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328 · Nov 2022
Candidato del Sindicato
ConnectHook Nov 2022
Yo fui a botar.
Yo encontré basura.
Luego la boté.
Hay q controlar la botación
ConnectHook May 2018
Ah, beautiful and pitiful! ah, last
And fairest of the daughters of the Past
Born out of time and in most grievous days
When unto beauty men mete out no praise !
Lone Gothic princess, all your line is dead:
The glory of your race is vanished: fled
Is that high faith that should have found in you
Its meet delight and its expression true…
from: Ode to the Woolworth Building;
'Tropicaltown and other Poems',
Salomon de la Selva; 1918

https://archive.org/stream/tropicaltown00selvrich/tropicaltown00selvrich_djvu.txt
327 · Apr 2019
Definition
ConnectHook Apr 2019
♠ ♣ ♥ ♦

Define Black Light:

Turn on the Black Right

to disperse the White Left

as they turn on their own

(that not-too-bright left)

until, bereft of light

they are left without fight,

lost in their own night.

Intensify that white rift

to get the right lift.

Unite the Light Right

with the Dark Right

to make the light bright;

or we will all be left

in a dark night.

It’s OK

to be RIGHT.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RmuFIM4meXg
327 · Jan 2018
Reflections on Ester
ConnectHook Jan 2018
Mordecai (hallowed gatekeeper)
triumphs over Haman (gallowed hate-keeper)
Shout-out to my Jewish peeps
(the GOYIM know !)
327 · May 2018
Blasón
ConnectHook May 2018
José Santos Chocano (1875-1934)

Soy el cantor de América autóctono y salvaje:
mi lira tiene un alma, mi canto un ideal.
Mi verso no se mece colgado de un ramaje
con vaivén pausado de hamaca tropical…

Cuando me siento inca, le rindo vasallaje
al Sol, que me da el cetro de su poder real;
cuando me siento hispano y evoco el coloniaje
parecen mis estrofas trompetas de cristal.

Mi fantasía viene de un abolengo moro:
los Andes son de plata, pero el león, de oro,
y las dos castas fundo con épico fragor.

La sangre es española e incaico es el latido;
y de no ser Poeta, quizá yo hubiera sido
un blanco aventurero o un indio emperador.
Coat of Arms

I am the untamed voice of native America,
my lyre has a soul, my song an ideal.
My verse is not cradled and hung in the foliage
with the paused to-and-fro of a tropical hammock…
When I’m feeling Inca, I pledge my vassalage
to the Sun, who offers the scepter of his royal power
when I feel Hispanic and evoke colonial slavery
my verses sound like crystal trumpets.
My fantasy hails from Moorish lineage:
the Andes are of silver, but the Lion – of gold,
and the two are alloyed with an epic roar.
The blood is Spanish and the pulse is Inca;
and if not a Poet, I might well have been
A white adventurer or an Indian emperor.
327 · Jul 2019
Greek Fire
ConnectHook Jul 2019
A wry no-sir-opoulos:
Saint George Papadopoulos.
Support from the populace
Enhances the obvious;
To frame him seems frivolous
The plot grows ridiculous
The slander more bellicose
Delusions wax grandiose.
Fake News tried to topple us
With George Stephanopoulos.
Things are getting crazier everyday,
by George...
325 · Apr 2019
The View from Hair
ConnectHook Apr 2019
I fell hard for the head of that Isaac
(note the gravity of my event).
Over Tombstone I soared, on the winds of the Lord
Until Holliday’s bullets were spent.

Floating iceberg, I challenged Titanic
Single raindrop, got lost in the storm;
Genghis Khan’s mongol horse had ideas, of course
Stalin’s mommy kept baby Joe warm . . .

Perspectives from lesser-known players
May improve the morale of the team;
But a view from the edge of the forty-fifth ledge
Will compel true progressives to scream!

Have you noticed the wave on that wizard,
Washingtonian mage of the West?
You may dislike his ways, but it’s only a phase;
Now admit it; his hair is the BEST.

He’s the Cheeto in charge of your nation
Chief constructor of all that is Great.
Though you’re peeved at your loss, Mr. Drumpf is the boss
And there’s no more excuse for your hate.

