

Jockey old  horse never cease to jockey for position

Jung ling away with the fuss and the barbarian’s

For a pound worth of gold.

Never can jockey tossed out many coins at the fret

Of jockey old horse .

And the muster of this hook in coy merry to servile

fain pound worth of gold .

The klaxon as the hooks lay bare their lashes

And taken to the gallows with the last straw

For the undertaker .

See when it is  today and think  when it is now

Never do what it is now tomorrow ;

The sightseer may lurk not  forever at thy valley  .

Arise ! arise !  and go ;for the coast is clear

O grey matter , had thou not discern it?

At the fret of Maundy money no more

Read the lectern  with the golden hooks

Behold ,Autophobia  covers raccoon coat

Tarnishing brain racking that spurs the hook to utility

Is a living dead Jones to dead Joneses

Red to no charcoal ?

Worth not even a  red cent, had  pounded arts like

 ilk’s into gaol .

They dipped the pen in gall and in this ranch gather muster

Cast off  the  golden stones as if with serial rights of utter

 sedition

And buried in the forgotten sands of history .

Away from the bandwagon and the chants ; Put off the raccoon

frenzy ,the lectern ’s so legible saved from the monster ’.

And the whirlwind Swayed the mettle to stand guard

Wetted and worn out like thrown rags as thrown grenades

uncockles mortal steam

Much said none mended ;Will the cobbler stick to the last ?

Even larger boats venture no more in the stormy seas

THE FLIGHT AND  THE GOLDEN GRENADES

Boyish strength  golden and bubbling  a strayed by epicure

Loved to dwell in tinsel.

So fast to loose Wolfhound to voluptuary hung into tinsel

Took to flight

Paces away and fast eroded and quenched by rubicon

Came down crashing halfway home as old woman catching fire

Raises the eyebrow ;

‘Runs like the rebel must be caught like the rebel ,and caught

 like a rebel must be hung like a rebel .

Arts like vices, vices like arts swoon into ass pirates forever

Into disrepute

And the dance of the primrose  is the dance of sheol wherein

sacrilege is summoned

All the scents of Arabian Cannot cure ,take muse ,take muse !

Wits plead for no bat ’

And thus weary of chaste returns chaste for chaste

Wherein chaste is pounded into ire at the cockling of chaste.

‘Take  no offence .See , an old greybeard returns to the valley

And bid me for a sojourn with the alien ass pirates ;

What is the fate of a Lilliputian ?’

‘May the ass gore swiping with the gory tales at dismast muster

Never return with the golden bough to the living spring !

The epic is golden make your morning  shine and the golden

morn makes the day

Morning never spent well, blossoming with the dew of youth

Returned night well earned

And the night not well frozen at the morn befuddles buzzard at dusk

And the shadows is golden as the grave

For those who run into fate never run away from fate

That they might run into fate and be hanged by fate.

Then by detest,  the paradise shall be turn into hell

And the grave a living abode and men  that never do well never

 live well

Behold , he that you have seen

The old greybeard Is the supernatural master

Of the universe

And his fellow brother mangled beaten and massacred

Is taken for a  revenge.

He who makes the dead comes out alive  is his wonder

And the hook as the golden torch comes easily resurrected

 to tame and to adore his colours of rainbows.

This bard from Alupluto together with his ageless twin brother

Authored the whole caboodle of nature

And the labyrinth and the gulf widens as the epicure tarnish their apotheosis

He that is saved by them Is saved by none and he that is saved

by none Is saved by them

The sands of life are running out Wind out the sagging sail for

 the epic of golden morn

Remember pass muster vamp up hell and  old muggings fret a

 mugger’s dawn

Return ye therefore to the ministry and save thy golden  heritage

And the sinking ship of thy people ’

Then as  she alights Into nearby cave or hut, the thrown grenades

Fiery as hell were too much to bear .

With unfair steps detached to twain graces out of revels its love ;

 Now with drooping whetstone wanton to jocund  sarcasm

Betwixt crimson with caisson doured and torn by the fury of vicissitude

The feet of the greyhound Seeks for safety .

