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Maria Mitea Sep 2020
I look to buy,
I want to buy,
Something mooor,
For my soul,
Give me the buy,
In your fancy store,
Give me the buy,
I can be mooor
I can make it feel mooor,
Poor craving soul.
Wants to buy,

I want to buy in your store,
Something mooor,
Give me mooor,
mooor, mooor, mooor,
buy and buy, mooor,
I can be mooor,
I can make it feel mooor,
So much hope
For my soul,

Something to like,
the next moment
I don’t throw it away,
Looking to buy
For my craving soul
I don’t know,
Somebody help me!
Get out my soul!
Out from your store!

Close the store door!
For my craving soul,
I’ll pay you,
Just close that door!
For this craving Soul
I don’t know,
I look to buy,
I want to buy,
Something mooor,
For my soul,
I don’t know.
Inspired from a shopping trip I had yesterday at Winners store. The avid shoppers inspired this writing. There was a song rolling “ Give me more Happiness .“ I ended up with this poem in my pocket and more money for me ... 🧚‍♀️.
Aaron LaLux Mar 2020
Another country closes another border,
this is a perverse reverse of the New World Order,
every headline reads the same thing,
the coronavirus has gone viral,

“Stay Calm & Do Panic”,
nothing is under control,
as if we need more encouragement,
to be more paranoid and less social,

mind racing as the world its put on hold…

“Practice social distancing.”,
“If you feel sick self-isolate.”,
“Go home, stay home, stay safe.”,
“Handshakes and hugs can wait.”,

national emergencies are declared,
caught off guard no one is prepared,
call in the National Guard,
fear is a powerful factor and everyone is scared,

I’d rather die together than live alone,
so I go out but find no one around,
so now the only way to connect is through my phone,

meanwhile back in reality,
only 5,000 people have died globally,
while 18,000,000 die every year from heart disease,
so tell me what’s really going on,

broken hearted the fix is in,
the new monster is CoVid-19,
it’s our generation’s 9/11,
the parallels are frightening,

and I don’t know what the heck to do,
so I just write these words as my message in a bottle,
which I send off from my island,
hoping it reaches you before the day after tomorrow,

as another country closes another border,
this is a perverse reverse of the New World Order,
every headline reads the same thing,
the coronavirus has gone viral…

∆ Aaron Lux ∆
March, 2020
Max Sep 2019
As the worlds gets smaller these days,
The distance grows.

As life is being made easier,
Why do the feelings get harder?

Why is it that when we look at each other,
That the the eyes are not the thing we look at?

What is progression if regression is it's consequence?
Thinking in a negative or realistic way, I can't tell the difference.
merciless genocide
     slaughter of native peoples
     wrought with (super) wanton zeal
feeble ability to thwart

     "discoverers" rapine wicked onslaught
     merely ratcheted wrecked webbing
wrenched tribal unity,
     violently rent asunder

     vibrant indigenous linkedin weave    
rendered sacred weltanschauung
     decimated "noble savage"
     woke wretched nightmare,

     sans pock marked worsted weal
the Native American holocaust
     shrouded in whitewashed veil
tragedy trampled truces

     triggering tearful trail
scoped scattered remnant
     snuffed out via surveil
futile sympathetic remonstrances,

     viz rant and rail
hermetically sealed
     ***** deeds done dirt
     blunted, cheapened,

     and deadened
     lance armstrong to quail
most definitely coloring faces
     of captive

     American Indians deathly pale
into figurative coffin
     got hammered
     rusty nine inch nail

subpar critical population mass
     for survival, plus storied "red man"
     bereft of ample potent male
off limits to original proprietors

     forced to hightail  
happy hunting grounds o'er hill and dale
becoming desiccated bleached bones
     devoid of awful, pitiful,

     and sorrowful fait accompli
and roaming spirits
     like banshees bewail
grievous shadow a blot doth cause me to ail!
Pearson Bolt Jul 2017
a ****** of crows gathers
over Hamburg, carrion carrying on
with business as usual.
feeding on the festered flesh
of a gentrified populace.

