Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sunday morning coupon clippings
like breathing for gasps of the air
while out there
the beads of rain
necklace the silky spiderweb
and all they want to do is decapitate,
amputate and castrate
a piece of you.
to hack off what’s been given
like a bull in Cambodia,
to surgically remove what’s been earned
with an incision of accuracy.
ah yes, the prairie state- land of crucifixion:
everyone on the cross with black blood streaming down their cheeks
it’s like roaming through the jungle
of machine guns blazing
from behind the trees
and slugs whizzing by your ears
with feet failing to trudge
through the battlefields
of dead bodies at dusk
and arms raised waving the white flags
we all enter en masse
receiving less than half
putting up with twice as much
like products of the tombs
working twice as hard
plus some illegal activity
on the side just to drown
in their inflationary sludge
we can’t even afford to walk
across the room anymore
so often times you’ll find me
lying down
twisted in the sheets
feeling as comfortable
as a Picasso painting
with nowhere else to go
nowhere else to turn to
except dreaming of death
in the minarets of my past
and gently plucking lilacs
from the garden of my love.
I once saw a nation on fire,
just their home a family's desire.
The government was corrupted by liars,
with an economy trapped in quagmires?
To end the schism they gave Wall Street socialism,
leaving 'The People' impoverished and tired.
these days a visit to the doctor
is quite dear
and it fills the patient with
a great deal of fear

consultation charges
are well above inflation
but if you don't pay the set fee
you'll receive not proper medical investigation

the day before yesterday
I went to see
my quack
and when I got the invoice
I was taken aback

GP's are making
really big bucks
by treating themselves to the
ailing person's money trucks
Salmabanu Hatim Dec 2017
"My love,
My Sun God,
The beat of my fragile heart,
The crown of my head,
What is inflation?"
asked the wife to her husband.
"My sweetie  pie,
My Moon Godess Artemis,
My exotic perfume,
It's  simple.
First, when we got married,
You were 36-24-36,
Today you are 48-52-50,
You have everything more than what you had before,
But, your value has become less,
That's INFLATION.
Economy is not hard with a good example
How horrible the plot
the hem, the haw
of the incessantly violent
torture ****
   How sad the politic
the row, the scorn
the media howl, the noise
the storm
           We are drifting in a sea
         of bobble head puppets
         backstabbing, mass murdering
         mask-faced tyrants
         and we are loosing the battle
         before it's even begun
            So go ahead now
         and trade in your votes
         sell off your rights
         buy a backfiring gun
            Because nothing is worse
         than trying to reverse evolution
         and you can't crawl back
         into the womb of your Mother
         once you've destroyed
         the primordial ooze
         of creation's lubrication
         for a dollar and a cheapened dream's
         inflation
This was prompted by the election debacle between Hillary and Trump, of course, as well as fears for what happens next.
Got Guanxi Jan 2016
turn on a sixpence

i slipped on your silhouette,
as i crept in your shadow.
Obscured in your umbrage,
an abundance of dark.
Opaque mistakes clouded,
our nebulous hearts.
I shaded your colours in grey tone,
to take home,
your essence in plainclothes,
and our monotone goals.
I was your eccentric apprentice,
You were a trip to the dentist,
pulling me out of comfort zone.
I had decayed in ways,
concaved incisors seen better days,
yet in spite of my enlightened phase,
the sweetness of life took me away in a chain of abuse of penny chews and the absolution of front page news.
I choose me,
I choose you.
Now if i misstep,
i’ll turn on sixpence;
and my value to you will continue to grow over time.
It just came,
Noone saw it coming,
Maybe others did but they kept quiet because they were too scared to say it,
Its effects affect all,
It brings questions and worry,
It scares everyone,
Makes all think poverty is knocking at their doors,
It breeds hopelessness because the solution seems too far to be reached
And thinking of one isn't an easy task
but all will be just fine,
Time will surely pass it on to history.
AW Nov 2011
Again the thought
'When I'm alone,
I'm sure gonna cry'
Knowing that
I'll break my heart
Later that night
Aware I'll do this
To myself
A million times more
Aware that in the end
I won't see
Anything to live for

— The End —