Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
A mere peon in the universe.
I collect the power for words.
I am way more than diverse,
more than feathers of birds.
Terry O'Leary Sep 2015
1
Though still within our infancy,
we strive to thrive, but woefully
we flash and flaunt our 'primacy',
display our trophies pridefully.

Our terra firma ecstasy
destroys survival's harmony,
lays waste to life on land and sea.
Mankind, thy name is vanity!

By doubting Nature's regnancy,
defying laws with levity,
we strain our spheroid's symmetry
(perhaps a fatal fallacy?)

for, swallowed in the 'world of we',
we feed on vain insanity
with thoughts beyond eternity -
so strange when looked at mortally.

No use to seek a remedy
ensconced in ancient prophecy
for if not handled skillfully,
as clay we'll pay the penalty.

                              2
The Moguls rule with cruel decree,
control the crowds like puppetry,
pursuing greed addictively
with no accountability.

The wind, it reeks of Royalty
(awash in waves of perfidy)
while blowing ’cross the peasantry
(eclipsed in clouds of treachery).

The Queen, well steeped in snobbery,
sits, preening proud Her pedigree,
on throne of sculpted ebony
while sipping Sect immodestly;

to sate Her Regal Majesty,
a caviar clad canapé
is served with golden cutlery
by maidens bent submissively.

The King is bailed from bankruptcy
by Knaves who hoodwink artfully
the down-and-outer evictee
who wallows in their lenity.

Forsooth, the Money Monarchy
exalts the dollar dynasty
engaged in highway robbery
by Peacocks plumed in finery.

Yes, Jesters and the Fools agree
to truckle to duplicity
and laugh about it witlessly.
Long live the peon's penury!

                          3
To champion an oddity
(like two times twelve is fifty three)  
one reaches to theology
through paths of circularity.

In bygone trials of travesty
the doubters, draped in blasphemy,
endured the pain and agony
inflicted by the papacy.

Inspired by the Trinity
fanatics bent cosmology
in geocentric fantasy
while Bruno burned for heresy;

and aged women, randomly
accused of wicked witchery
by justice framed in infamy,
were racked and shown no clemency

That epoch of credulity
(when savants fostered sorcery
and practiced ancient alchemy)
arose in dark age quackery

as clerics dripping piety
(while raging, raving rabidly)
pervaded thralled society
with callous inhumanity;

'repent', they bellowed, 'verily,
forsake the world's iniquity,
live lives of want and chastity,
and give your gelt to God through me'.

                    4
The Masters make a mockery
of freedom and democracy
by holding down the uppity,
released from shackled slavery,

now fettered in a factory
else strewn across the Bowery,
still chained in bonds of bigotry,
immersed in seas of poverty.

And colliers, tapping balefully
in sunken-mine solemnity,
yet thrum a mournful monody
some call the digger's elegy.

To children, pale and raggedy
(behind a day of drudgery),
the boss man, oh so gallantly,
bestows a penny, niggardly;

though some are fed (belatedly),
their eyes recede in apathy
while bellies bulge, inflatedly,
with mothers watching, wretchedly.

When met with health adversity
or broken bone infirmity,
the pauper dangles helplessly
with no insurance policy;

and those engulfed in lunacy
are ailing blobs left floating free
in ******-dream obscurity -
a mired madhouse odyssey.

Ignoring mankind's unity,
the rich and poor dichotomy
breeds dismal doomed finality,
eventual nihility.

                        5
Renewing days of chivalry,
wild warriors fighting valiantly
bring freedom neath the gallows tree
while blending blood and burgundy

to toast the slaughtered enemy,
and so convince the colony
to cede with smile on bended knee
and yield her diamonds, silk and tea.

At first they call the cavalry
and then again the infantry,
so proudly primped in panoply,
with arms from finest armory

(embraced in hands so tenderly
bestow benign atrocity) -
and soon atomic weaponry
will extirpate posterity.

                          6
Misusing high technology
(to feed the face of gluttony)
depletes our Rock of energy,
now slowly dying thermally.

Our gadgets breathing CFC
fuel ozone holes' immensity
while cloud bursts, raining acidly,
wilt woods in their entirety,

and rivers, tainted chemically,
polluted biologically,
refill our cups methodically
and drown our souls organically.

Adjusting genes mechanically
may well blot out the bumble bee
annulling fruits' fecundity,
but brings big bucks reliably.

