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A firm grasp upon my neck
a choke hold I can't deny
living in the hear and now
until the day, we'll die

The man I know is in control
economic and socially defined
wanting every dollar
and yes, every single dime

Political and medical
lawful and corrupt
lustful need and urgency
immediate and abrupt

Where does the greed abort
and lead to blissful shores
satiating an endless need
as just more money
than before
Less than 1 percent hold over 90 percent of the world's wealth, how much is too much? I can't imagine being so rich I could never spend all the money I have, would love to find out though LOL ;D
try to begin
the weather is cold
try to walk
the sleep is funny
the other reach
you still have wish
and wait for a witch
who makes you rich
and gets your want publish
the dream wants work and work not sleep
Josteen Yazzi said the Critic should ask his thought

on the matter of great art and literature

What do you know of art and literature, Uncle?

Nothing, he said, I think about what I do not know.

I do not know why people don't like Norman Rockwell.

Norman Rockwell painted the American Dream,
with Indians in it, some times.

I like Norman Rockwell because I know how he felt.
I saw my people live in a good world that vanished.

Magic or other wise, I remember mine,
the way
when I see
Mr. Rockwell's America as he imagined
he had seen it.

Or maybe he painted
what you should have been able to see,
but for wars and Spanish Flu and cattle barons
and reaping machines and steam and electricity.

Olaf Wieghorst coulda painted America ****, too.
But he didn't.

Literature. I have nothing left to say, Norman Rockwell, maybe he needed a mentioning for some
reader anchored reason.

We have to deal with that more these days.
People with big old dish antennae out there,
rusting after Direct TV got a satellite to see the res,

Some o'the kids build a radio telescope, outa them three meter models,
so we are connected.

Norman Rockwell painted the Peaceful Kingdom,
just like Mr. Hicks and Mr. Kincaid,

not mr klee or mr picaso, they could image ****.
My ma liked That drippy guy, said she could see the swing of things in he's paintings, What's-isname,

Jackson, damshame, Jackson Pollak right?

but the message is in the medium, that's what my Shicheii yoosto say. Art must sing.
So I can play my drum. And she can dance.
When we think nothing about it.
Thinking about America and an old man who taught me to ball trees. I had a job rescuing orange trees, Josteen Yazzi, he's not really a Navajo, but he was a bracero who staid without papers and nobody cared cause he was the last tree baller.
Gods1son Oct 29
Born with a silver spoon
And ate from a golden plate

Born with a wooden spoon
And ate from a plastic plate

Your upbringing is not the main determinant that you will be great
Of course, it does go a long way
But it doesn't have the final say
Every person still has a price to pay!
Kim Essary Oct 28
He resides in his kingdom heir to his thrown, with all the riches of this world, his people kneeling at his feet
What more could he ask for, he's living every dream a poor man haven't the means to meet.
Yet the poor man lives in his old run down house no food on the table no power to see,
But the love in his heart and he is a husband to his  wife and a father to his  kids , these are all the rich man wants to be.
No matter how rich in money there remains a void that all the money will never fill,
The poor man with no money has more in riches than the rich man ever will.
Money will never buy happiness
O’ my lord, Do you see
What my ***** eyes see

Healthy bodies, shining faces
Glittering eyes, crooked smile
That’s how the rich look like

O’ my lord, Do you see
What my ***** eyes see

Diseased bodies, pale faces
Wet eyes, no smile
That’s how the poor look like

O’ my lord, Do you see
What my ***** eyes see

The empty stomach of poor
Keeps burning, turning into fumes
As it exhumes

O’ my lord, Do you see
What my ***** eyes see

The filled stomach of rich
Keeps working, generating energy
As it digests and absorbs

O’ my lord, Do you see
What my ***** eyes see

The rich utilize their energy
To exploit the poor
And to support capitalism

O’ my lord, Do you see
What my ***** eyes see

That’s why, I declare war against you
I know, I will lose, I will die
But still I choose to revolt

Sorry Lord, But I Still Choose to Revolt
money can’t buy it
clouds can’t hide it
books can’t define it
the heart can’t deny it
pearls can’t outshine it
you’re rich when you find it
you’re a beggar without it
no-one knows what it is but
you know when you’ve got it

Her heel is adorned with rubies
her temple with sapphires
her calf is painted in gold
and her glorious thighs in kohl

The curve of her hip is tucked in lapis
the swell of her breast is caressed by jade
skin so rich she shines like onyx
eyes so warm she can make a man

This is all she wears
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