Sallow salt of the earth runs out the sands of life .,and the tinsel town

and the zombies dance  away seventh heaven  at the sail of  the raiders

Will folly overflow its bank ? Or desecrated golden morn ?

No goose is laid that golden egg might be laid .

At the outskirts of the city the young chap resting his low ebb

After a day ’s job with fair sight and plump passion.

His garlands rests in entreaty to sport fain  and merry in the mill.   

And again he go to plunge his till rather than painting his town red

Engrossed the swineherd .

Was confronted by passing stranger , the greyhound plummeted by

Despair benighted and recounted the narrative

As if tempting lips sought to begrime the fair girth;‘Forty winks now

 no more  , there lies the old greybeard Came down from the forest of

Alupluto Sought my hand in battle .

And suddenly this  fiery form no man ever seen and  no ever known that  no one beffuddles

Exit the vanishing point like the whirlwind,

And the labyrinth and the gulf swamp over bogged mettle

Time untested spring froth unripe  

The old melting fire Compounded this gravity hell-bent from

 the north to the south country

Medley froth ‘n’ moles had they trigger along as eternity wishes

 To take the  soul for Unfulfilled dream

Who will serve this ministry ? Wherein valiant men had fallen

Levers I have not and the royal steam far away

The garrison belong to military  even the sly as fox is strange away

The raiders had taken the golden heritage  

The best of farm field returns and the lab ours of the old and young

Had gone to the forest gangsters

For appeasement ,for relief ,for sacrifice and for servitude.

How come old Harry taints first blush oil wheels .

Digging into clambake clams and the ire

With  tilts  woven into clams and clambake ’

Like the old greybeard he did enthuse: Waylaid the  clams and the clambake’

The mason forth is frozen into trenches ; Can the mason castle clean the

Augean stables ?

With no grappling hook as the anchor of the soul; the mason forth indeed

 is frozen into gall

 These protrusions are profound  and dipped in tongue of diversity

Replenished by orgy of grief , but goofed failing to catch the spook.

The stripling not over swayed Subjugated and swinish

Cast swine aboard: Away! Away !!.ye fugitive in a strange land

Who has shown thee the way that thou mightest contend ?

What knowest thou that thou mightest struggle

What thou seest not ? ’

See how dull boy fan the ire into netherland and the stitch at the 11^th

 hour refuted  the salvation train

Here he goes again In the power of the grenades with ego thrown aboard

Spooky charm never healed ,more than a tile loose tick off ass.

Haunted by neuter neurosis ; man jack twice beaten forever shy

AS if machine gun nest dribbles away sought to hide in tinsel .

The terror never let loose  Only the night but also the grave.

Like a thunderbolt ,Like a lightning strike In  the stroke of

the greybeard  .

Lilies in the liver liver in the lilies and the greyhound skeltering

For refuge Is no more caught in the grenades.

And the gulf and the labyrinth swells at the girth of lost souls .

See a liege man ’s stripe Is worth the tide than the net hers.

And the breath of the sheol ,a tender bud that strove for the tide.

Far flung from the swine herd jungle, they laid the ambush .

In the wee hours relish the blood hound and the souls that never

Returns.

Ten a penny ten a dime  held in thralldom of  a dozen dime

And swung into froth they steed .

The tenderfoot and the mightiest trees are fallen .

In the city square tenterhooks arose out of tepidity

 And fallen gauntlet abound and the forest walk –a graveyard away.

The old woman driven tenses hung into ferret came down

 Tendering.

Where the grief sallow and the nethers sate dances human meteor

against the tide

To the swine herd baste did she go to return chaste :The tidewater is

 Raging and like whirlwind Is everywhere .

The white elephants and the Lydian’s in the jungle grimaces

the land of Alupluto.

Garrote skulks in the loop , yea  the gaping loop and everywhere

 with unfair sight feeds on broken homes .

Gorilla of hurricanes is not farther away ;Will we bury in the tide ?

And when will the morning come ? Where is the feet of greyhound ?

Had thou not neglect the travelogue ’s frenzy and the filthy lucre

-- thy  swine delight  nor adorn the detest of the  oracle ?

