"bankers" poems
And all your heros are gone,
but you refuse to take off the mask.
A loudmouth, a capitalist,
with greasy hair and a golden toothpick,
he is your enemy
he is your oppressor and
he sits upon a throne of coal and blood
with armed security
and a nation built for him,
to protect him and his money,
a police state, pat downs on the corner,
murdered in the street,
your daughters gotta eat.
He grows fatter and fatter still,
he loves complacency,
he loves contentment,
he invests heavily in both.
He knows we are strong,
he knows we are many,
he knows he must divide us to win,
he knows we're his greatest weapon,
so he created Fox News,
he created TMZ,
stealthily,
we didn't even notice,
he created NPR and KVIE,
he gave them masks that look like ours.
They look poor,
they look starved,
they look like us, but they have a different master.
Our master is the earth,
our master is our coworker, our neighbor, our mailman,
our dishwashers, our bus drivers, our minimart clerks.
Our masters are not the TV,
our masters are not the radio,
our masters are not the New York Times,
they are not National Geographic,
they are not BP,
they are not our principals, our administrators,
our policemen, our CEOs, our investors, our bankers,
our insurance providers,
these people hate us,
they hate us because they can't squeeze blood from a stone,
and
the rivers are running dry,
the factories are standing still,
the people, our masters and our friends,
they're in the streets,
they're shouting "BLACK LIVES MATTER"
they're shouting "NO JUSTICE NO PEACE"
"NO MORE WAR FOR OIL"
**** THE POLICE"
"DOWN WITH THE 1%"
and soon
and soon,
The False Gods will grow so fat
and we'll have nothing left to eat but them,
and on that day we'll sit down to dine
and it won't be civilized and it won't be pretty,
their blood, our blood, will feed the rivers and their flesh will feed our hungry children and their money will burn and warm our chilled bones but we can't wait,
we can't wait for this to happen because everyday they grow stronger,
we grow weaker and the river becomes dryer.
The Bourgeois is our enemy,
they say 'All Lives Matter'
they say 'Work Hard and Your Dreams Will Come True'
BUT THEY LIE
Jul 12, 2016
Jul 12, 2016 at 4:54 PM UTC
Income is an intangible,
Taxes are an intangible,
Neither exists right now,
Only the promise of it in the future...
That's what credit is... a bet against a promise.
Which means all of nothing,
since it hasn't happened yet,
all credit is risk of one degree or another,
...based on tolerance or gumption.
If all people are, "risky,"
then all credit is risk,
none can be more credit-worthy;
less risky...
So why not turn future liabilities into income,
instead of future income into a liability?
Hmm...
Impossible?
Yeah, ...since anything that gives ordinary people power must be impossible. Jesus must not believe in individual power. The Founding Fathers must not have believed in individualism. No, ...only the state backed by a selected wealthy few should determine everyone's fate by economy.
Only a few should have it all....
...no opportunity for anyone else; the weak, poor, untalented, ugly, simple, ordinary, dumb, handicapped; those ones don't matter.
Just NFL players count.
Only singers and actors count.
Only bankers and doctors matter.
Jesus would agree.
Makes so much sense?
Nov 3, 2016
Nov 3, 2016 at 11:58 PM UTC
Woof.....woof.....woof...woof....woof....wooof
Some Red setters dogs are eating Jewish people
in England
But why, do call them off, they are british people,
The are hard working, Industrious, Entrepreneurs,
Professors, Doctors, Lawyers, Bankers, Entertainers
Scientists, Writers, eminent Surgeons, Artists, these
are nice Britons....stop the dogs, stop the dogs.....
Woof....woof....woof.....woof.....woof...woof woof
Some Red Setters dogs are eating and biting some
Labour MPs all over the country
But why, do call off the dogs, No! we have a list and this list, highlighted the behaviour of a number of Left MPs, including Jess Phillips for telling Corbyn’s ally Diane Abbott to **** off”, John Woodcock for dismissing the party leader as a ******* disaster” and Tristram Hunt for describing Labour as “in the ****
and all the other hard working Moderate MPs who dared protest at Anti-Semitic stance or supported the Jews .
Woof.....woof....woof....woof.....woof.....woof...woof
Some Red Setters dogs are devouring some minor
Royal from Africa
But why, do call off the dogs. No that ****** has a big **** he's
Charismatic, intelligent, wholesome, has good work ethics, polite,
wise, charming, generous, witty and a ****** good lover and to top it all he's Royal. Now that's ******* GREEDY, how much can a
******* man have. NO! he's a goner. He is too perfect, he must be hounded and persecuted to death.
Woof....woof....woof.....woof.....woof.....woof.......woof
Grrr.....woof.....Grrrrr....woof...wooof...Grrrr....wooof
Congratulations People, we have got rid of them all
we now have real democracy, we have a real society now
Get in the dogs ... And all you useless ******* people shut up!
