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Safrina Kabir Jun 19
Eat,
Eat you **** fools
The best cuisine in the world
Cook a kitchen full
Eat a pea.

Spend the entire life
Stomping in union
False show of discipline, neat
Accomplish nothing.

We will change the world
Bit by bit
You watch
From the high throne
We provided

You are the kings, all-powerful
We let you believe that
So that the mouths are shut
No buzz buzz while we work

Live the lavish life we gave you
Sit on the top of your riches
Look down on us
As we write history

Hush now, no question
You have no business here
Not a play for fools
You aren't one?
Well, break the shackles
Climb down the tower
We'll decide.
The wheel of the economy runs over the hard work of working-class people. Revolution comes from the middle class and lower class people. It is proved again and again in history.
Randy Johnson Sep 2021
I was so scared that my hair turned gray.
All because I wore white after Labor Day.
I was scared that I **** nearly died of fright.
People became violent and I was forced to fight.
People were enraged just because I decided to wear white.
They kicked and punched me and some would even bite.
People kicked my *** on a regular basis and I had quite a scare.
I was so frightened that I constantly had to change underwear.
I got my share of bruises, broken bones and cuts.
An elderly woman even shoved her foot up my ****.
When it was all over, I was amazed that somebody didn't have to call my next of kin.
If I live to be a hundred, I swear that I'll never wear white after Labor Day again.
nicaila Jun 2021
Twinkle twinkle my little star
How I wonder how you got that scar
Up above the world so high
I could hear your silent cry
In this lullaby
Let me tell you a story
It's not a mystical fantasy nor just a legend spread by many
It's nothing but a harsh and cruel reality

I once got off on a damaged road
And met this child who wore a tattered coat
No slippers on his ***** foot
On his back was probably some loot
He got somewhere in the neighborhood
The cemented path was scorching hot
Oh how could I forgot?
It's 40 degrees outside and I could see sweat dripping down from his face non stop
How could I bear watch him that way?
So I approached and say if he want some ice tea
The child nodded with his tiny head
I led him to sat on the grass at the nearby park
Talked about things that made me upset
Things that snapped by bottomline thread
With a muffled voice he pretended
To be fine as he recalled scenes that made me shuddered
Who could have known a child who should be in kinder
Is working his bones for what?
A money so meager it couldn't cover his meals for dinner?
It hit me
Blindfolded eyes that couldn't see
That Jack and Jill did not just went up the hill
To fetch a pail of water
Needeed some lumber
Till the soil for the cucumbers
Catch some fishes at the river
Dig the goldmines deeper
Lights flicker, it's time for supper
Only noodles for the tummy
Where is empathy? humanity?
This was a result of poverty
Lack of responsibility
And a deaf society
His name was Juan and Juan got a sister
Who was so lovely it became her tragedy
Caught the pervert's attention
Made use of her innocence for exploitation
Robbed her dignity
She couldn't care less for your sympathy
She needed for you to stop being a silent somebody
Itsy bitsy spider
Spunning webs on tiny rough fingers
Cover the nose, chemicals in the air
The sharp tools beware
Take good care of your welfare
Ah, why do they have to bid farewell?
To stardust dreams? To fluffy teddybears?
To have notebooks instead of burdens?
To play hide and seek instead of running away from the grim reaper?
Open your eyes, people!
This is nothing simple
This is not a fairy tale
They are our children with stories to tell
Stuck at the deepest layers of hell
Being slaves to demons who don't give a care

It's time to row row row our boat
Gently but quickly down the stream
To rescue Juan and his sister
And a million more who we owed
Childhood memories and sparkling dreams
Row row row our boat
Get that voice you swallowed
Be their voice in a noisy seas
Let the world hear their pleas
To the children who had factory noises as everyday melodies
To the children who had stale breads as cookies
Who had rags as clothes and having shoes means luxuries
Show them that you care
That you are aware
And their hopeful shouts didn't led to nowhere

Twinkle Twinkle my little star
We are not so far
Up above the world so high
I could still hear your silent cry
But be ready to say goodbye
To the life worst than ants

Hold my hands
Let me listen to your heartly laughs
We rowed our boat for that
To see you away from the labor's grasps

Twinkle Twinkle My Little Star
Let me see you shine as the star you are
neth jones May 2021
sense heavy
  i plough at the day slurred
  pushing putty steps
aching and unfocused
  going about chores
  tackling things ...like...
...have i been delivered head trauma?

unbearable attention is drawn by my visible condition
pain inducing communications are fired at me
inquiry that i bat at and parry pathetic

Can I lumber onward
nauseated i
and be
in anyway productive ?
muscular suffering
this astronaut
this deep sea explorer
is
receiving a poor mix of gases

valve
carvermon Feb 2021
A billion dollars I have gathered
That’s the billionaire’s way
The bit that I’ve earned
a tiny fraction of that
(only so many hours in a day)
Instead of hard work
I work around rules
that once described the way
that one who worked hard
spending effort and hours
could secure that hard day’s worth of pay

Many have struggled
to build the wealth I’ve now juggled
into shelters and holdings and banks
I could carelessly burn it
‘cause I didn’t earn it
But those who did,
I guess,
deserve thanks
KG Nov 2020
Waiting on the elevator
For my day of labor
Instant gratification after
Days of waiting safer
Now we talk in secret
Spaces craving the others
Flavor of disgust leaving
Rust in my joints and bones
Masochistic I remember
Pain has always been my
Home.
Johnson Oyeniran Sep 2020
Shiny fine silver,
For a shy new driver,
Who in time, saved
Every dime, so he
Could buy, a sweet
New ride, for a fair
Price.
Michael R Burch Sep 2020
Sonnet: Second Sight (II)
by Michael R. Burch

(Newborns see best at a distance of 8 to 14 inches.)

Wiser than we know, the newborn screams,
red-faced from breath, and wonders what life means
this close to death, amid the arctic glare
of warmthless lights above.
Beware! Beware!—
encrypted signals, codes? Or ciphers, noughts?

Interpretless, almost, as his own thoughts—
the brilliant lights, the brilliant lights exist.
Intruding faces ogle, gape, insist—
this madness, this soft-hissing breath, makes sense.
Why can he not float on, in dark suspense,
and dream of life? Why did they rip him out?

He frowns at them—small gnomish frowns, all doubt—
and with an ancient mien, O sorrowful!,
re-closes eyes that saw in darkness null
ecstatic sights, exceeding beautiful.

Published by The Neovictorian/Cochlea. Keywords/Tags: sonnet, newborn, baby, birth, labor, slap, breath, screams, life, sight, vision, mrbson
Bhill Sep 2020
everyone has heard of the acorn tale
”Delusional thinking, obviously, the other acorns concluded.”
everyone has listened to the Little Red Hen
”she made the bread herself, she will eat the bread herself.”
----------------
not everyone has their hands stained with labor
we all need to work together
stop the bickering and name-calling
stop the delusional thinking and help make the bread
we got this - we have to get this!

Brian Hill - 2020 # 249
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