in private jets coughing carbon
they fly from the west on turbine wings,
engines screaming as they dive towards a nation
secured by razor-wound walls
and barb-wire borders.

they pitched a battle in Germany,
convinced that austerity
would ******* the resistance
and give justification to premeditated violence.
but the tables have turned on the thieves again.

we are the end result of your failed policies,
globalization has destroyed our homes.
if your cabal rallies like a kettle of vultures,
you will do so behind closed doors,
cowering in your fortress' halls.

you shall not pass. watch as the power shifts
like the melting gears of torched BMWs.
we will tear the vestiges of your authority down.
we will black out your surveillance cameras,
smash your windows, and block your limos. no pasaran.

flee, while you can still run. this city belongs
to the wild ones, a black bloc, thousands strong,
dancing amidst the tear gas, tossing molotovs.
marching to liberty's sturdy drum,
equal in our solidarity song.
Solidarity to the wild ones in Hamburg.
Sleep seems to be the only break in this globalized world.
Even among the lesser advanced cultures
It's the only break from everything we have to affiliate with.
Death is just permanent sleep
Be thankful you wake up every day
Morning, Afternoon, whichever.
A poem on sleep that i finally got to writing.
Homunculus May 2015

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.
Homunculus May 2015
Perhaps, We have a worldview, that has turned a bit myopic.
Perhaps, We need a checkup from a doctor for Our optics,
Perhaps, We need for them to write Us out a new prescription, then
Perhaps, We'd see the truth in life that's written in inscription,

Perhaps, the Earth is weeping somberly, but We don't care to listen,
Perhaps, it warns us of Our doom when global profits are our mission
Perhaps, the World is run by men, whose only drive is for themselves
Perhaps, the few will **** the many, just for monetary wealth,

Perhaps, We're all too blind to understand the implications,
Perhaps, a future fraught with poverty and war is what We're facing
Perhaps, a different train of thought, is faintly running by adjacent,
Perhaps, it's one that wrests its life from the stagnation of complacence

Perhaps, We're living forms of life that have been cast inside a mold
Perhaps, estrangement from each other causes Our Hearts to grow cold
Perhaps, all concentrated power's an illusion, We behold,
Perhaps, We all could take it back, if We'd stop doing what We're told

Perhaps, Our Being is unique, and isn't something predefined,
Perhaps, Our priorities in life should they themselves be redefined,
Perhaps, Our voices are of import, and should not be undermined,
Perhaps, We all should organize, and build a world of new design

Perhaps, it is the Media that keeps Us all divided,
Perhaps, We should act neighborly and strive to be united,
Perhaps, in living as a People, We would find Ourselves delighted, and
Perhaps, We'd change the status quo, if We would only try to fight it.
Repost for repost. Mutual altruism.
AD Mullin Nov 2014
Reconstituting globalization to
re-imagine democracy.

By throwing out scale we
the economizers are forced
to turn into misers
and the satisfisers
might rid themselves
of their pacifiers.

It's all about story and
consuming someone else's
turns you into
an actor, an automaton.
Was it prescribed?
Were you imbibed?
Then you are impaled
on an un-truth and
living out a script
that is not your own.

Time to get ruthless and
cut those strings that
lead us to, plead us to
buy, buy, buy (and cry, cry, cry).
Of course, we might find
a guru
to lead us to promises
of promised lands but
this ain't the way to

Unlock the path that lies within.

I'm talking 'bout multi-spectrum bridges
resonating in frequencies
that ring true for you:

this is the story of Power Geometry
From Wikipedia: Power geometry, according to Doreen Massey, is how the time–space compression of 'globalization' affects people differently. She describes power geometry as the "very distinct ways in relations to [the] flow and interconnections" between different social groups and different individuals.

According to Massey, power geometry concerns not only the issue of who moves and who doesn't; it is also "about power in relation to the flows and the movement" in distinct relationships among different social groups in regards to mobility. Those who move freely have power.
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