why is it that the zombie can't speak?
why are zombies poor?

why are most vampires rich, educated and always dressed well?



LET'S STRIKE FOR ZOMBIE RIGHTS!
SCRIPTWRITERS AND FILMPRODUCERS HAVE TO MAKE A CHANGE.

If we ate the rich
We could build playhouses from their bones
Paint fairytales onto marrow
Watch our children dig pixie dust from the grooves
Charleston to their windchime laughter

If we ate the rich
We could pave roads with their teeth
Crushed into twinkling mosaics
Speed in glee down the polished calcium roads
Walk on blooms of gold and lilac at sunset

If we ate the rich
Their skin could line our altars
Or catch the heat slipping through our walls
To warm our hearts or frozen feet
Whichever love was needed most

If we ate the rich
And cleaned our teeth for ligaments
And spat out the fatty gristle
And when all that remained of the last billionaire
Were just an eyesocket and some coins

We could sit back,
Minds and bellies full to the brim,
Fragmented bourgeoisie burps ringing, melodious,
And laugh at those who claimed, in the old days,

"You can't eat money".

When is a man destitute? Destitution
is not being impecunious. If ever you
are poor, you are poor of heart. If ever
you are without, you are impoverished
of spirit. When coins of kindness cease to
flow from your being, then you are destitute.
Wealth is not worth.

Copyright 2019 Tod Howard Hawks

T'was the night before leaving
And all through the flat
All the creatures were creeping
Especially the rats.
The food was all stored
In the fridge with great care
For all the Cockroaches
Crawling 'round there.
The paint was all peeling
The mattresses stained
The children kept silent
For the Neighbors complained.
Their parents despairing
For what they would eat
No help from the landlord.
No family to greet.
For they were evicted.
Left out in the cold.
They'd sleep in their car
Which was rusty & old.
They are broken hearted!
Should this end as it aught?
Does this sound like
Your Christmas?
Of course it does not!
Please give to the homeless!
They live in all lands
But their Christmas is brighter
Due to your Helping Hands!
Your time's of great value
As is your wealth
But it's better by far
To give of yourself!
Pass out food to the needy
So they can sup
But don't give a hand out
Give a hand up!
The Bible sure tells it
It'll give you a clue
Follow the Christ
Do what Jesus would do!
But keep it a secret!
Don't broadcast to all!
God will reward you
For heeding His call!
You will have pleased Him.
Spread cheer all around
You will find up in heaven

A GREAT JEWEL IN YOUR CROWN.


Catherine Jarvis
12/16/2019

Fractured light gleams off the walls
Reflecting off the Rolex strewn casually across his immaculate desk
Its platinum plating smirking at the watchers
From under the diamond rock.

He wanders through the halls
Stares at the struggles of those below him
Through the translucent walls.

Reaches out a hand
But can never touch the world
Obscured by the diamond windows
That are his prison.

Tilted, rounded walls make caricatures
Of lives, of livelihoods, of people
Like funhouse mirrors in the playground
Of life.

He winds his way through the streets
Of those outside his cell.
Staring through the milky panels
That bar him from his subjects.

Though he can never touch, never truly see
It is he who holds the power
above the watchers below.

No matter how much strength of yours is kept
It always comes back down to whom you know
For every time you think you are adept
The caws of meritocracy doth crow

Americans have dreamt in dreams of gold
High hopes upheld with promises of clout
By working hard there’s fortune to behold
Lest lack of means cause gatekeepers to doubt

Yes, push that rubble up the sacred hill
To watch it fall and tumble to the depths
For all eternity it is your will
To pay with sweat and blood for all your debts

Perhaps if only there were something more
To lifting destitution from the floor

I'm penniless and heartless,
London did it to me,
I'm strong and also fatherless,
London did it to me,
knocked off and aimless,
London did it to me,
being poor is not a choice when you earned a first degree,

rummaging through my bag,
nothing left...its not because of you its because
everything in London is hard up.