We wager perpetuity
to revel momentarily
in shadow-like obscurity
ignoring the futility,

but if we bet unknowingly
on fickle fate's contingency
and thereby act haphazardly
we're doomed to lose the lottery.

                 7
The modern day bureaucracy
abuses trust egregiously ,
embeds itself in obloquy
and offers no apology.

It paints the past in reverie
to camouflage the tendency
to strip away our privacy
which paves the path to tyranny.

With earlobes lurking furtively
that listen surreptitiously,
and eyeballs peering piercingly
we've lost cerebral sovereignty,

and those who dare to disagree
must hide away in secrecy
else crowd a black facility
(with water board anxiety).

                  8
Yes, sans responsibility,
our marble in this galaxy
will crumble in catastrophe
ere ever reaching puberty…
Ksjpari Oct 2017
The most dedicated, obedient, one who rings bell,
One mighty who formulates sentient of time shell
By ringing school bell, making us aware, alert and knell.
Vijay, our peon, a smart, vigilant but never did yell
At teachers or students who bugged in room or cartel.
Fair looking Vijay is a joyous lad who got never expel;
Nor did he remain quiet in vespers nine to spread his spell.
Caring, gentle, cherishing, poor but self-efficient in nutshell
Can be told about him in this Monorhyme – describing well?
Monorhyme
zen Sep 2018
Gliding in air
was an eerie delightful hue
hanging high above violet and blue,
for eons no one had knew,
the peon pest probing around
the howling zoo,
rhyming and roaming
hiding and hoping
flighty the ronin
ran,
groping every moment he could come to
as a token to his gallantry
the guidance to his apathy
decided to devise his only strife
to live happily
betterdays Mar 2014
Ethel echidna
had a date wid Pike,
a fiiine!
young hedgehog
who be doin' the backpack

she got n' egg
ya see bout a rave
up in the mountains
in a black cathederic cave
doof doof in the dandenongs

d' message said
up dee track
where the ding dongs
don't dare follow
round d' hollow n'
up the back

Ethel she preened
and she polished
the dreds down her back,
clickety, click, clack.
painted her claws
a fetching shade
of orange neon
all watched on by
Pike the backpack peon

then to the doof
dey departed
at a fast shuffel
leaving behin
barely a ruffle
in the burrowed air
they followed
d'directions to
d' right section
dis dey knew
by d' sound of
d' massive party
goin down

on payin d' dosh n'
getten d' mark
off dey went
inta the fray
***** boy mumbled
"woyhoy gotcha!"
when he saw who
was providin
the goodmuse vibing
up ona stage
Jagger the emu
was a struttin'
with Ringo the dingo
on drums an bongos
while Hendrix
the numbat riffed d' strat
an  Entwhistle
d'frogmouthed owl
grooved on his gibson
wid ***** left stage staring

Ethel got bizzy
check'n out the dancefloor
lookin for bling or moves wid a sting
perhaps a little ******* headbangin

well down
at the southdoor
trouble was brewin'
foul words
was spewin between
d magpie n seagull crews
till the bouncers,
kanga & roo
hustled dem
all outside for a brew

up near the stacks
Pheobe the lizard
was flashin
a matchin
frill n grill ensemble
while Stan, her man
was fillin his bill
at the buffet table
as only a pelican can
at the grub bar
sat the kookaburra trio
Max,Tom, Deccy
havin a speccy
at tha lady
cockatoos n' galahs,
givina chuckle
at the bruhaha
they had created
comin flyin from
near n' far to this
surberb n spectacular
festival of fauna
"tho hot as a sauna
best dis year sofah"

jus inside
d' recovery corner sat
Horn a blue tongue lizard
feelin a bit pukey n' flat
den dere was
Kayla n' Jac
a pair o koalas
who now be zonin
from d eucalyptus
dey been a chewen
alldayz

outaback time it's awastin
with dis watchin n waitin

Ethel hit the floor
wherever
she booggied,
grooved or h-banged
she got a big crowd,
given her ground
to shake
her dreds around
cause dat girl
is dangerous
wid her dredlocks man,
to which Zach
the one eyed wombat
can well attest