That thou be saved with thy mill and paradise May come !

Grist to the mill is as grist to hell and grist to hell in a broken land

Is broken gouge swept off  to sink from  bay at sea .

Behold the daggers drawn  , had  the  Rome  not set on fire ?

The trickling hell would soon be everywhere .

No one to save no one to live and none to deliver .’

‘Who will save thee thy soul and  the nirvana ?

Wherein swineherd lucre prevent thee at thy neighbour beseeching

Until the nether’s fret balloon .

Pay off within nature ’s old score ;for the gander ’s sauce  Is the

goose’ sauce

The golden goose and the golden egg Are no more ………

The road is dicey , the road is dicey,  hey … the road so much

unfair  is very dicey

Even a  close shave  never comes to thee , When thou art red to see

Sending into gaol and driven farther away by gall a  good Samaritan .

The golden egg  and the golden goose also fell Into tinsel.

Dare turn the table , be not in tenterhooks , away , away, flee , flee and

never here return

The gander ’s sauce is the goose   sauce…..

O thou holy binges indulge not in vain

The grass and the snake flock together

 The grass is the snake and  the snake Is the grass ,

The banditry is farther away from the sponge never let go the muster

and the hell,

Lampooning the old grey beard oracles Ceaselessly won the rubber   ,

And the night terror their vicinage wherein no one returns .

The oracles prowl in  vain Whose villains eye fattens the game

Can you move heaven and earth ?

The Rome is set on fire ,and the Medes and the Persians are there ,

Their ensigns raised blown top  at the city square  as naivety beffuddles

 terror ,

 Held in serfdom never to abate but the gulf and the rampage .

Men of power cometh but once in a lifetime ;Only to be forgotten for eternity .

And thereafter men of truth , beaten black red and blue by the winds.

Turn grey but grim death came out weary only to  last forever .

The forest wherein they were hewn and tendered is the legacy of ageless times .

The shamelessness of a nude statue and the shallowness of the pan ;

Nor the senselessness of a stone adorn their tent

See little good done in due times Out of no merit save tomorrow’s

And a stitch at the 11^th hour Save all

The golden goose is gone but who  Will lay the golden egg ?

For Rome is set on fire and now who will save  Alupluto from the marauders and

The frenetic rampage? ’.

Now poaching by  poohing and  poohing Is gone and sentiment fly no more at

The turning of the turtles .

Pulsing and pulsing ferments With empty purse ,Seems to grasp all loose all ;

Where great haste to lucre makes great waste and the world and the

swineherd a villain burden of sheol,

Struck  and stuck into queer street as old woman bade for the cave

The drowned rat now with the rat’s smell hung into quivive and

great tremolo.

Hardly moved an inch still in quod of the rampage .

May this deign that nature erupts red for flint nimbly as it were ;

Gins to chide the hazy harp of a defiled moor?

So gross to sink and wooed to blush ,blinding smoke blusters spark that

fires tremor as demystification doth lend its fury ,

But so soon  had this fallen along over flown by flop ; did he not wiggle?

Even as denigration climbed stealthily into cleft .

Fain heady smithereens rashly and deftly wrinkled .

Seemingly stuck  even as the heathen heed urchins .

Harbor bicker remorseless sobs not at blush .

Alas,  the artifice of the jungle is bungled by the jungle

And the jungled by the bungled; will they clamour ?

But with the blood of the tinsel hails tinsel where many sell their souls

Where fancy kills and fancy rot tens,

And the grappling hooks long interred In the cemetery that enslaved

Aluplutans

No voice was heard, hardly no moaning and no groaning enterprise.

The shout of terror Ventilates and flexes mangled mood .

Badgering the ire he did not; neither pox on sight his raving delight

His woman goes to the market ;his man stays at home

What is the problem with Alupluto ? That  eye for eye may return

 no--eye for eye

 As Indian file  marches into smother at the expense of no Thames

 on fire

The fairer sex art lulled in to hedonism sail under false colours and

 escutcheon

With thrown dust the city groped the dark at  the  rapture of 

elysian night  

The white elephant luxury grotty fain pests grotty foul

Stuck to gully and struck in fie rhythm.