I’m the roof on Melania’s husband
Call me carrot-top, call me toupée . . .
You can whine all you want, but I’m here to be blunt:
I’m the night after Democrat day.

I’m the hair on your wonderful leader
Driving liberals mad—and beyond.
The Deplorable’s turn: feel the heat, feel the burn;
Oh hilarious orange!  (No . . . blonde.)
PROMPT #17: write a poem that  presents a scene from an unusual point of view.
Perhaps you could write a poem that presents Sir Isaac Newton’s discovery
from the perspective of the apple.
Or the shootout at the OK Corral
from the viewpoint of a passing vulture.
Or maybe it could be something as everyday as a rainstorm,
as experienced by a raindrop.
323 · Mar 2021
Se unen en uno
ConnectHook Mar 2021
Un neurótico

se une

con una erótica
Pithy aphorism for your erudite perusal, señores y señoras
Favor de decirme si se lo lee bien en español o no
322 · Sep 2021
Orange Limerick
ConnectHook Sep 2021
You neurotics, projecting your fears…
We have savored the salt of your tears.
Though he fell with a thud,
(yes, the man was a dud)
We still trolled you with Trump for four years.
He listens to Paula White.
Bwah ha ha ha ha ha--urk

(Choked on my coffee)
322 · Sep 2019
Ruses
ConnectHook Sep 2019
Dissatisfied Democrats’ latest refrain:
First Russia, then Nazis, now finally Ukraine.
What is their newest peeve with 45 Cheeto ?
At this point I cannot even follow their kangaroo court circus because it makes no sense. I get it . . . they hate Trump. Anything else?
322 · Oct 2015
Holy Wordcraft
ConnectHook Oct 2015
Our Lord was dazed from the red –
then raised from the dead.

Faith dies in the room – only to rise in the doom.

Taught… captured:  they roll the stone away.
Caught… raptured. (He stole their own away.)

Tempt ye the womb?
Empty the tomb!
https://connecthook.wordpress.com/2015/08/17/holy-wordcraft/
ConnectHook May 2022
mid-morning shot of lawns in suburbia/something about baseball or football or summer camp/bumbling fool in pleated khakis with mediocre-length hair/unforeseen encounter with blonde in commercial zone[PRODUCT PLACEMENT] familiar boomer-rock or soul music lulls the viewer/neurotic feminized white father loses it over middleclass trivialities/funny overweight guy befriends main character[PRODUCT PLACEMENT] assertive mom obsessed with hokey career too emotionally repressed to nurture her kids/sassy alterna-child presented as wiser than its parents listens to new “edgy” rock-rap/stereotypical Latinos shown eating spicy food and being passionate and colorful/token religious figure prays superficially[PRODUCT PLACEMENT] noble black mentor capable of guiding the primitive unspiritual Caucasians/working-class single mom abused by her ****** boyfriend[PRODUCT PLACEMENT] neurotic dad realizes how good he has it/rebel alterna-kid admits it loves its parents/cringey dance scene to another familiar boomer-era pop song[PRODUCT PLACEMENT] reference to Hollyweird-style New-age Judaism-psychic-pop-mysticism-chaos-theory/sophisticate girlfriend mentions her abortion/enter dangerous crackpot gun-toting extremist citing Bible verses[PRODUCT PLACEMENT] someone befriends gentle new Asian neighbors/constant references to brand-name pop culture during bar scene/funny overweight friend offers main character homely wisdom[PRODUCT PLACEMENT] emo-rock theme with super-bass boost plays while credits roll
321 · Jan 6
Satanic Reversals
ConnectHook Jan 6
Paul as an antichrist—
Jesus as dead:
The devil's deceptions
Can mess with your head.

Church as the enemy:
Lucifer's light
Makes Babylon blacker
Than Egypt's own night.

