BARBARIANS’ OAKS AND THE
GROVELLERS
This poem is written in the poetry novel format,in contrast
to poetry versification like sonnet,controsonnet,hexameter,terza rimma etc.The
poetry novel is a new standard like controsonnet,devised by the novelist poet.Read
on.
1
Upon this primrose bank of white elephant luxurious acquiescence
and inebriated acuity ,did they hung their lance as the ahoyed jetsams , in their acropolis
of
acrobatic lust.And their
chins,floating upon a caisson,like a longuer’d pearl-diver ,not cognizance of
peering through a stormy sea surge,who
being steer’d by sloth,still numb as naivety crickets bonemarrow; to take
contending might,into an elongated truce ,which acute long an algorithm,have
not widget’d,making sandy feet to wobble,from its boggy swamp.And one
temperamental naïve and rashness,shall pay this burden and burble of countless debt,So,hastily offer they
by torpedo of passion,what they as raving debonair,they did crave;But when
they,flinthearted coteries, by fastened lurk,were bristl’d and ecclips’d for
the ebullient downwind, they roil and rogue with rodomontade,as Romeos of
quicksilver’d punctillios and hence retreat with immoral lust.
Never did a fiddling in a factitious Fahrenheit,more
sanguine,for lust than they for this vile at Alupluto,They by prejudice ,succor,
they retreat away,but succor at home,they cannot get; They lush in facile and revel in a factious
facsimile,yet its fire as bellweather friends must burn;‘O
barbarians,pity-glots’gan he lament’ puerile lax;tis but a roil,they dunce,why
art thou no solitude indure,that thou mayest freak not as Aluploto’s
prince,salvaged thy badlands and motherland?Why art thou no sedulous brisky?
‘ I have been savag’d as I woo thee now,by top etchelon of
absolutism,even by the pungent goddess of purgation,whose drawn sword,still
unsheath’d never did refrain in its razzling razzmatazz,who grovels,where they
jabber in every facile; yet hath they been my topflight barbarians,razzling and
tittletattling,tiresome in every turn,And
not trit’d for that triumphalism like the old sleigh bells,for thou which thou
resolv’d to do.Over this altar,hung I impuissant,hath they too,impuissant factious
as they trenchant growl,effeminate plow ,they with batter’d shield flung its
tirade and pettiness of sportish crest,making my tent blurr’d as my feet,as
well as the bed upon which I lay’.
With rapined ire of red
rosecheeks,Femi stood appalled and squinted’Barbarians grovelers!’’ ‘’ Oh
yea,look in mine eyeballs,this viscid vim
of yokels,ragamuffins and yobbos of high places,stoop to
vulgar,racketeering its yen,out of leadened sprite, for the weary sun,doth they burn in weary soil,
darkened faces,overwhelming their unwieldy feet ,hegemony frosty, so guile and
its malediction so unkind ,this vampirism of a vindictive vampire bats,vaporized
the coarse soil of the thespian birds of passage,alas, a thimbleful floats
ashore this rudderless bank,things of palladium,but of no precedence
bred,whammed their complexion,fie of no ransom and a senseless stone,And turgid
passion doth provoke a kleptocrazy.’’
And now ,Osomo,in reprisal,riveted
at the poolside,as jasmine scented the air,the fragrance twined the night breeze
as he yearned but leaned on poolside staircase.The rythmn and synthesis of his
binoculars,like birdwatchers,rapturing kaleidoscopes and birds of
preys,sublim’d at bird’s eye view,ransacked how he weeps in retrospection and
pondering on tenterhooks the rabid taekwondo of these stymied birds of prey, Now
gazeth he upon him and strident,did he stranglehold;’I’be no foolhardy,to graze
on thy primrose lips,to feed where thou wilt,struck at pale of distant
hills,thou shalt no rise thee,from specious vomit,even though,thou a thousand
sinews stretched,to shelter thee from the tempest of varicose vein,straws of mendacious dimple.’