The marauders ’ nest loved to keep and to strengthen the stranglehold

These breeding trees and the breeding forest had fallen Alupluto

There  the  sun had  risen never to rise again at the billow of the  pests

  And the rhythm.

‘Will they go to Coventry ?’ The old greybeard  once enthused .

‘Still then when will the grappling hook  return ?’

And  white elephant luxury can then follow lead

To fasten  covert mutiny that works calumny against marauders’ golden night

 of villainy .

The greyhound , no more gunned down at its prime ; Whence cometh the new

 dawn ?  

Even as the bard of Alupluto took to Salve at the forest of green mountain

The golden goose never lay the golden egg ,

Hopping the twig when the sun is dawn ;and  Herod gully adorns the hoots and the raspberry

Caught in the primrose path froth him not unripe ,but with no hook sealed the darkest hour .

A sunshine hurl into gorges never comes to summit ,

The bard and the medium and the old woman now barrows the knightly pun

The messenger of doom –the cave dweller ;

Sent to the Lydian in the jungle that urchins might wobble  until the threshing floor lay this  egg ,

He by above and prettily  by beneath gins to bulge in the battle of the

 bulge ;Wherein Aluplutans sell their souls,

And bewitched by white elephant hedonism and sinking hook that

widens this gulf from the relief of oracles .

               THE  JUNGLE  OF  ALUPLUTO

In the  jungle of  Alupluto; there in the jungle

Arose a scintil-abo with a scintal-ados taken not uncommon

To chanted grit neither hung he to tinsel nor to drab  .

Given much to ferret than to fret ,creeping in naivety along with the

knackery of a sentinel

Much fouled sighted than much sighted sawed and malnourished

among the crooked trees of Alupluto whose veins voluptuary  

had pounded into gaol

Lively as the cricket and faster than the umpire to the mystery man in the

jungle did he go.

Engrossed in the liege of  the Bard ;when the sun is down he takes to gauntlet

To unearth the spring of the sepulcher

How dingy duel salted dingy doured

Hardly had he taken the leave of morning sun much ferret than fret binges into

 much fret than ferret

 And lo swings and twinges as the twinkling of wits grimaces swagger  through the jungle of  Alupluto

Alupluto , Alupluto , Oh…..Alupluto who will save thee from maurauders’nest

And the  bard chronicling boozed frenzy  and turned knackery  into steamship  thus it began :

• O  morning sun plays the cameo !
• O mores o nearest  play the dearest
• That no man be hit when he’ s down
• And not so deaf none so blind
• As those who fail to hear and see
• That bridge should not be damned before it is crossed
• Till no gains be without pains
• And no pain without gain
• That riddles might posed no threat
• For nothing succeed like success
• And nothing fails like failure
• What is today ’s today must be done today
• And today ’s tomorrow must be done today
• For tomorrow’s can only be achieve today
• A  foundation  when failed becomes a missing link forever

The greyhound played host to this oracle but never taken to heart

Had he not come to adore this oracle trodding  could be  impugned let alone

 in the jungle where many lost their souls

 And thus again it sweetens up to recite :

  She is the mother of invention yet has no law

  And come to fill the vacuum that nature abhors

  Where much cry ……………………………….

  …………….contd[turn to Oracles of the Bard of  Alupluto].

With one golden pledge that passion pleads did he raise the steam

In the epic of golden morn .

Laid open to bridle first  from the jungle  summon of the bard –the mystery man living

Wherein wooed into serfdom is wooed into knackery for the epic morn.

Passing the swine herd and the cave dweller headed the green mountain

The voice of the cricket and the screeching of the owl  put horror into grooves as tremor

Enveloped the forest swagger

Passing the night was a wonderment whose leash straining  steamrollers hip and  stoutheartedness  is nothing  but a groundswell of the aristomagnetic and the golden hooks eager beaver which was buried by the greyhound at the cemetery .

The bard passing off from summerhouse spotted the little bloke before the sunset  and did he not call him to order in the wild wild jungle  :

THE BARBARIANS  IN THE  JUNGLE

Thy manhood shall tell thee when thou shall quit

Turning off the orgy of ignition calling balm from the sea

When thou canst find them .