Now not bein a dancer
***** got lonely
so looked upa chat
with the rest
of d' backpackin crowd
he swapped recipes
for green brownies wit
Boomer the orangatang,
harvest spots wit
Goth the friutbat,
Hamish de otter,
quiet de globetrotter,
did giv ***** some tips
about surfin rips
furder down de coast.

so dey shimmyed
an dey shammyed,
dey talked
an dey squawked
till d' old sun
came out to play
den dey wandered
and dey wended
back down
d' track to d' town
to sleep d' day away.

as to our Ethel
and *****,
well
dey crawled
gingerly
inta their bed,
they cuddled
an dey clicked,
dey kissed
an dey snicked
and dey
blew dey
selfs away
Ryan P Kinney  Apr 2015
Who Am I?
Ryan P Kinney Apr 2015
Who Am I?

I am a boy and a man.
I am a son, a brother, a cousin, a nephew, and a grand child.
I was a boyfriend, a fiancé, a husband, and an in-law.
I am a bachelor.
I am surrounded and abandoned.
I am a family man and a loner.

I am a homemaker and a handyman.
I wear the apron and the tool belt.
I am a neat freak and a slob.
I am an amateur contractor and a contracted amateur.
I am a dumpster diver, a recycler, and a decadent waste.
I am a glutton, a scavenger, and a scrapper.

I am a friend and an enemy.
I am fun and an annoyance.
I am a lover and a hater.
I am creepy, cruel, and harsh.
I am tender, loving, and inviting.
I have a foul mouth and tender lips,
Drenched in jagged, soft-serve words.

I am a painter, sculptor, draftsman, sketcher, character designer, photographer, graphic designer, fashion designer, kitbasher, customizer, and crafter.
I am a reader, a writer, and a poet.
I am the Jail Baby, Ryan & Lisa, The Phoenix, The AntiFather, and The HEYMAN!
I compose symphonies of visual and intangible imagery.
I bring form to thought.
I destroy,
I create.
I am an artist.

I am a geek, nerd, freak, and otaku.
I have been punk, goth, prep, white trash, and metrosexual.
I wear glasses,
But only as a sick joke.
I am beautiful and ugly,
Clean and *****.
I am unique.
I am predictable.
I have changed, but am still the same.

I am a techie,
An electronic ******.
I am cutting edge and old school.
Digitally signed and sealed.
I am analog and obsolete.

I am an adrenaline addict.
I can chill, maybe slow,
But never relax.

I am blue collar, tradesman, and service industry.
I am peon and ****** on.
Oh, but I have done the ******* too!
I have been hired and fired,
Bought and sold.
I have worn the uniform,
I have said, “**** the man!”
I am the proletariat,
I am in charge.

I am a student, dropout, and teacher.
I am class clown and teacher’s pet.
I have learned, forgotten, and taught,
But never learned my lesson.
I don’t listen to what I’m told,
But always do what I tell.

I am a genius,
I am an idiot.
I have intelligence, but often lack the intel.
I am naïve, but wise.
I am right and wrong.

I have philosophies and ideas,
But no religion.
I have desecrated and blasphemed,
Prayed and praised.
I have lusted, envied, and coveted.
I am guilty and innocent,
Pure and soiled,
Good and bad.

I am a driver and a passenger.
I am an explorer and a shut-in.
I am wild and free,
Caged and stifled.
I was warmly wrapped in my blanket,
But burned through it.

I have rode, climbed, and conquered.
I  stood still.
I jumped in.
I have fallen and been defeated.

I have been abroad,
I have been nowhere.
I have drifted.
I have settled.
I have led and been led.
I have been in and out,
Here and there,
Around and AWOL,
On the run and trapped.
But, not everywhere.

I have applied,
I have procrastinated.
I have worked my fingers to the bone,
I have slept it off.

I have fought and fled.
I have quit.
I have endured.
I am a winner and a loser,
A champ and a chump.

I am fake,
I am real.
I have lied, cheated, and stole.
I have been honest, fair, and generous.

I am selfish and selfless.
I am a gift giver, gift wrapper, and gift taker.
I am a thief and a philanthropist.

I am insecure and confident,
Confused and absolutely sure.
I am proud and ashamed.
I am complicated and convoluted,
But simple to please.

I have blind faith and guarded suspicion
I have secrets,
But lie rarely.
I accept everyone,
I trust nothing.

I have pointed the finger,
Only to turn it on myself.
I have held grudges and forgiven.
I have trusted and misguided.
I have been Judas and Jesus.

