I am quiet in a line of on-lookers, big-thinkers, hell-raisers
I sing a song to a corner in the room
It winks and blinks along the beat as
Large shadows confidently raise their arms in triumph.

I am sitting still, a floating ocean depth silence
Watching waves crash and clatter miles overhead--
What fun they must be having out there in the world!
Where the blue is sometimes yellow or pink and
All one knows is not only the dark, deafening hush of
Blue--Where
The colors really taste like they advertise:
Savory sweet honey orange, supple plump green melon,
Ripe for the picking, these--

These are the pickers.
With their power-tool loudness, their "I can fix it!"
The red-runners, the green-makers.
Their lawns rolling out like gold ****** dresses
Reveling in their own chaste gold underskirts under a matching
Gold sun
The earth bowing her shoulders to make room

I am the crisp subtle crunch between bites
The shamed blouse of the *****
The sufficiently watered bud among a field of tall daisies
The pause in your breath
The silence of an empty house

The quiet lemon shavings left on
The quiet cutting board,
Bleeding rind by way of knife

The metaphor in a poem -- waiting in quiet verse
To rear its head to the reader

How many empty glass bottles can you shove into a bag
Before it all leaks out the bottom
I am the bottom
A soft reflection in the train-car window

I see you all.
I hear you.

I don't know quite yet if
I understand you
Rambling on in high buildings with your
***** reared high.
Whether love is just temporary obsession or
If one can make it to death without truly living.

But I do know, quite often, that there is meaning
In complete
Silence.

--
c

The earth's people are corrupted,
Listen to what I have to confess!
If there are emotions behind their motives, they will search and look into things which they should have been better off unseen, forgotten,
If their wish is to become alike a demon, they will dye their hand red,
If their desire leads them to be angel like, they will dye their hand in innocence and purity of the good deeds in order to achieve this goal,
The sweet poison of a lie's flavour is very sweet, likely to be consumed by those who are afraid to confront the cruel, harsh truth,
Bound in constant change, the true nature of a human remains, within the depths of their soul, somewhere deep inside, sealed away,
Admire the moon, as the remains, called corpse rots under stardust,
Does its reflected light begin to wander ? We will see, here at eternity,
After all, this natural satelite, becomes more distant due to tidal effects, leaving us behind, even if it is simply small steps it has taken,
Being forgiven from the endless purgatory, the suffering one may call
"Living" within the transience of this planet which comes to ruin through their greedy hands, desires to make more income and wealth
Drawn out in long shadows, through winding fate amongst strings,
After all, this is a pure stream of sadness.

~Umi

"I walk these cold empty streets at
night,
Without knowing how to make it 
right,

As you sleep in your warm
bed,
I can't fathom how to make it
ahead.

Will you know I wandered
past,
Ponder it as you break your
fast?"

It was an awful time
In a regime of crime;
Of robber barons who
Increased the taxes to
Barricade their homes
And set thieves to roam
So they could all carve
The poor and let them starve.

The poor, so sick and dull,
Felt they were being pulled
Between half-truths and lies
That were all disguised
As the loving benefactions
And the word of some god
From ancient lost times
Imported from The Land Of Odd.

It was a scary times of idols
With feet of pond slime who
Confused the people and
Took their civil rights too
And stole their pensions
And their insurance away;
Would not protect them
No matter what folks would say.

The poor, so sick and dull,
Felt they were being pulled
Between half-truths and lies
That were all disguised
As the loving benefactions
And the word of some god
From ancient lost times
Imported from The Land Of Odd.

It was a horrible time here
When leaders didn’t lead
Or see to what those who
Had elected them might need.
The stupid poor watched as
The nation slowly eroded away.
What a sad tale of a sad land.
The land is us and it was just yesterday.

It was an awful time
In a regime of crime;
Of robber barons who
Increased the taxes to
Barricade their homes
And set thieves to roam
So they could all carve
The poor and let them starve.

he says to me,
i remember when i was young.
i stood under the bridge
and watched as cars passed above me;
i stood there, alone
with my fishing rod,
waiting.
i waited and longed
to one day be able
to afford more than
a fishing rod.
now, i am fifty years old.
i have more money
than i ever imagined;
i can buy
more fishing rods
than i have fingers.
but i want you to see,
when you watch the cars pass above you;
let them go.
let them pass ahead,
all you need
is what is in your hands already.
because you can't be buried
with a car
with a house;
you can't take money
to the grave.
to live simply,
that is the bridge
between life and death
to the nirvana.

Are you down on your luck?
short on change?
no place to go?
caught in the rain?
Just **** it up & don't complain.
you're on your own - that's capitalism!

if you're poor you
deserve what you are
cause they're rich for a reason
the things they believe in
social darwinism its
survival of the fittest its
living for yourself dont
mess with no one else
and if you don't make it
then you just couldn't take it
and you don't deserve to live anyway...

do you need an out ?
is there no way in?
are you just waiting
for your life to begin?
Well clearly you don't deserve to win.
They won't help - that's capitalism!

The people who make it
clearly won't break it
cause they  have the smarts
to succeed in the art of money.
So give'm all the funds
watch it trickle down and run.
It's a free market, so
let it loose, watch it go.
If there's monopoly
they want you to let it be
its only a kids game to them. . .

no pain no gain.
but if it's not their pain
their result's the same.
but what have we gained?

Is life a dead end
in the land of the free?
ruled by the rich-
a bureaucracy.
No end in sight that we can see.
Our legacy- is capitalism.