And they that   feel by thee shall come  none nigh thee.

Plead the wits o man

In this vertigo  and orgy embedded in a strange land

Where many sell their souls

Long after they are  gone  will they not be lived behind ?

Flesh for flesh flesh against flesh

And then shall thou clique to their bosom

O    you knave !

When will thou whittle and winnow  the voluptuous deign of

wanderlust ?

And wince away woolgathering

Time tested yang froth thee not unripe

And lo, thou say ‘yelp ’ and then yank to wrangle no more

The bombastic leap of  a yahoo gambol

Behold arts that were without vision

Ended without mission and a mirage before times

Being fraught to judge when cast overboard judge thee foul

And morning and weeping grow only to themselves

When arts and mission are  distant cousins apart  and  alien

To the sacrosanct of the mile

Yet with one more mile  thou didst refuse to go

Get stuck  to wiles and witty gazeth not thee in vain

Not so light to love nor be strange to adorn swelling

That thou be not preen to voluptuary ----------contd

Tick away not thy self tick away not thy time and prime

Fingers caught in the till mend fences  soonest

Make haste ; a great tide is flown over the valley and the forest

A bizarre wigging at foxes to dwell ’’

But  who will swim the tide above the ridden tiger ?

It was a cliffhanger borne from a tinge into tingle

Hardly a tickled pink but whacked and trammeled the voluble

And a concise did he not muster:

With wanton tramps budding bones and gathering rosebuds had trampled

The trellis and treasure trove of a golden morn

Ages and tidal swept over earth unsullied by velvety

Until the dying sun sets in and the venture had no censure against the

undercurrents

Will they now launch  tail  wagging  and wiggings at dusk ?

And trump up brainwashing against the unwieldy wildcats and  the

whore houses that moorings may boon

Whose flings the golden morn had fret and the clamor for their clangor  to

be heard.

Cease the lupine thrust ;where no desert is found calling for the lullaby frets

 in vain.

Garrote skulks in the loop  kinks and kimbos frays the beaming kirtle  

Caught in suspense and pun-droned revile in return :

‘Thou sleepest none sleepest foul sleepest well

Are burning gallows lutarious ?

Where foul begins and vices foments ,there forever it ends

And there forever it returns to cascade the downpour once reviled  .

Spreading the moisture once impugned by common crass and common cold ’

Drizzling pun into wormwood and wormwood into pun yalked into lumber

 He clasped to chaste by boomerang  the luster is lull-fallen .

Has the grating grill being over ? The chaste had become baste and baste had become chaste

And vertigo did wield nature to master this mace swelling tumulus over the mantle of lung power .

The champagne is half-quenched and the cleavages of a crumpet caressed with

giddying tremor .

Winebibbing and overwhelmed by intermittent snogs so engrossed and deemed as

 paradise moisture .

To sink the scum of the earth and scummer ’s intemperate claws torn between

Scylla and charybdis.

With ship lost at sea hell in a jiffy and coal scuttling swim the tide away but the tramp ’s

Vagrancy and Wallow trenches  regain rhythm

‘ Honey had we not play this greybeard foul ;so seek to fain to blow him dry ?

Hung in tremor to empty passion and unfair lips closed upon fair lips

To jolly and to fun pure same flowers where pure same wrath flocks underground

And still we wink to keep the revels blotted by escutcheon ;Where steam is hell

 and hell is steam .

Leaden not thy fox to loop this grouch and the trenches fallen ;where guard is fare

to foul ’’

Epicure  is the lord at Alupluto and hangs no more but forever .

Long bridle plays not sport for the fairer sex and time not advantage and pretty

 refutes entreaty .

Summon fairer sex into old stints ,tempting lips let it not sway thee .

And for gaping loop spread not thy bosom ;let them rejoice until sweet cunt merry

Hangs at menopause albeit a fleeting passage .

Thine eyes shall not be grey ;let it luster in the lilies and never toy to leaden appetite

And sworn to arts never to blab piety lest you forget ephemeral gaunt of epicure.