I am a maniac,
I am sane.
I have been strong and weak.
I can keep it together,
But prefer to break it apart.

I have bled.
I have healed.
I have been abused and neglected,
Coddled and protected.

I have been kissed and punched;
Hunted, wanted, and arrested,
Ignored, overlooked, and invisible.

I have loved and lost,
Lived and learned.
I am a soldier of misfortune and opportunity.

I have blended in.
I have stood out.
I have stood up.
I have backed down.
I have been backed into a corner.
I have all the space in the world.

I have seen, interpreted, and perceived,
I have ignored, dismissed, and been blind.
I hunger, want, and need…
I am satiated and content,
But never at peace.

I have been misunderstood and underestimated.
I have been put down, put up, pushed away, and let in.
I have been known,
But never entirely.

I have raged, cried, smiled, trembled, and laughed.
I have been depressed.
I have been happy.
I have been suicidal. I have felt death.
I have been lost and found.
I have been broken, then fixed,
Stitched, yet glitched,
Scarred, but whole.
I am alive.


I took the chance,
I let the moment slip.
I walked the straight and narrow,
I ran down the road not taken.
I dream; some whole, some shattered.
I go with the flow, but don’t let the waves take me.

I am shards and reflections,
Machinations and reactions.
I am translucent pieces and parts,
Assembled and disheveled.
I am the big picture still focused on the details.

I am the sum total of heredity and experience.
I am not,
I am more.
I am everything and nothing.
I am a walking contradiction.
I am human.

I tried to be you,
But didn’t know what that meant.
I am me,
It’s all I know.

Who are you?
Calvin Hill  Jan 2015
Black
Calvin Hill Jan 2015
You are black; we put you through that white school so you won’t be a stereotype; but I hate it out here; they’re expecting me to be this and do that but that’s not me; you can be whoever you want; I want to be grey; great black leaders and their followers struggled so you won’t have to; but what’s a leader if he isn’t reluctant; they had the support of thousands and all i have is you; you always have God; have faith and he’s there; I lost my faith long ago; I am just a number, and when I end, I will be forgotten like half my family and the war that kept them there; as much as I differ from myself, I am still the same as you; I am who I want to be not what old people want me to be; I just want to be treated caucasian; I try to move on but B.E.T. and Worldstar drags me back.; call me a Jaden but a culture as complex ours confuses me, so treat me caucasian; pure as a fresh start, I won't get any glares if I walk by a gated community; i also love being black; the music I listen to could only be black; never let anybody tell you how to feel, but that’s childish; what I think will make people see me as different but if I was caucasian, i could say what I want; be your own human is only something yeezy could have taught me; what I think now could only be temporary just like the vapor; I just want fit in the box you offer because my ideas I carry are irrational, obscure and should not escape from me; I could say what I want now but it’ll cost me my life later; I love being black: we all have a past to fill twenty million books but no one wants to check it out; I love being grey; stupid dumb teen with nothing good to say; I love being white; my words have enough meaning to have a writer to ask me for words; I see and have every future I could imagine yet I have no future; I'm not a gangster, I don't play basketball so what do I do?; I can be better than myself and I really mean that; I am the Internet with all of its weirdness but I am black; the good posture and the way I greet you is caucasion; what makes me what I am?; the person I want to be isn't what the world needs; like the open road all possibilities are endless and I'm taking all the backroads on my skateboard; free as if I'm on air but that won't last; man the world keeps me confined without telling me the charges; no, no, no, no, they can't feel what I feel; why? why? why? why?; I remember when I was important, that I was a friend; now I'm just a minority that was just imported; I am vapor; as temporary as I am, I will leave no trace of my existence; I am just another number in some census; if being black means having life without you then I am just a figure of pigmented cells; someday I'll mean something; someday I'll be something; the door is there and I'm opening before opportunity knocks; I am just a piece of paper that shows I am competent; 12 years of school and what else is there for me; I am annoying without saying a word and I can move you by just living; only if you know what I think; black is the Africa I don't want to know; there is nothing there for me or any where; just a ***** or am I a person?; the water is tasteless but has a mountain of favors as a caucasion; I don't know; its cold outside and I don't know what to wear; the world is cold; full of life and still desolate; the world is black but is best experienced if you're colorblind; the world is cold and all this ice leaves me blinded; people give me a topic that limits me; fenced in my own jail cell; laughed at for your amusement; put me down for your enjoyment; leave me alone; I want to go home, no ones there to guide me home; school isn't what I thought it would be; life isn't as good as I thought it would be; leave me alone; leave me be; I don't need but I want human interaction; I don't know; I only know how to be black; it doesn't matter what I know; better if you decide; better if you choose; I am black and I am wrong; I am black and as temporary as vapor; my idea black isn't your idea white but you sure think so; you can be proud but hate yourself; no one taught me that; I wasn't brainwashed; I saw a better world being grey that treats each other white and makes culture like black; that's cool; oh but like I don't say anything and all of this has no meaning; that's cool; I am quiet and I have no voice; I have an i.d. but I have no identity; my name isn't copyrighted so what's so special; I wish to pitch myself to the world again but as my voice shakes, so does their heads; I am only human let me make mistakes; being black is one of them I guess; yeah I could pilot your ideals; I could follow your plan but what is my purpose?; I contradict myself and I have no point; such a waste that is; such; a; waste; you have no value to us and as your employer, I terminate you; ha!; that get rids of that peon; yeah he was just dead weight; good call! hahahaha; they're **** ups but they're right; what's next for me?
My teacher said I couldn't go to college after reading this
betterdays  Mar 2014
worship
betterdays Mar 2014
you have come
to me,
this early evening

