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Homunculus  May 2015
Industry
Homunculus May 2015
Behold!

The great
Leviathan, with
teeth of steel, with
feet of clay.

Subjected to this
giant's whim,
the sweet sojourn  
of life decays,

Infected now, we
lie and skim; while
markets mire
mother's way,

rejected reason,
presses on, to
try again
another day.
CK Baker Mar 2019
~ Ode to Spring ~

Cherry blossoms filled with bloom
rhododendron’s sweet perfume
warming winds feign summer’s breeze
songbirds singing from the trees

Open windows, déjà vu
sunsets filled with graceful hues
families gather on their strolls
Mother Nature for the soul

Baseball season at the park
evenings lifted from the dark
daylight savings' finally here
patios for wine and beer

Cleaning house and planting seeds
rebirth fills the days and deeds
picnic baskets, hummingbirds
poets find their way in words

Kaleidoscope of bedding plants
shorts in favour over pants
farmers markets, garage sales
power-wash the decks and rails

Hiking, tennis, gardening
inhale the freshness of the spring!
painters, sculptors shape their art
gather here with grateful hearts
over the past weeks
a gentle autumn sun
has painted colored leaves
upon the ground
and thinned
the bright abundance
of the wooded ranges

most of the harvest
is securely stored by now
or sold at morning markets
by weathered men and women
in country garbs

vintners are busy with their lots
fermenting grapes
and entertaining those
who see their visit
as pleasant pastime and escape
from daily urban chores

hunters and lumbermen
are waking up
to shoot and mark

schools by this time
have settled into the new year
teachers are happy still to share
the knowledge of our world
with students still inclined
to listen

businessmen
remembering their vacations
on the Bahamas or in Saint Tropez
step sprightly into offices
womanned by secretaries dreaming secretly
of beautiful Mallorca summers
and of those never-ending nights
on the Algarve

I guess it is a human thing
to find a new beginning
and do best
when nature’s breath goes easy
to collect the strength
for yet another fruitful year

or were it better
that we also took a rest?

           * *
tabitha Jul 2018
always take your shoes off before you cross a threshold
         if you do this, the monsters under your bed will be
            no more.
              you've been carrying your dirt around with you
                leave it at the door
                  or else all the tiny microbes that live in the gutters
                    and trash-smudged curbs will fall off
                       like snowflakes down to the floor

wear your face mask
wash your neck
don't eat too much sugar

hold yourself center                        
        losing your balance has dramatic repercussions
             getting around depends on it

be grateful for the sun and getting to be outside
       buildings do not satiate the wild within
         when the sun kisses your face, feel loved

don't drink the tap
try to keep your bones intact
keep your eyes open

find the fancy expat-owned markets
      dig through their trash late at night
        they are wasteful
          their trash could be your treasure

speak and laugh as loudly as you want
      set the bar high, so that growing up doesn't make you silent
        the world should know that you are here
          you're so beautiful

wash your dishes
sweep your floors
always lock the door             

don't forget that there is more splendor outside these cityscapes
      don't forget that there is suffering all around this place

translate earnestly and graciously for your elders
       for some ****** reason my native tongue is the lingua franca
         and your parents hired me to help you bridge the gap
           i am here because you are the future
             and not because of anything you did
               so be polite about it
                 and don't forget where you started
Perched upon a corporate throne,

We march into the great unknown

As wasted words of gossip drone

And steel replaces brick and stone.
Soon you find yourself alone

In crowded streets with a global phone,

Doing a random strangers bidding.



A means to an end they say,

As poor men die while rich men play,

When honest work brings modest pay,

And doesn't last 'em through the day

Though profiteers in moral grey 

Flood the airwaves to in turn say,

"Our wealth simply paves  the way,

Tomorrow is your salvation day,

You want peace? Then war is only fitting."



Look and you will see

Money buys democracy,

The Citizens United, see?

If we knew the truth, would we agree?

Those answers are not  going to be

Yes or no but more likely

Maybe, perhaps, or possibly,

Because in reality,

Right and wrong are just kidding.



To those who fret the plagues we face,
Yet believe we can change this place,
Who stifle doubts about the Human Race,
And yearn to be together in this chase,
With subdued pride and envy, in every case,

Seeking common goals to found the base,

May we lay the evil plots to waste,

For evils clients who once stood are now sitting.



The time is now, make a stand
,
Pull our heads out of the sand

Call their bluff with a hidden hand

Of virtue they don’t quite understand,
Defy procedure’s they have planned
,
Unite across the lines that brand,

Refuse all prejudice, none may be accepted.