But God is outside us:
Externally true—
An anchor; a reference point
Greater than YOU.
[...] if you confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus and believe in your heart that God has raised Him from the dead, you will be saved.    
(Romans 10:8,9)
320 · Apr 2018
Synesthetics
ConnectHook Apr 2018
sent over neural pathways
the sight of a scent
could make one wax
transcendent:
Yankee Candle

budding one's tongue
the sound of a taste
may disturb the ears
aural astral waste;
Monosodium Glutamate

to feel the touch
of a sight beheld
might dazzle the senses
beyond defenses:
Tear Gas

Sin is apt
to skew such lapses.
Sin’s esthetic
glimpsed in apses
acts as anesthetic;
dulls our enhanced ecstatic senses:
a synthetic synaptic celestial deception . . .

Make sense?
prompt:  write a poem that includes images that engage all five senses. Try to be as concrete and exact as possible with the “feel” of what the poem invites the reader to see, smell, touch, taste and hear.
319 · Mar 2016
Christ
ConnectHook Mar 2016
Is risen from the dead
(every ****** day)
HALLELUJAH !

now back to poetry...
317 · Sep 2020
Question Q
ConnectHook Sep 2020
Q is everywhere.

Before you know who Q is,
Q has your name and number.

Q says: do not believe Q.

Q is so devious,
So perfectly decentralized
that millions of Q-anons
Think Q is someone else.

Mainstream normie media
is now concerned about Q.

Fake News
is very worried about Q.

Therefore, we KNOW that Q
is nothing to be concerned about.

Q is psy-op hope ****
disguised as popcorn.

I believe Q.

DQ YQU?
Do NOT watch this:
https://youtu.be/2sn4kU-GI5s
316 · Apr 2020
Blind Date
ConnectHook Apr 2020
Frumptart meets Trumptard: it’s bliss forever!

Rainbow twins make pink Indian Summer . . .

Poke your hontas, indigenous lover,

Till Twitter-dumb gets Twittering-dumber.

Having had my fill of a noxious brew

(Militant Marxist Genderqueer free verse),

My soul now seeks a less venomous view:

Write more poetry!  Dispel this global curse.
Can't remember what the lame-*** prompt was...
314 · Apr 2021
Lyric Sow
ConnectHook Apr 2021
As a ring of gold in a swine’s snout,
     So is a lovely woman who lacks discretion
.
                                                   Proverbs 11:22

Bang that thing:

Angry piano,

All black keys,

Sharps and flats;

Pull that ring out of your snout

And POUND that thing.



Then, that ring:

take it, melt it down,

make a mold,

cast a god,

and bow before your idol

(a vicious poem).
NaPoWriMo PROMPT #7:
The shadorma is a six-line, 26-syllable poem
(or a stanza – you can write a poem that is made of multiple shadorma stanzas).
The syllable count by line is 3/5/3/3/7/5.
312 · Oct 2020
All In
ConnectHook Oct 2020
It's time he gets his well-merited fame;
Hard-drivin' Hunter, captured by his game.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Zvke_h-_iE
312 · Apr 2018
Mother Goose-Gas
ConnectHook Apr 2018
Nikki Haley, big on talk
shook her UN tomahawk.
War-path armchair quarterback,
she gave our world a gas-attack.
Repent for all the lies you've told;
the lap-dog narrative waxes old.
Your leash needs tightened. Down, girl. SIT.
You're locked and loaded (full of ****).
Go beat your war-drum to the chief;
we offer you our unbelief
as tragic relief:
globalist stooge
Pentagon fake news
puppet of the Fake Jews
miss missile, Nimrata misinformed
missed the mark
Matriarch
in the dark
Hail Haley
I used to like her, but she is clueless IMO.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kA6UZCgZCmo
Who is her speech-writer?
310 · Apr 2020
Anti-Viral Triolet
ConnectHook Apr 2020
It’s Easter in Coronaland;

The empty malls hold silent air.

There’s paranoia on demand

For Easter in Coronaland.

The baby chickens make their stand;

And pastel rabbit eggs declare:

It’s Easter in Coronaland

In empty malls of silent air.
PROMPT 12: write a triolet.
These eight-line poems involve repeating lines and a rhyme scheme.