with
a need,
to worship
at my *******.

and who am i
to deny a man,
in his need

you bare
my udders
to the world
and sigh
in adoration.

before your
thumbtip
traces the
bluevein river
that arose during
the suckling season,
years ago
and has never subsided

you are fascinated by it
for me it is a blemish
upon the milky hills
your where your fingertips
trek and wander
those same hills rise now to
ripple and bump under
your roving sheperding skin

and your tongue asks,
seeks, direction in the vale
between
with pressing lips
and murmuring breath

that thumb
intrepid leader
of the pack
has  found a peak
and with rubbing
caress has claimed it
for his own

not to be outdone
your lips grasp
and flag the other one

but be careful
my wonderful
mountaineers
i feel
an earthquake coming on

as you quest and worship
at the two peaked temple

i  sigh and mewl and groan
some goddess i am
when i am the one who begs
you the peon for mercy

but soon the peon
shall become the god
and the goddess,
a pilgrim.

then i begin
a  sacred sojuorn,
in the southern regions
as i  worship
and love and own.
Michael W Noland Dec 2012
A toe-tapper with dapper deities dancing amongst my dreams, whilst whispering the seeds of hidden keys

Interloper of the thieves

Charmer of the fleas

A Powerful peon, seceding from the teams

Daring to believe in the sea, swallowing the cities in its grief

Dare to achieve the belief of flight and fly away

Contemplate and fall in over thought

Just do not

Stop

Doing the undo-able

Fate is renewable

Outwardly controllable

In what you think you see in the deplorable hues from the hopeful news of better days, lead astray in satisfaction to the complaints of saint-less ways

I debate creating another other place, and drifting away through space, but hey, maybe its a phase and i'm just late to the show

Last to know your nothings

Im [Spinning]

In place
STLR  Nov 2016
Escaping Retail
STLR Nov 2016
Stuck in skirmish of working this
retail

I'm intricately plotting my escape with detail

Now see well
it's time for an alternative path
One that I believe, achieve then kick ***

This ***** whack
working hourly wages
I'm Turning time into sand,
with people who won't make it

Reality is a series of obstacles
Let's face it

My sanity is slipping like
Like **** on black latex

How can I ******* break this
I've become a statistic
a realistic typical stereotype

I fantasize on the daily
wishing I can take Ariel flight

How can I steer clear of these mundane communications
slab-faced coworkers &
there basic conversations

I'm tired of it, I'm tired of it
I'm done with it...
No more giving a ****
Now it's time to resist
These urges of being someone
Who settles & simply quits

I seek to strive for more
My motivation is too legit
My skills are beyond eons
I will conquer with fist
No more being a peon
Dance then do a flip
Celebrate like I'm Deion

For this year will test
my patience & true potential
to many years guiding this pencil
Into oblivion

Blank spaces and synonyms
Wordplay over wordplay
Metaphors for my residents  
Letters create earthquakes
Echoes create resonance

I from art in sentences
This residue is my evidence

— The End —