More NaPoWriMo Relief

 I’m enraptured by Mr B’s raps. Performed in a “teahouse” related to that of Chucky D. (whom B admires), Mr. B’s poems incite a similar awe and bewilderment: they hang together by force of an utterly original, almost Edwardian imperialism. They offer new possibles for how and why colonies might cluster together, which means they also blaze a new pathway through history. Magnanimously Angloid, cerebral yet unafraid of abjection, his poems teach us something we haven’t yet understood. I present Mr. B, Gentleman Rhymer:

 

 

Teetotaling Totalitarian

Adolf Hitler had a ball,
yet paused, halfway, to brew some tea
(though German beer is best of all,
and works to set one free).

Herr Hitler blinked. His reign of power
was snatched by Yankee/Allied hands
The weakest brew now had its hour—
for tea will do when tea commands.

https://connecthook.net/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/b3d50-hitlerteapot.jpg

 

Dumb-ass Haiku verse
always counting syllables…
Japan; like I care?

Seamless & Dreamless

 

Jewish activists lay dining,
publicans with plebes aligned;
upon the Roman chaise reclining:
Israelites well-bred (and wined).

Jesus never did wax wroth
while brokering deals for global fail.
No martyr’s noble tablecloth
enfolded Christ, Omega male.

Messiah, Lord of marketing
was favorably credit-rated.
Power points to Christ as king;
One worthy to be worshiped/hated.

Beta beasts and Alpha tyrants
rich investments when installed
tabulate their dull aspirants
chewing cud and unappalled.

Many a sociopathic brute
has steered the bride (Christ’s clueless wife)
away from every attribute
pursuant to eternal life.

You bloody better not forget
when trees get watered at the root
and global profit rises yet
that Jesus wore a business suit.

 

A frog croaks: Basho
Plop. Haiku enters your mind.

Barely a ripple…