Seriously, I think I have written WAY better stuff than this.
It was a completely formulaic write in response to the prompt...
But this Triolet is getting read and the others are barely getting 15 reads per day.
One thing about HP, it surprises one to find out what poetry others pay attention to. It is very counter-intuitive.
I think my recent *****-poem is much better poetically (?)
309 · Apr 2021
Wahmyn Also Has Ideas
ConnectHook Apr 2021
Hyphenated–Last–Name had  opinions.

Hyphenated–Last–Name was stunning & brave.

Hyphenated–Last–Name felt threatened as well as outraged.

Hyphenated–Last–Name spoke for all women everywhere.

Hyphenated–Last–Name took a bold stance for the marginalized.

Hyphenated–Last–Name spoke truth to power.

Hyphenated–Last–Name felt that strict measures were called for.

Hyphenated–Last–Name had her head up her ***.

Hyphenated–Last–Name did not believe in God.
NaPoWriMo prompt #14:
write a poem that delves into the meaning of a first or last name.
309 · Jun 2018
Lyric Novelty
ConnectHook Jun 2018
something radically new:
no caps
        space it weird

drop extra lines

then . . .  
declare that TRUMP is ******

and follow your
devastating poetic blow
with unrelenting
and furious

Virtue-Signaling.
He IS orange fascist white supremacist apocalypse, isn't he ?
Hmmmmmmmm ?
Yes, he is. And actually WORSE than ******.
(And Satan, and your mother-in-law)
ConnectHook Apr 2019
Single monks dwell alone, due to pride
but true monkeys go seeking their bride;
and a monkess (no nun)
loves some rain with her fun
on the street’s sunny simian side.


Cohabiting the sky

suspended droplets and sunlight

cloud vapor silvered with solar illumination:

A MONKEY’S WEDDING !

We shrieked it and jumped around

along that shifting frontier

between childhood and joy

between sunshine and falling raindrops

MONKEYS !

We knew they were entering into conjugal bonds;

nuptial specifics were irrelevant

the celebration was probably far away

in Borneo or Congo or Amazonia . . . or behind the sky

but it was monkeys getting married

only there and then:

along that impermanent line

where the rain didn’t know the sun was out

and the sun did not know it was raining

that fine line: monkeyshine

shout it out (when you were 8)

negative ions in the air

distant yells of children

hopeful smell of peaceful summer neighborhoods

THE MONKEY’S WEDDING
PROMPT #10
write a poem that starts from a regional phrase, particularly one to describe a weather phenomenon.
307 · Apr 2023
Multicultural Indigestion
ConnectHook Apr 2023
The Hostess
Crowned in Afro-tribal headdress,
On her chest a Slavic tunic;
Appearing as a prophetess
Or a schizophrenic ******…

On her wrists ring Irish bangles—
Wrapped round her waist a bright sarong;
On her breast a pendant dangles
Like some Oriental gong.

Multi-kulti represented
As a woman, weirdly dressed.
Every ethnic group is feted
On arrival to the West.


          The Dinner
Everybody bring your dish!
The ethnic potluck has begun.
Afterwards your guts will wish
Your culture had remained as one.

Foods collide and almost mingle
In the cultural melting ***;
Yet it’s hard to find a single
Way to describe this mixed-up lot.

Curry mingles with Kielbasa
Chinese dumplings, Jello, slaw
Deviled eggs, the odd samosa
Beans and rice, cheap sushi raw.

Soul food, Kimchi, Spanish rice,
Pad-Thai, grits, potato salad;
Gastronomic paradise?
Or a nauseating ballad . . .

Out of many, not quite one—
You bravely burp. It’s quite diverse . . .
But as your stomach comes undone
Digestion goes from sad to worse.

