Celebration Poems: 273 / 500

The Man On The Moon

Rating: 4.8

When the sun goes down
In the capital town
Some strange creatures lurk among shadows
One sits and he waits
And spots the mistakes
As he fights his most valiant battle
He searches and finds
Sharp minds with sharp knives
To aid him in doing his mission
Together they form
A most villainous swarm
They're leading the front most position
In the ongoing plight
Of the long lasting fight
That promises never to cease
Where greed is the theme
And power a scheme
And a war makes more money than peace
It is with most reluctance
That the mass receive substance
From the pockets of those with great fortune
Mothers in vain
Cry at their children's pain
As they can't afford adequate portions
With the anger and rage
Of an animal caged
The villainous horde mounts attacks
On the forces of power
Which cause them to cower
In poverty living in shacks
So the villainous horde
Armed with shield and with sword
Determined to dethrone their rival
Step up one by one
They're continually gunned
As they desperately fight for survival
When the timing is right
A boomstick takes flight
And explodes in approach of the leader
Of the oppressing force
And with mounting remorse
The dead general sends for a pleader
And that villainous creature
The shadow beseecher
He no longer lives darkly alone
He sits on the moon
Playing gentle bassoon
And he watches his kingdom be grown

Another strange creature
A moocher and leacher
In a second capital town
Knows nothing of effort
Nor any displeasure
And soon will be given the crown
That his father had gained
In a card playing game
In a wager of fortunate sons
The wager was land
Dad had the best hand
Three kingdoms were made into one
When the crown was due passed
The kingdom collapsed
No leecher was fit to be king
The power would rest
With the nobles who best
Built an army of bow and of string
At the bloody day's end
Three nobles would send
Their armies and selves to their graves
The moocher and leecher
The power beseecher
Had began to feel awfully brave
He strummed up a force
Of most villainous sorts
In accordance with the man on the moon
When the fighting was done
Leecher drank and had fun
A victory celebration to soon
For a new army was found
In a low lying cloud
Their arrows rained down from above
When next shield and sword clashed
Arrows came and they passed
At the will of a white widowed dove
And the man on the moon
Played a somber bassoon
As he learned of their obvious fate
For the cloud shooting gang
Had impeccable aim
While destroying the armies of hate
For the villainous horde
And all those in accord
Had grown quite corrupt and unjust
When asked of the dove
Does he grant death with love
He knowingly answers I must
When asked of the moon man
Why he plays bassoon then
His answer with much contemplation
Because music is peace
An expression release
And without peace then what is creation

Sunday, February 14, 2016
Celebration Poems: 273 / 500
Topic(s) of this poem: corruption,poverty,power,war
Kelly Kurt 14 February 2016

Between the pleasant rhyme scheme, the imagery and the subject matter, this was not only an interesting poem but enjoyable to read. I'm glad Souren is a fan. He is a bright and insightful young man.

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Mike Smith 15 February 2016

Thanks Kelly. And I couldn't agree with you more in regard to Souren

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M Asim Nehal 15 November 2018

Fantastic poem Mike, This poem takes the reader through different stages of emotional quotients, An articulate writing.10++++ A War makes more money than peace...(Awesome)

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Juan Olivarez 16 March 2016

wonderful sarcastic piece and the rhymes are perfect. i love it.

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Akhtar Jawad 14 March 2016

It's a beautiful poem, wonderful and amazing.

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Mike Smith 15 March 2016

Thank you Akhtar. Much appreciated

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Tapan M. Saren 12 March 2016

Beautiful Mike.. I'm gonna make it MyPoem

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Mike Smith 15 March 2016

Thank you Tapan

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Daniel Brick 09 March 2016

We both now and groove to tunes by Kelly and Souren. It's amazing ow like-minded poets find each other at PH. It's not magic but it has te qualities of inevitabiity, astonishing ease, quicker than rational thought we associate with magic. Your poem makes a terrific impact and I found the density competely in sync wit your theme. A dispassionate narrator would not be believed; an orderly presentation would be counterproductive. We are rational beings living in an irrational world. You subtract te word rational and portray us as utterly clueless about our destiny and nature. You are a modern day PROPHET who is close to despair but wil not give up his mission of truth-telling. Your poem has te uncompromising, intense, courageous commitment of THE TWELVE by Alexandr Blok, about the insanity and violence of Bolshevik Revolution. They murdered him for writing /telling the truth! !

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Mike Smith 10 March 2016

Thank you Daniel. I've always enjoyed your in depth commentaries. They add dimension to poems and increase their value. Flattered to receive one myself

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