Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Carl D'Souza Jul 22
In a joyful and happy society
should every person
who works 5 days a week
be paid enough
to buy all the products and services they need
to live a joyful and happy life?
I start having nightmares before the beginning of any war.
During my sleep, I remember my sisters and brothers,
who played, smiled, loved, and were loved before.
I remembered my mother and the rest of the mothers.

During my sleep, I thought of my school,
the kindergarten and the friends of my niece.
I thought of my swing, my toys and the big pool.
I realized I would miss living free in peace!

The war waged, and I saw what no one has seen.
In front of me, they got ready for the battle.
They brought tanks, guns and an F16.
With hate, they were rushing just like a cattle.

Guns made in East and West pointed at me.
I saw no birds, but warplanes flying over the skies,
bombing, not caring about a he or a she.
I saw blood, felt sorrow and heard cries.

They destroyed my family home,
burnt my books and broke my pen.
They murdered my brother’s spouse,
and threatened to **** me again and again.

Black smokes surrounded me from everywhere.
Big explosions hitting here and there sounded.
Toys broken on the ground, balloons flying in air.
Despair spread, fear planted, hatred rounded.

Despite the war, I raised my hands and prayed,
that I get back to my home where I played,
that peace come and never be delayed,
and that my freedom will never ever fade!

Mohammed Arafat

15-01-2019
This poem is the experience of every child found her/himself in a war waged by merciless decision makers all round the world.
Lim Peh Sep 2018
"They make a dollar.
While I make a dime.
That's why I always ****,
On company time."

Why do you waste your life
Making dimes and quarters
When you can spend your mind and time
To go make some dollars
Jack L Martin Sep 2018
was uttered in a
computer generated,
non-demeaning,
gender neutral tone
by the impersonal,
unemotional,
automated,
grocery checkout machine.

"Enter your customer ID now!"
demands the artificial human.

"And... if I don't?"
I query the metallic shell
of what once was
a minimum wage employee.

There was no reply.
Jack L Martin Aug 2018
Hello

Thank you for stopping
How may I help you?

I would like
two items
from the value menu
to feed my children

Nothing for me
I will go hungry
A few dollars
is all we have

The kids are in the back
of our rusty car
our home on wheels
In need of repair

Rent was late
the electric was turned off
their father left us
we were evicted

no support from
our family
our "friends"
or the government

we are alone

By the way
may I please use
my employee discount?
Based on a true story
a morning
of gratefulness
will heighten
my apple
or sprite
only that
one wakes
the ***
with golden
keys till
dawn flies
in rhetoric
with plea
of harmony
that properness
is parallel
as thee
a note on thrill
'tis witch
that whir
the candy
to spur
and these
islands there
through this
flight that
erudite this
squirm in
the hearts
of her
fashion that
her capital
is a
tie onto
luggage rack
spice in orient
Ron Gavalik May 2018
In a world of wage servants
we are drugged, propagandized.
That's how the keep us
docile, in line.
Sometimes a servant refuses
to take his meds.
His spoken truth burns down
the facade, for a brief moment,
until he is silenced.
SangAndTranen Mar 2018
It's far from homely
Odour of something
Don't know what.
Kick crushed cans
Scattered
Envelopes of late payments:
cant afford them.
Shove them aside
Drag thumbs over
The chipped controller
The tinny TV
The low-res game.
Grab a stranger
One night stand
Clinging to their skin.
Unsightly.
Grunt.
Chafed and blotchy
Pretty scrawny
No one cares.
Use them
Like they are using you
To escape the drag
That is this existence.
Leave them in silence
Belt buckle done up
Hiss goes the beer can
Slump
Take a swig.
Back tomorrow
To the grind
Splash face
With water
Fumble sleepily
With the nylon tie
And crawl through
Another day.
I decided to be blunt and honest, hooray.
A Jukebox
Heroine wholly
my fave
and in
this enclave
she'll rock
while the
deposit must
spin 'bout
Gibraltar but
coin slot
of my
finger wave
as she
dies the
fairer death
rave here
A Jukebox Hero'd antidote
Next page