E pluribus to Alka-Seltze®
Groaning in your bed at three:
Let it fizz and hope it helps, sir
Lest you doubt diversity…

I’m Diversity. I am strength!
Sings the undigested food.
Perhaps we all shall know, at length
If global change was for the good.
PROMPT: 29
Write your own two-part poem that focuses on a food or type of meal.
In the poem, describe the food or meal as if it were a specific kind of person.
Give the food/meal at least one line of spoken dialogue.
307 · Aug 2018
John McLimerick
ConnectHook Aug 2018
A twisted old warhawk has died
(as we wish they all would, on that side).
We can try as we may
something noble to say,
But they'll doubt it and know that we lied.
Good riddance to the bitter old RINO with Trump Derangement Syndrome
307 · Oct 2022
Prime Cuts
ConnectHook Oct 2022
Cut it OUT (behavior)

Cut it IN ( the beat)

Cut to the chase (idiom)

Cut the crap (exhortation)

Cut yourself and whine
(bad teenage poetry)
Cutters and whiners
are still under-represented
here at H.P.
This injustice must be addressed
307 · Jul 2021
Juez Side Estory
ConnectHook Jul 2021
Gays jews interpret

Your culture

For you.

Then sell tickets

To their crowd

Who swoon

For your vibrant

And authentic

Oppression.
I laik tu leave een Amerika
ConnectHook Mar 2021
en vano intentaba
ver la mano soberana
que yo sabía
que asía
la mía

(Manantiales en el desierto: 13 marzo)
https://archive.org/details/manantialeseneld00char_0/page/n307/mode/2up?q=Manantiales+En+El+Desierto+Charles+Cowman
306 · Jan 2022
Minimalism
ConnectHook Jan 2022
P F U © K  P F I Z E ® !

Brandon's Life Matters !
LET'S GO BRANDON (MORE)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GrFKef23CoI
304 · Jan 2022
Masquerade
ConnectHook Jan 2022
I was putting on a mask
so I would be protected
while preparing to mask up
with 2 other masks
in order to walk alone on the street
(although I'm proud to say:
DOUBLE JABBED and BOOSTED, baby!)
but had to flee  back inside
upon realizing that I needed to triple mask
because an unvaxxed domestic terrorist
who caused the takeover of White House
had sneezed 3 hours earlier
and we need to stay safe
because we are all promised
a risk free-existence
because god
does not exist
because OMIGOSH VARIANT
is greater than god
or even
"Red Chiner"
and WHO
is the enemy exactly?
Please, people:
stay safe and double-mask before you double-jab
and get boosted every 4 months
because new variants
and wear your underwear on your head
because CDC & WHO & FAUCI
and something else I was told to do
302 · Nov 2019
Whispered Ultimatums
ConnectHook Nov 2019
When patriots express their views
It trumps the deep-state network news,

Who call it this and call it that
Then spin it in their laundromat . . .

Apart from all they say and do,
Every conspiracy is true.

Take it easy. They'll implode slower.
Eric CIAramella is the whistleblower.
Conspiracy analysis: Isaiah 8:12-13
302 · Jul 2021
Cubanos pa' la calle
ConnectHook Jul 2021
Move along.
This has nothing to do
with Marxism...

The good people of Cuba
are simply fed up
with not having access
to Netflix,
legal marijuana
and transgender bathrooms.
https://www.frontpagemag.com/fpm/2021/07/cubans-erupt-protest-against-regime-historically-humberto-fontova/
300 · Jul 2017
Chester (1776)
ConnectHook Jul 2017
Let tyrants shake their iron rod,
And Slav’ry clank her galling chains,
We fear them not, we trust in God,
New England’s God forever reigns.

Howe and Burgoyne and Clinton too,
With Prescot and Cornwallis join’d,
Together plot our Overthrow,
In one Infernal league combin’d.

When God inspir’d us for the fight,
Their ranks were broke, their lines were forc’d,
Their ships were Shatter’d in our sight,
Or swiftly driven from our Coast.

The Foe comes on with haughty Stride;
Our troops advance with martial noise,
Their Vet’rans flee before our Youth,
And Gen’rals yield to beardless Boys.

What grateful Off’ring shall we bring?
What shall we render to the Lord?
Loud Halleluiahs let us Sing,
And praise his name on ev’ry Chord.
299 · Aug 2022
Mêlée
ConnectHook Aug 2022
Fat-*** Ignorance parks her brand new SUV next to Sociopathy, who barely raises a hooded reptilian eyelid as he sells seven Fentanyl tablets to Diversity under a narcotic cloud of monotonous insistent bass beats. Equity is quarreling with Under-representation over Authenticity in fake Wokeness, bellowing and flexing tattooed muscles as the Walmart security staff jiggle their immense wheezing obesity to the scene of the escalating drama. Onlookers are quickly gathering up all the Ukrainian color posters from the parking-posts as they disperse, grabbing as many free samples of THC-infused Delta-8 gummies as they can from the abandoned sales-promotion table on their way out. Uncouth plebeian tremors are undulating over the entire trash-strewn parking lot as filthy seagulls take wing, squawking.