‘Close thy gully mouth,to so
steed, be no hypnotized,to swallow cavernous gulf of the heart,Being
stir-crazy, before ,by vampires,how doth they now jockey for wits?Deceit
avalanche at first ,what a deceit astounding ,strike them countless times ?poor
maid of voluptuous bank,in thine own hand art thou breedeth more scorn,forlorn to freak that
meeds at thee in contempt!Now which shall they go,behold
revolution!revolution!!revolution!!! when ,where and how shall they do it?Their
demagoguery are vile ,the bales ,more creeping ;And judgement is penal,her
intendment is banal;breaking this stranglehold,and to them,they the revolution
goes as they embrace their Bolshevik-like impunity.’
2
‘You, Voluptuous bank crazy ?’
‘oh yea,it is the voice of wit,listen to it,feed from its lectern and let me an
utterrances broached of my poetry,versified
in terza rimma:
VOLUPTUOUS BANK
’flamiferous bird of passage contendest
lay,
on the sole doctrinaire of
classless struggle,
Marx bridle unimpinged and Engel
trumpet
be.
To whose voluptuous bank proletariats,
Cringest but thralldom tend’st
expunge,
O voluptuous bank,let manques and
Paroxysm,
Of maudlin,so gluttonously,hoist
thee,
But thou,shrinking violet of the
proletariat,
Foulest thee earnestly as
piety,opium of the
Masses,
A gangrened and lumpy inference
of the
Feverish eaon,
Foulest earnestly twinge as foul
play,dances
On the trod,
To this Trojan horses,trudge,thou
not stampede
to victory,
From this numb and
benumb,leviathan stalks,
Every ligature of the nebulous
clouds,wicket’d
by
downwind cliffs,
Like a bulwark,fasten the
sailors,prowling,
forlorn’d seas,
An expedition that vanguards the
nocturnal
Waves so stringent,
Malign now thy quest as thespian
manqué,
That derelict,nincompoop and
pintsize can
Be the maledictive
sheol-impounded malaise,
Lest the malevolence encrusted
requiem,malignant
Sings,
And thou maladroit,maze of
maudlin deadbeat,
Frisk scorching fire,
That thy miscarriages and barren
meadow,fallowest
-plough’d,
With the writ to wit,thou drovest
verecund at a
Furlong,
Stainest melanged,mellifluous megalomania,crest’st
Thou trod,
To ambush thy deceit and hit its
direst clouds;here
the epitaph,
Doth inscribes; dissectomy and
meoisis is cardinal,
To brown study,aproned by meditation and
metaphors
Sate,
In a meticulous dread of a
meteoric vale,so the banter’d,
As writs like a nuptial knot ,
coagulate with wit’s end,
Had the moiety,the modicum,espoused
its errantic
Humour,
3
Distinctiveness and pristine
lores adorned with eagle eyed
Dungs,
When juxtaposed,embellished the
sand dunes and vulgar coast,
Dossiered with dovecote of
ineptitude and reddened from
nebulous clouds,
Aristomagnetism met a brickwall
and dunghill asunder
,yet mendest remote,
Repose, distilled with heavenly
showers and bereft of
fugitive gestures ,
As requisite,betwixt the dissectomy
and the meiosis
Of the whole ontological shebang.
But in them by bibliocrazy,were a
wonder to behold,
So,betwixt them,writ did unveil
the mastication of the
wit’s end,
That dissectomy ,broke the fallow
ground,of the
infecund meadow,
And vulgar coast,fructiferous,but
unflappable,flaming
In its meteoric vale,
Either way was
passionometric and passion supplanted,
Wit was thus appalled to be
betrothed and foible masticated,
That both thighs and hips were
not undissimilar,must be
Beyond scupper, be ploughed by
deigh,on the indian files,
Neither pizzazz was scaled back
nor forlorn battle won its
decisive plow
From a tunnel vision into
broadway vista,wit in itself startled,
Evidenced by conundrum, and meiosis broken down,when writ
Is summoned,
To their concord,yet disposed or
indisposed,cringest not afar,for
its overflowing bank,
A thimbleful is on the plow,a
thimbleful is on the plough,behold,
A thimbleful is enamoured,
Mammoth with nebulous
feet,marching on the hurricanes and
Landmines of nebulous clouds,
The descent into nethers,plungest
untiring;for voluptuous banks
Were not so acquainted,
What a wight ,spirituous and
squawking,whose yellings become
A quirky pall,a pasty pastime,
That seemeth indulging this
bulging but infantile distendeth
Scoundrel!
