Tuesday, December 17, 2019

"Holland Lop Rabbits" by John Kaniecki


Holland Lop Rabbits

by John Kaniecki

Rabbits big, rabbits small
I love them all
But the rabbit I find most fine
Is the Holland Lop Rabbit divine
Fuzzy
Tiny
Hold them in your hand
Then you'll understand
How grand
They are
Catch a ride on a shooting star
Play some chords on a guitar
Holland Lop Rabbits by far
Are
The sweetest thing I know
And I just said so



Enter the poetic world of John Kaniecki.....

Monday, December 9, 2019

On The Day David Died


On The Day David Died

Major Tom got promoted
Soaring, searching, stars
A wanderlust
To which he was devoted
And Ziggy Stardust
Is jamming in a garage
Larger than life
Larger than large
Diamond dogs growl
As heroes howl
So rest your eyes rebel, rebel
I love you too much to tell
A sparkling tear I cried
On the day David died




Enter the poetic world of John Kaniecki.....

Saturday, November 16, 2019

Bad Man With Big Beard, Dead at 48


Bad Man With Big Beard, Dead at 48

In the interest of context and as a service to your readers, I’ve compiled a brief timeline of “ISIS” leader Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi’s numerous brushes with death. This offering cannot be a comprehensive story, given the space allotted, but here are the highlights. All were culled from actual news stories that appeared in the mainstream media.
       We were told that Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi joined the Iraqi insurgency in 2003, the year of the invasion and occupation. We were also told that he was arrested by US Forces in February 2004 and held in Camp Bucca. And we were told that he was released from Camp Bucca in December 2004. However, the former commander of that facility, Kenneth King, said that al-Baghdadi was there until (at least) 2009.
       In May 2010, this al-Baghdadi (the one the US just killed) assumed the reigns of “ISIS” formerly held by the previous al-Baghdadi, Abu Omar al-Baghdadi. According to Brigadier General Kevin Bergner, that Baghdadi was a fictional character whose audio-taped declarations were provided by an Iraqi actor named Abu Adullah al-Naima. (See New York Times headline:  Leader of Al Qaeda group in Iraq was fictional, U.S. military says.) But I digress.
       In December 2012, we were told that the real al-Baghdadi, the one recently killed for the fourth and final time, was arrested by an Iraqi counter terrorism unit. In November of that year, al-Baghdadi was reported dead, killed in an attack on a 10 truck convoy outside Mosul. (This was death number 1.) He remained in that condition, dead, for over two years, but in March 2015 it was reported that he was seriously injured, but nonetheless still living, in an airstrike in northern Iraq.
       Then in October of that same year, he again narrowly escaped death when his convoy was struck in Anbar province. In June 2016, he was killed again (death number 2) in a coalition strike on Raqqa. Later that year, in October, it was reported by the Syrian Observatory on Human Rights, i.e., some guy in Coventry, England, that al-Baghdadi had really, really died (death number 3) in the Deir-al-Zour region. Unfortunately, the remarkably resilient terrorist popped up the following month to dispute this claim.                 
        Update: the guy in Coventry has assured us that al-Baghdadi’s possible successor, Abu Hassan al-Muhajir, has also met his maker. I suggest however that you make a note of that name, as al-Muhajir may become alive and active again in the near future.
        In any case and at long last, the al-Baghadi story has reached its conclusion and final edit. This narrative, no matter how ludicrous, will enter our history books. The story,  delivered unto us by the same media that furnished all the previous reports, is now and henceforth the official one. Anyone who questions it should be shunned by all.

Wednesday, November 6, 2019

Powder Keg


Powder Keg

She’s got looks everyone wants to know
She shakes it a little and see it blow
Always on the run always on the go
All the men come again to the show

She’s a powder keg
Ready to explode
She’s a powder keg
Running down the road
She’s a powder keg
Ready to explode

Neon lights advertise sweet delight
She packs em in night after night after night
High heels cherry red and nothing more
She’s a powder keg and her TNT is pure

She’s a powder keg
Ready to explode
She’s a powder keg
Running down the road
She’s a powder keg
Ready to explode

Softly her childhood dream was born
A Rockette or better yet Broadway
By her step father her virtue was torn
Without voice and no choice a runaway
Port Authority, Forty Second Street very tough
So to survive she comes alive showing her stuff

Lust is easy true Love is rare
Hundreds of men but nobody to care
Up on the stage she’s a rage of fire
She fulfills fantasy but no one’s desire

She’s a powder keg
Ready to explode
She’s a powder keg
Running down the road
She’s a powder keg
Ready to explode



Check out "Without The Music" for some sensational lyrics to work with.