Shut UP **** ain't LIKE THAT! shouts Urban Degeneration at her baby-daddy who spits cannabis-cola all over her threaded beaded extensions. He drops their child, Criminalisha, still strapped into her carrier, onto the pavement and lunges at Urban D.

I'ma hafta ******* UP now, *****, murmurs Poochie tha Kontrolla (aforementioned baby-daddy) and proceeds to tie her hair extensions to the handle of her SUV. He bites her hand until she drops the keys, which he grabs and then he jumps into the driver's seat. The engine roars.

Meanwhile, in the gathered crowd of onlookers, Miss Cultural-appropriation berates an old man for wearing a rice-paddy shade hat on a cloudy day when he only .05 percent Asiatic. The Walmart security staff have mistakenly sat upon and handcuffed one of their own who screams for his meds and therapy canine. As police sirens are heard approaching, America Corpulenta rolls her fat bloodshot eyes and launches her immense rolls of adipose tissue into orbit towards the international space-station.
My interstellar-*** rocket gone KICK you punk-*** lil' space station you racist-*** bigot, she yells  to no one in particular . . .

And America, although no one there realized it, was indeed GREAT.
Itz a PROSE poem, y'all
298 · Nov 2024
Judgement Limerick
ConnectHook Nov 2024
♥✟♥✟♥✟♥✟♥✟♥✟♥

When the Lord resurrects all the dead
And fulfills every word that He said,
Then the Muslims and Jews
Will wake up from their snooze
To appear before Jesus, with dread.
Christ is LORD.
There is no other way to God.
297 · Mar 2021
I and I spired Poem
ConnectHook Mar 2021
☩ ☩ ☩

If you think

That Haile Selassie

is the Living God of scripture

you are WAY too high

and I and I and I and I . . .
Rasta stop babbling and get SAVED
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MwGoMEo5rIw
295 · Nov 2017
Ishmaelite Couplets
ConnectHook Nov 2017
No, your "god" is not at all great.
It's clear to all that you're driven by hate.

Explain how infidels provoked your wrath
by enjoying an autumn bicycle path ?
Such wonderful additions to our melting ***.
Oh I know, Christians are just as bad -- no, they're worse.
They do the same things every week or so, don't they.

Now get back to enjoying the big game, kuffars.
293 · Jun 2022
Comic Limerick
ConnectHook Jun 2022
In the last act of Klownworld: our fate
Is a bozo for new head-of-state.
We deserve it, this curse,
As he builds back what’s worse—
When he could make America great.
Dedicated to all illegitimate puppet rulers who are voted in by corrupted algorithms
292 · Jan 2020
As I Walked Out One Evening
ConnectHook Jan 2020
♛  ♡  ♛  ♡  ♛  ♡  ♛  ♡  ♛  ♡  ♛  ♡  ♛  ♡   

As I walked out one evening,

   Walking down Bristol Street,

The crowds upon the pavement

   Were fields of harvest wheat.

And down by the brimming river

   I heard a lover sing

Under an arch of the railway:

   ‘Love has no ending.

‘I’ll love you, dear, I’ll love you

   Till China and Africa meet,

And the river jumps over the mountain

   And the salmon sing in the street,

‘I’ll love you till the ocean

   Is folded and hung up to dry

And the seven stars go squawking

   Like geese about the sky.

‘The years shall run like rabbits,

   For in my arms I hold

The Flower of the Ages,

   And the first love of the world.’

But all the clocks in the city

   Began to whirr and chime:

‘O let not Time deceive you,

   You cannot conquer Time.

‘In the burrows of the Nightmare

   Where Justice naked is,

Time watches from the shadow

   And coughs when you would kiss.

