Clarion Call On My Wailing Wall Poem by John Sensele

Narrow escapes- thrice threatening
Came and went
Despite succor abstaining
My soul under no circumstances meant

Harm to my person
Stolid as I sometimes dreamt to claim
Not heeding, not learning warnings a salutary lesson
That on me poured blame

Sucked from narrow escapes
Felt deep within my clones, bones, tones and zones
As fortune on my side with sour grapes
From goring horns and thorns

Gunning and turning in earnestness
Towards the weaker flank
Carelessness on my part gifted wanton wistfulness
Grown from dating devices I couldn't spank

As on my knees I slumped
Begging feet of defeat to spare me
When false charges I slapped
On the sooth-sayer I could hardly see or foresee

In the vicinity of the battlefield
Where blood gushed
From a weal shield
That blows from all directions hushed

Weak on melting knees I slumped
The writing on the wailing wall
Dawned near and clear as bludgeon blows together clamped and lumped
I was undone! Slow and certain sounded the clarion call

Fate and its mates
Discomfiture and discomfort couldn't obviate
From doom and gloom gates
Fortune could no longer deviate

From gurgling and giggling gates of Hell
Open so wide
To spell and tell
The demise my pride

Touted on the snout of the clout pout and spout
Tinted by the ubris crease whose fleece
Made up of diseased doubt
That no retreat could delete from a missed kiss

Swollen and stolen
In a last step ditch effort
All of a sudden- sullen
As crude collapse conquered my fort.