Poetic-Verses
DRUMBEATS OF WAR!
"Leodogrand, the King of Carmelliard
Had one fair daughter and no other child
...
Beasts mocked their foster mothers on forefoot
For all was worse and worse till Arthur came."
(Alfred Lord Tennyson, IDYLLS OF THE KING)
I am not talking about a harlot's worst city "bom"; I am talking about her foot. Because Africans beat the hell into the child and beat the hell out of the child. By the standards of a social harlot, that should mean MANIFESTATION - the name of your firstborn son, and LITTLE LAMP, his cousin in this forest of immorality and littered third day old AGRARIAN or SOCIAL MAN or ANTEDELLUVIAN MAN OR MIND, or THE FIRST MAN, in converse to the
EARLY MAN or THE STONE AGE MAN, who was just a GRAPES GATHERER, because your bones can really play so well on a drum. Listen again about the multatics; it does not pay talking about in absolute relaxed foolishness, every often the body parts of women, humanity's problem, because one man just discovered he married a ghost and that hellfire is not far, which is a serious abominable problem of Ghost Advertisement in Bra City, whoever brought them in here, whether with skirts or worlgy trousers, BODY MASK or nakedness. Absolutely, "Throbably", you should be blamed, because "the lame shall not enter into the house of the LORD" again. Amen. Netelem. Letalem. Which should be the gastogramic confusion of a GRAMMER AGE or HAMMER AGE. And obviously, this is not a WORLD WHO'S WHO or ANGELS' BOOK OF RECORD, because, honestly, we should stand up and fry "Akara" or "ghost moi-moi" as early or as soon as it it 6am, because the ghosts will buy in "City Ghost A."
Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
DRUMBEATS OF WAR!
DRUMBEATS OF WAR!