‘In headaches and in worry

   Vaguely life leaks away,

And Time will have his fancy

   To-morrow or to-day.

‘Into many a green valley

   Drifts the appalling snow;

Time breaks the threaded dances

   And the diver’s brilliant bow.

‘O plunge your hands in water,

   Plunge them in up to the wrist;

Stare, stare in the basin

   And wonder what you’ve missed.

‘The glacier knocks in the cupboard,

   The desert sighs in the bed,

And the crack in the tea-cup opens

   A lane to the land of the dead.

‘Where the beggars raffle the banknotes

   And the Giant is enchanting to Jack,

And the Lily-white Boy is a Roarer,

   And Jill goes down on her back.

‘O look, look in the mirror,

   O look in your distress:

Life remains a blessing

   Although you cannot bless.

‘O stand, stand at the window

   As the tears scald and start;

You shall love your crooked neighbour

   With your crooked heart.’

It was late, late in the evening,

   The lovers they were gone;

The clocks had ceased their chiming,

   And the deep river ran on.




W.H. Auden  (1907-1973)
This poem is one of the reasons
for my love of poetry:

https://connecthook.wordpress.com/2013/07/31/w-h-auden-walks-out/
292 · Jun 2021
Haiku of Haikus
ConnectHook Jun 2021
Your cold rigid corpse
Face in a stupid grimace:
My greatest haiku.
I will CRUSH you.

(poetically)
291 · Apr 2019
Seven Couplets for April
ConnectHook Apr 2019
Repent therefore and be converted,
that your sins may be blotted out,
so that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord,
and that He may send Jesus Christ,
who was preached to you before,
whom heaven must receive
until the times of restoration of all things,
which God has spoken by the mouth of all His holy prophets
since the world began.

                                                        Acts 3:19,20,21

That one thing we deserve, I dare to name:
Death, and then deathless torment in the flame.

But first, let go of bad theology
(all well-meaning misanthropology)

then send yourself a gentle gift, like this:
click: narcissistic selfie mirror-kiss.

The brightest song a body’s ever held?
The one that broke your waters where they swelled.

You summon joy; that ***** stayed out too long.
Ashamed, she hastens, staggering along . . .

I’d be content to have (besides some wings),
just this: the Restoration of All Things

And then to you, if it were mine to give,
I’d give forgiveness. Seek the Lord—and live.
PROMPT #7:
What do you deserve? Name it. All of it.
What are you ready to let go of? Name that too.
Then name the most gentle gift for yourself.
Name the brightest song your body’s ever held.
Summon joy like you would a child; call it home.
It wanders, yes. But it’s still yours.
What would you give yourself, if you could have anything?
What would you give someone else?
290 · Dec 2024
Two'fer Heifer Haiku
ConnectHook Dec 2024
"MOO" sings the diva,
Lowing, and hitting new lows
Out in her pasture.

The Goddess's voice!
Hearken to Her dulcet tones...
Is She a sick cow?
That weird new style
of bovine R&B
290 · Apr 2018
Made to Milk It
ConnectHook Apr 2018
Virtue’s dairy-maids take a bow;
Such maids, the farm can well-endow
To milk that multi-culti cow.
Paste some banner upon your page . . .
You belong to a nicer age
An age where conflict is suppressed
And truth can never be addressed . . .
Malign diversity enforced
Upon the masses—who resist;
Their own prosperity outsourced:
Maintaining aliens in their midst.
Just one more haiku
for the road—I mean, the hike
down April Mountain
289 · Apr 2019
Something Off-Beat
ConnectHook Apr 2019
Enough of angry fixes, ***** streets
incoherent poems and arrhythmic beats,
drug-addled mystics and feminized fools
who compose no further than breaking rules.
Junior Dadaists, after the fact;
dull poetry’s second, third, and fourth act.
Actual poetry exists for the page
and ought to be able to last an age.
Real poems are NOT composed on the tongue,
as are the ravings of the angry young.
Diarrhetic voidings, awash in words
that rain down upon the poetic herds
are not the same as life-giving waters
fit to refresh our sons and daughters.

