Best Amicus Poems
A Friend as Far as to the Alters
Where did they go?
Running along the sweeping streams of life?
Standing behind the endless eclipse of darkness?
Hiding under the melancholy leaves of fall?
Bouncing among the clumsy clouds of obscurity?
Swimming around the savage sharks of strife?
Sleeping with the lonely lovers of hopelessness?
Where did they go?
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Contest Entry: Your Own Favorite Poem Contest
Sponsor: Carol Eastman
Placement: 1st Place
Only one of the haiku poems below is serious. The others are frivolous. Can you spot the serious poem?
Longitudinal
lines run lengthwise, criss-crossing
lines of latitude.
A "friend of the court,"
or "amicus curiae,"
is no friend of mine!
For perfect haiku,
you must check your syllable
count religiously.
You can run, but you
cannot hide, from the sweeping
hand of Father Time.
The four in boring
salesman suit pants were foreign-
born ring salesladies.
I tuned my Toro,
programmed my Panasonic—
then mowed through Matlock.
Latin syllable count by:
http://marello.org/tools/syllabifier/
A patriarch, legend, family man,
A moral compass,
An arc of proprietary leadership
With octopus creeping advancements
Inducing pomiferous effects
Africa’s epitome of
Struggle against racial oppression
The Great Madabe :
An iconic glistering personality
Held the jugular of
Erstwhile oppressors spell-bound.
According to him :
‘Exhausted all peaceful means’
Spear-headed weapons of warfare
To tackle this gamut
Rivonia Trials :
Black face in White Court,
White Court in Black Country,
Black Country White Ruled,
A sizzling paradox.
An illustrious Amicus Curiae
Who ought to ensure
Right persons do not
Travail in Court
Travailed but prevailed.
In Prison :
Remained a dignifying character,
Bubbling with unending
Vigour and vitality
Though sequestered within
The prison’s iron-gates
The ideals he stood for
Could not be suppressed
With draconian laws,
Separatist illusions cum policies.
Prisoner of conscience
A.K.A. 46664 Robben Island
His heart for his people
Obviously exhibited by
Willing sacrifice of
His freedom for countless numbers.
A multifarious personality :
A former herdsboy,
Won the Almighty God’s Heart
In tendering the herd
He saw another King David
Mindful of His creation
Nkosi Dalibonga,
Elder Statesman,
World Ambassador,
Amicus Curiae,
Exemplary Leader,
Reconciler of his nation,
Negotiator of peaceful end to Segregation.
Papa Madabe,
Indeed had a heart
For the people
No wonder God
Emplaced him as
The Primus Black African
To preside over his Country.
The Last Journey :
Home going,
From Pretoria,
The Military C-130 Hercules Jet
Hurtled through the morning skies
Landed safely at Mthatha Airport,
Eastern Cape Province
Where this son of a Chief
Spent the happiest years
Of his childhood.
Last Parade :
Colour Party of White and Black faces
Previously unheard of
A resounding result of the Struggle,
Carry Matata Madabe’s remains
To the dark coloured hearse
Amidst full
Presidential Honours…
Adieu Great Madabe
You were a Great light
Now in the far beyond,
Good night for your passage
Has caused an irreparable
Generational chasm for
Years to come.
glancing at thee beautiful doll female human,
an aggregate of positivity arose. That four
tut hood toward slender youthful looking chica
figuratively took my breath away. She galore
re: us lee ranked topnotch on my register
of aesthetic delight. Thus, while this jackfrosted hoar
frosted flake ambled up and down aisles,
an aim sought to relay pleasant physiology while Igor
Stravinsky – Flight of the Bumblebee buzz
within every square inch of my anatomy bon jour
quivered with cockiness, covetousness,
and craveness without resorting to Dumble Da lore
for guidance, hence indecorous, impetuous,
or idolatrousness loosed rampant as more
consideration asper jimmying bold, daring do
hounded (Lo and Behold) luck did not ig nor.
A nod in answer to prayer ready set terrific
wonderful chance arose pondering how to mine ore
and coax a major outcome addressing this ambition,
which unceasingly pecked, piqued, dirt poor
piss lee pricked thy noggin about sudden revelation
presence pretty lady Upon quor
tar number of minutes passed,
whereat her increasing proximity, an unflagging score
begging akin to patriotic duty and appeasement
sans uttering a compliment recognized roar
ring optimal (once in a solar eclipse) chance
to corral, field, and invoke latent obligation that tore
per regaling unknown xwoman a dollop gratutity.
Whether embarassment ensued possibly war
temporarily shunted aside, cuz if no propensity
to risk testing cab age comfort zones of yore
if awesome stroke ignored, a disappointment
toward self would manifest irking conscience.
For the rest of eternity. So without missing
a beat (and reckoning with nary a spare off fence
guess not to turnip ma nose), a apple lick able amicus
brief pickle this complimentary gents
dare devilishly egged, finessed, gambit regarding
how gorgeous (a veritable stranger) kents
humed and appealed to me, whence squashing
regret at a costly emotional ex pence.
Fugax praeter tardisanum,
Cum omnia memento temporis,
Pecunia et potestas,
Famae et gloria,
Illea isti istae ista vero illud magnus?
Que de illea minorus reis,
Un candlae in illea tenebrae,
Un beate catalus ad tuus pedos,
Un bracchium undeque tuus umerous,
Un subrisus in tuus flos amicus faceies?
Ubi voluntas nos be sine ea?
Que de a lodiscis in illea frigoris?
Que de id?
Apud illes lapis.
(Fleeting but slow,
With everything in the moment,
Money and power,
Fame and glory,
Are they really that important?
What about the little things,
A candle in the dark,
A happy puppy at your feet,
An arm around your shoulders,
A smile on your best friends face?
Where would we be without those?
What about a blanket in the cold?
What about it?
Apud illes lapis.)
If nobody knew me.
I could varnish to the thin air.
Dine withe the unfair.
displine the cute ,uphold the ugly
And
Walk in you like oxygen
I could smile to those who care.
And be helpful like pathogen.
If..
If no one knew me.
I could breeze to the deepest ocean.
And
Bath in your soul.
Could denounce demons clean.
Could be a phenomenal idol.
If.
If no one knew me.
Could change like day to day.
An amicus of dare
And
Tell fiction.
That defeats friction
If nobody knew me.
I could dance naked.
In a million micro second
Could be ordained marry ,and de-marry..
Could not hurry
For time could be me.
If no one knew me
I could use my unconscious mind.
To make the rude kind.
Magnify the blind
Preach from behind.
If...
If no one knew me.
I could be me.
Like a spirit.
I could be you.
A Gentleman made his reservation in Heaven
Who had donated millions to Charity
Stood up to Bigotry and Oppression
Fought for Justice unrelentingly
As fine a man as ever you'd meet
No smidgen of impropriety --
Though behind closed doors
He'd routinely mistreat
The members of his family
The angelic tribunal examined his deeds
And found them shockingly lacking
Thanks to an amicus brief that God chose to read
~ Wherein his wife and children sent him packing
Is your best friend a dog,
a thesaurus is mine
As yours wags its tail
—mine forever sets me free
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)