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They sell God
In festive season
To feed their children
They buy God
To win favours
The poor artists
Couldn't win favours
Sell Him
For them to win
His favours
Poor artists find it difficult to survive.
annh Sep 5
You ask of which I am most afeart, the rumbling tumblings of the troll beneath the bridge or the tinkering favours of an eccentric fairy godmother. Alas, it is the marzipan crumbs of inspiration leading me down the brambled garden path which most unsettle me; the ink that does not write; the unpainted page with not a gingerbread house...in sight.
‘If you ever find yourself in the wrong story, leave.’
- Mo Willems, Goldilocks and the Three Dinosaurs.
Nothing changes no matter how you try. Change your perspective... see it from another view they say. They must not know in the world I'm a slave to stay. Nothing changes, nothing gets better, just let me die one day soon, and when I try to see it out but it didn't go as planned and I'm still barely alive, do me a favour and walk on by so that death may shortly take me away. Thank you.
Nothing does. Not for me. I'm tired and I'm exhausted. Seeing others mistreated and I have no way to make it stop. Not can I stop the injustice to me. Is it too much to wish to have your hair done at least once a year or 2, is it too much to have a pretty yard to gaze at the beautiful buttterfies and birds, is it too much to expect for your husband to touch to in a way a man that touches her to make her feel like a woman more than every 7 or 8 months. I give up or I want to but got to get the courage and knowledge to do it right.
contributor money will buy
a favourable outcome
this is the most favoured
beat of drum

drumming up money
in mountainous piles
brings favour's ideal
winning smiles

if favourable outcomes
are what you so seek
stack the wads of money
in heaps not so meek

drumming favours
favourably
drumming favours
liberally

the vendor of said
drum beat
will ensure favour's
so neat

to achieve this goodly
outcome
keep beating money's
opulent drum
Vivian Ienello Feb 2016
your scarf traces your cold skin, a warm smell of rain

wrapped up in favours, not your particular flavour,

       it’s bad now//it’s bad now// it’s bad now

                Do you just let things
                              IN?
Fly with it on a
                    WHIM?
            I could never be so thin,
      Holding up a barrier caging what’s
                          IN
It’s numb now// it’s numb now// it’s numb now

Let them flow,
           right through
               your tainted soul
             Show them what’s real

      It’s real now//It’s real now//It’s real now

— The End —