**** it up with your existential vacuum
from off the floor of that San Fran backroom.
PROMPT 28:
try your hand at a meta-poem of your own
(Meta-poem = a poem about poetry)
289 · Oct 2018
Hallowed Limericks, Even
ConnectHook Oct 2018
The cold night of All Hallows draws near
though the reason is somewhat less clear;
The reigning esthetic
is Gothic-Poetic
and sugar eclipses all fear . . .

The idea that spirits abound,
that The Dead ever hover around,
is a lie straight from Hell
and a fable to sell
souls and sugar, per ounce and per pound.

Halloween: put a mask on the mess.
As a nation, we ought to confess
that our sin’s overflowing;
our evil is showing—
we’re due for a trick, I would guess.

Using candy, they settle the score:
secret weapon in Lucifer‘s war
for this treat dietetic
we’re pre-diabetic,
dressed up as the ghosts that we are.
All Hallows Even 2018
The night before All Saints Day
AKA Reformation Day in some Protestant Nations
289 · Jul 2024
Poem for Bharat
ConnectHook Jul 2024
जय् हिन्द्

Inhale her blowing piles of mounting trash
Where fragrant winds of change bear human ash.
Eternal allure of the mystic East;
A six-armed goddess beckons to the feast:
Prasadam, chutney, consecrated dhal
And other dishes from the land of Baal.
Sandalwood incense, sickly-smoldering dhoop:
Exhaust from a rocket powered by **** . . .
INDIA! Soon, earth's next superpower—
To wonder when is to need a shower.

Blue-skinned idols bow in superstition,
Third eyes blinded by this apparition;
Your sacred rivers: filth and pollution
Flowing freely, a ***** solution
To your failed nation's shameful backward plight—
True brain-drain as your best minds flee the night
To seek prosperity in Western light.

And so, you've no excuse for arrogance
Amidst the ruins of your temple-dance.
Britain's structures have all long since crumbled;
Your many idols beg to be tumbled
Into the depths of your deathly rivers,
To lie in the muck while God delivers
Your people from their false life-givers . . .

Can Jesus bless, as you go on this way
Benighted—while the West inhabits day?
Will Christ facilitate development
And lift you from your pit of excrement,
Your multitudes freed from ignorant ways?
Jai Hind! And here's to hope of better days.

I'd call it Eastern Wisdom—but it's not.
Bow down in piles of human dung, Bharat;
Worship your cow, while washing in her ****.
My poem's close has finally come to this,
As I my guru's bovine backside kiss.
Inspired by Youtube vids about the Ganges and Yamuna rivers, as well as public defecation problems in India.
284 · Sep 2021
Get to the Point
ConnectHook Sep 2021
Obsidian
Lanceolate
Auriculate
Ovaloid
Folsom
Clovis
Chert
Chip
V­V
V
Flaky shape-poem
for your erudite perusal
https://www.projectilepoints.net/Search/ASearch_North%20East.html
284 · Sep 2019
Lengua isleña
ConnectHook Sep 2019
Ni singulal ni plujal
En la islaj linguiticaj.
Nadie puedentendel na
Hablando asi
Boca floja del trópico
Llena de pernil
Se oye dede laamaca
Sumelgida en Malta Goya
Rebalando en la chojera
Fumando en el cajo
Encantao cantando
En el coro
Con el patol
Eperando
La huracán

Peroigan:
Utede debe usal maj
Lo muculoj
orale y maxilofaciale
Paablal...

Onadietevaentendel
In all languages, it is important that one speak clearly enough to be understood.
This is true for the language of Poetry also.
283 · Jun 2022
Teapot Tempest Limericks
ConnectHook Jun 2022
Our election, the ballots reveal,
Was a farce and a fix and a steal.
It's a kangaroo court--
Your attention span's short;
But the liars continue to squeal.

The Capitol gig was no riot...
Over half of the nation don't buy it.
Two summers before,
We had riots galore--
But the media-mongers deny it.

All the video cameras reveal
That the 6th was a minor ordeal
They walked calmly inside.
It's a shame Ashley died,
But it's not like they stormed the Bastille...
"It was worse than 9/11"
ha ha ha hahahahahahahahahah
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