That long passage have to offer for the transient gourmand ,not enough to empty

Devilish passion 

Rally around epicure o fairer sex before the great summons into old stints  .

All the colours of rainbows being so fair to beauty and so dainty jewels to wear

Fain mine eyes  beyond the gaping loop and the colour blue moons .

And so are all men alike ;never frosty a sex life until dusk and even then still

Apt to toy ,apt to darn and to jest and to merry tramps and the flowers of eve

For the long passage

Whose dour piety and martyrdom  did revile as the sacrilege of sainthood and the fury of hell

Haunted in flurry and flustered into life gaol that moorings may boom piety

flowers of eve  benumbed for all time .

O ye tramps sing not the carol when it is sung and the sun shines and fallen on thy earth

Neither  muse the ally to sojourn  thy  gyrate nor bridle dare to censure .

Sharp by steam and hot as foundry though sandy by hurdles to trod

And hover on the landmine of indulgence where ephemeral beckons thee .

And Lo amidst hues and cry  vapour away factory fodders to rollick the junkets and the whore princesses

PROFESSOR ABRAHAM SONNETS'DIARY.SONNET-139

But why thy nonchallance demystifies,those tender churls are golden pearls,And being freed,no ransom paid,for those willing to be paid,Indeed,the price of freedom is paid by those aparachniks,which makes men free,So oft have i inviolably burdens thee,not to opt for this ruse,When fairness in my verses speak to the obeisance of thy navel,Over this hazy lines, that hath got its perusal,And every tutelage dispatch'd aboard,not dumb bald pate disposes,Yet not proud of outcome positives,which i compel,Whose tardiness on roadless travelled is thine in the ensconce of time,Whisked into vintage time for the defence of liberty and defence of history,over its sweetest graces plow,And not for offence,when thou art gone, Shall thou be better lived with the epitaph long after thee?That 'neath as thy plaited lines inscribed:Glorious Herald and Golden Pearls,voluminous days and full of silvermoon,impactful and lived to the vertex',this backward violets oft did they slide behind these graffitis,Be thy forsaken as thy willbe

PROFESSOR ABRAHAM SONNETS'DIARY.SONNET-138

Which cummulatives set him dire,in that quirky path of amplitude despondency,Forgone grievances may tothee as abhor'd solitary aloft thy thatch'd roof?Whydidst those pledge if any craft,by remorseful backward violet everrenege or such grandiose delay,and maketh more misgivings climb their willpower to renege,a supplement to extant bales to let not grovel over this deranged clouds,gliding thy slavery in their goof of instinctive trajectory?Tis not an ample nesciency that through this gauchy cloud,thou fractures,To sewer not the brainstorm on thy rot beaten face,for no price of freedom is ever paid of that magnitude in refute of a salve that sees beyond the gauchy cloud,That curls the crafty and the simpleton to the engross,Nor can that a dreadful, aids dose of physic meliorates momentum?Though that ado persists,yet have they been more monumental in loss;The defender's platitude greedily lends but the doses from a lion's paws,To him that willeth in the gallows of guillotine and the forest where men waste souls.

PROFESSOR ABRAHAM SONNETS'DIARY.SONNET-137

So,it hardly evaporates its gushing streams from triumphant hills,Indiferent to lurk like the shameful,in that his homage dearly pays and never desecrates,But if by smartness alone, glory dies and warriors bickering beneath hill may not reach ashore in the tumultuos waves,Then harp this clue-Why art so gully quirky a path that history differs?Lords of my pedagogue pays the price and makest the difference,This merit sturdily knit,times can not freight unbound,in wanton words and dire conceit bestows it,over lugubrious earth's potentate crave,Why weary with toil that thou to the bed at night hastened and still undazed? What zealous pilgrimage to ply,yet drooping eyelids persist in a purblind dumb heir of a shadowy ambush?What happy flight and doth him clemency when gauchy cloud do blot the backlash to the back of beyond whereon barndoor hit is thrown?Then i scorn this tardy lull when to the seasons of this tacit moult,gregarious thought if not privy cannot summon,And with old bales,novel bales cummulative.