Some know for they already looked

And the flow of money keeps them booked,

Takes but once to have them hooked,

Setting the table with food uncooked

For others whose foundations shook

Are pitted against the small time crook

Hoping only that we be protected

.

Hark the sounds of rebellious cries

For those that call, they realize

All that lives sure enough dies
But when displeased we close our eyes

To the masters of disguise

Who think their profit justifies

The invisible hand growing in size

While their strings attached go uncorrected



They kept us quiet all the while

Waiting with numbers dialed

To put the innocent to trial

Lining up in single file

To be cast into the same old pile

None willing to lay down their tile,

Casting shadows upon their guile,

The double agent mercantile,

Lobbying candidates to endorse.



All I ask, is to what do we base belief?

Dying children get no relief

Oil poisons the coral reef

Prophecy of the fallen chief

Given a thought but a bit too brief
Together a tree, alone but a leaf
Although it is all who feel the grief

Of our actions consequential course



Corrupted elites discuss our goals

So we continue to dig our holes

To depths that darken souls

Rigging markets to decide our roles

Assumptions made so that greed controls

They draw their graphs till the pencil dulls

Then add a factor, see how that goes

Without even the slightest feeling of remorse



Growth is sacred, but is it moral?

Strengthen reason yet we quarrel

Over falsities of ***** oral

Arrangements like that of floral

Remedies but not doctoral

Blood of fallen lives pastoral

Remind that we’re all mortal

But all thereafter bear the force.



So please tell me at what cost?

In a moments past our objectives lost

Compassion was our hand now tossed

Lines we’ve drawn, lines we’ve crossed

How much dirt can be washed

From our conscience we exhaust

Before shattering glass of fate we sloshed?

Working from the scattered pieces back to the source



It is us who blindly lead the strut

We are the source and nothing but

Whose center point is one giant rut

Where false desires cracked and cut

And the selfish feed an endless gut,

When our culture begins to split and jut,

We might finally ask... It was all for what?
Inspired by the great Bob Dylan. I refer you to the song “It’s Alright Ma’”
Ruheen  Sep 2019
Spiral
Ruheen Sep 2019
Aren't we all
Out of control
Spiraling up the towers
And tumbling down the markets

What we need, we can't get
What we don't, we get
What we want, we don't
But what we want, we get

We fear, we fight
Our worries rise
We're left with so much
But nothing at all

We get up and find
Claws in our way
As if we weren't already
Bruised enough

Aren't we all
Out of control
We fear for us
And no one else

So, when we spiral, we spiral as one.
Well, we're spiraling. 'We' isn't us 'we'. It's them 'we'. Well, sometimes it's us 'we', but anyway. Does that make sense?
gracie Jan 2019
i.
the tall, brown-eyed
scholar with tousled hair and 
endless supply of sarcastic comments; 
stolen sweaters and car rides and
cartoons. sipping hot cocoa
out of Star Wars mugs, study dates, 
playing hide and seek 
in Walmart, hugs that 
almost 
made me feel whole

first heartbreak
******* in his passenger seat because 
he "needed it”;
a lonely winter learning 
he did not love me and 
a season spent intertwined 
with a boy who could not 
fill the void in my chest.

ii.
golden hair, ocean eyes,
sunkissed skin and downtown flea markets.
threading my fingers between his
sharing our poems over skype
and 
iced coffee and patched denim and 
fresh yellow flowers stashed in my locker.
hugging in the hallway,
silly love notes and soft smiles and 
laughing so hard my ribs hurt.
a sensation of warmth that could rival 
pure sunshine

unopened texts
a subtle disconnection
i held his heart in my palm and
let it slip
harsh
unimportant
i still carry the guilt in my fingertips

iii.
overalls. shoulder-length hair, i 
fell in love with the way he said my name
strange, unrecognizable on his lips, ringing
each syllable like a pink-petal
prayer.
a thrift store parking lot, draped 
across his lap, one hand in my hair, 
the other around my heart;
stolen kisses at stoplights. shivering and 
holding each other so closely
i thought 
we might never unravel

disintegrating. distance withering away 
my heartstrings; familiar pain and
longing to be held
bitter tears and night air
stroking my hair
in place of the way
his hands made me
Ache.
an old poem. the loneliness comes and goes;
poem format inspired by haley
Brian  Feb 2019
Easy as 1,1,2,3
Brian Feb 2019
Look

Feel

Sequence

Ratios

Forming the spiral

Beauty found well within nature

Conscious and unconscious patterns forming everywhere

Support and resistance levels formed around fear and greed of people in markets
for my trading friends....
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