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Saturday, October 26, 2019

Sophia By John Kaniecki


Sophia


By John Kaniecki


A child of incest
This pure angelic dove
Of raging raping conquest
With no tender act of love

But she is a child
Sweet, innocent
But she is a child
With nothing to repent

I see the cross
Spray  painted upon the wall
It's a heavy cross
For one so small

Smile, dream
Let life lazily flow by
In time
For the crime
You shall scream
And cry

A child of incest
Take my trembling hand
The wages of sin
We all understand



Enter the poetic world of John Kaniecki.....


Thursday, October 10, 2019

Astronomy By John Kaniecki


Astronomy

By John Kaniecki

A telescope
Lenses and a lot of hope
Searching the galaxy
Even the universe wide
For the subtle mystery
That I know it does hide
Astronomy
It is the glory of the story
Behold all of life’s secrets
Are before me
In the redshift theory
I see the big bang clearly
Quasars and the dark worm hole
A Super Nova bursting out of control
Before me in the sky
Is heaven on high
I heard a rumor
It is simply God’s eye
There is plenty of grace
In the depths of outer space
All of that awaits me
Astronomy





Enter the poetic world of John Kaniecki.....

Dreaming Through Babylon By John Kaniecki


Dreaming Through Babylon

By John Kaniecki

I awoke from a vision
Of tranquil peace
The water was blue enough to drink
And my mind could think
Gone were the angry screams
Interrupting my dreams
I saw man coming to understand
That we all share our land
Money was an abstract lie
Not the reason why
I looked up to the heavens above
The skies were dirty and dingy
Gone was the love
The bane of the stingy
Was the noxious smell
Of this living hell
But I did not forsake the hope
I learned to cope
That I could not cure all the ill
But I had my own free will
And I would live with joy and grace
And I would live with a smile on my face
And I would do all I could
To make this world a better place
I will be dreaming through Babylon
Until it is gone





Enter the poetic world of John Kaniecki.....


Monday, September 23, 2019

HER THIGHS LIKE OAK by John Tustin

HER THIGHS LIKE OAK

 By John Tustin

Her thighs like oak
Her steps so light
Her eyes like smoke
On a moonless night

An angel fallen
A bird on the rise
A siren calling
Her words all lies

Her thighs like oak
Her steps so light
Her eyes like smoke
On a loveless night

An angel rising
A bird descending
A night beginning
The daylight ending

Her thighs like oak
Her steps so light
Her eyes like smoke
On a godless night

An angel exposed
With choices few
In maudlin repose
Her words all true


John Tustin started writing poetry again eleven years ago after a hiatus just as long and since then has been published in many disparate locations. fritzware.com/johntustinpoetry contains links to his published poetry online.

Thursday, September 19, 2019

Seasons of the Tamaracks by Bruce H. Markuson and Katie Briggs


Seasons of the Tamaracks

 By Bruce H. Markuson and Katie Briggs

From out of the bog and lifting of fog.
When blackbirds begin to sing.
Branches grow new, over waters so blue.
Tamaracks hail the coming spring.

Then throughout summer days, they bask in the rays.
And reach for the love of the sun.

But when needles are gold, the year’s become old.
They know that the autumn has come.

Then darker is the day, when skies become gray.
And the north winds begin to blow.
Winter’s story is told, and all becomes cold.
Then they’ll slumber, beneath the snow.




Bio:

Bruce Markuson lives with his wife and two children in Milwaukee WI. He has a novel and over a hundred short stories published. Bruce is also working on a number of series. He enjoys writing and often finds himself with writer’s obsession. He says the best way to write is to have an ending then write to that ending.

Check out his blog at http://brucemarkuson.blogspot.com/