Aristomagnetism hath ventured
writ to wit,mated by meiosis,
When dissectomy,ploughs its
meanest shores;trigonometry
Of an equation,balance speaks,
If what polymorphosis at its tendon seeths,can
so much a pastime
rodeo encrusts,
Whereon upon this maroon and caisson,it bays to the
consternation
Of the dissident,apotheosis,
Bulwarked by rountine of this
trigonometry,shall the arithmetics be
Eulogized and mystified,
AS stormy seas blinking before
confounded tragi-comediots benumbed,
To all eternities doth lurk and
lie my penfriend and boon companion,
-o voluptuous bank,my mortar of holy
curiousity!’
4
‘You bard at Alupluto,gestures
cannot be repaired once pastures,to the meadows
its horses graze,burrowing cedars bereaved! You mean trigonometry,what
import,thou obscurantist?’
‘threesome,every conundrum,
pleads for a caesarean ,for every bit of
animadversion.YEA TRIGONOMETRY art sewered at ALUPLUTO and shall someday
perdition akimbo-ed.Barbarians gather beneath cedars and talk away
lifetime,minacious depredators from the northcountry,in fest of fifth columnist
thus thrive,Palladium o palladium ,why did you sleep?’
Obstreperous blackspots,blanched Alupluto and ornated by
hedonism,a repertoire of white elephant luxury.And they moved closer ,to plait
a visage and a sentinel.
On both side of the
cedars,cadence plunges
Its vociferous precipices,a
bazaar of yobbos,
Barbarians grovel in their
thousands,and thousands
Hood’d in their barbarian
cocoon,not pilloried by
Alupluto‘s downwind,cyclone of
chaste felt not their
Daemons’swagger,cranks of the old
dickens,countryside
baboon.
Bunch of sociopathic soap operas
of erratic soapboxes
fret the air unease.
The festering sore of street
urchins and ragamuffins,ogled
from their sockets,
Aluplutans themselves thrice
fouler than Alupluto’s ordeal itself
,stinks high heaven ,
Over this fastidious borderline ,Alupluto’s boulevards botch,
Above and beneath its garrison of
sedentary hoist,stood the
Bouffant bridle,
Brassmonkeye’d,bovin’d,brass’d,brash’d,brandi’d
and brink’d
At the guillotine’d bubble,
O,What a brinkmanship,that gins
to immodest,and there where
The passion ends,doth anew it
begins,
Now doth the fifth columnists
play its guile,now doth they connive
With the bandits,
And bashful shame,they burn
not,and hid remorse ,where albeit
exterminated ,
Lays the flaccidity of the voluptuous
bank’s bubble of trigonometry,
Still they burnish and prettily
still they burnish,decrepit of palladium
Burrowing,
for to a filthy ear,they stale even its burlesque,and greedily,burlesquely
sullen frets,
And still the narcotic tales,plank’d
with contending sensations,raconteurs
Unleash’d,till they take truce to
stare blank.
So offer they in their facile of
facetious façade,to fritter away their
Treasured troves,
Being factititious,they love it
best ;and being crimson’d ,their
Eagle,the blue sky turneth not
back,
Look ,how servile to retreat,they
cannot retreat and by that unfair
Girth of blemished hand,sheol
raises its chins,
Which avalanche long have rain’d
to pilfer the commonwealth,
Under this cedar,a fourscore
thimbleful of barbarian grovelers
Banter,
And to winkle by winnow,a winsome
modicum, for the great
Expedition,Femi and Osomo’s
Bovin’d entreaties falter,before it began.
Nibbling on the ground ,the tip
of his shoe,crippled by
Vicarious