And report to the Labor Camps 7:30a.m. tomorrow
You're Working Class and now you ****** have to work!
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 6:45 PM UTC
All of the Gnomes from around the globe
Just sneezed their very last sneeze
They've had enough of this allergy stuff
And from the garden they're taking their leave
They packed up their bags, donned their bonnet's and caps
Left in the cover of night
Said goodbye to the trees along with the birds and the bees
And headed out for the big city life
No one had a clue from which wind the Gnomes blew
It was Wa-La they were suddenly there
From Bankers to Lawyers to Tele-marketer callers
They infiltrated every career
Soon they were drinking like fountains as the bills started mounting
With the pressures of the ride to the top
Pills became an everyday need to stay awake and fall asleep
Not sure when this madness will stop
On top of it all they started to cough from the smog
And wondered which one was the worst
The garden allergies or this black lung disease
Either way the Gnomes felt mankind's curse
So they turned in their suits and their ill gotten loot
And took a trip back to the suberbs
Now in the garden they smile cause they know all the while
Yes...it could be a lot worse
Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 9:15 PM UTC
Dread the free time
But still can't wait to have it
To seize peace and quiet
By my force of habit
And flee far away
From a central locale
Of a jobless, impoverished
Human garbage pail
Full of wasted potential
Unutilized power
Another kid lost to disease
By the hour
Devoured from inside out,
Parasitic
A malnourished mortality
Fated statistic
Accounting for little more than
A UN
Detrimental development
Index embellishment
IMF, World Bankers swooping in
Heaven-sent
Millions lent
Never spent
Back on the people
Just keep them like sheep
Marching on to the steeple
And reap what they sow
How so little they yield
Until cityscapes swallow up
Forest and field
And behind their most opulent
Optic facades
In their decadence festers
The graces of Gods
Nov 23, 2018
Nov 23, 2018 at 5:09 AM UTC
"Beep-beep.
BANKERS TRUST AUTOMOBILE LOAN
You'll find a banker at Bankers Trust"
Advertisement in N.Y. Times
When comes my second childhood,
As to all men it must,
I want to be a banker
Like the banker at Bankers Trust.
I wouldn't ask to be president
Or even assistant veep,
I'd only ask for a kiddie car
And permission to go beep-beep.
The banker at Chase Manhattan,
He bids a polite Good-day;
The banker at Immigrant Savings
Cries Scusi! and Olé!
But I'd be a sleek Ferrari
Or perhaps a joggly jeep,
And scooting around at Bankers Trust,
Beep-beep, I'd go, beep-beep.
The trolley car used to say clang-clang
And the choo-choo said toot-toot,
But the beep of the banker at Bankers Trust
Is every bit as cute.
Miaow, says the cuddly kitten,
Baa, says the woolly sheep,
Oink, says the piggy-wiggy,
And the banker says beep-beep.
So I want to play at Bankers Trust
Like a hippety-hoppety bunny,
And best of all, oh best of all,
With really truly money.
Now grown-ups dear, it's nightie-night
Until my dream comes true,
And I bid you a happy boop-a-doop
And a big beep-beep adieu.
4.7k
Starvation.
First and foremost
The plot thickens and the atmosphere is beyond any thunderstorm.
The forecast was predicted before the growling began.
Bellies ****** in not by choice.
Now misconduct fills the void .
I'm starving
He's starving
She's starving
The people are ready to run a mock
Have you ever witness ***** in a bucket, they fight relentlessly to get out until they tire.
Have you ever witness a person eating mud patties to ease the hunger pains, I'm talking about the real hunger games.
Shortcomings is starvation
Starvation of:
Attention
Food
Education
Clothing
Electronics
Transportation
***
Hugs
Love
Fathers
Mothers
Family
Yet, politicians act like they don't know what I am talking about .
And beanstalk will never grow if beans were handed out.
Give the people jobs that match America's cost of living.
I can hear bankers & corporation whispering blasphemy .
What does it really mean to live among the living when you are the walking dead......
We want flesh.
Aug 24, 2013
Aug 24, 2013 at 6:58 AM UTC
This is a song to celebrate banks,
Because they are full of money and you go into them and all
you hear is clinks and clanks,
Or maybe a sound like the wind in the trees on the hills,
Which is the rustling of the thousand dollar bills.
Most bankers dwell in marble halls,
Which they get to dwell in because they encourage deposits
and discourage withdrawals,
And particularly because they all observe one rule which woe
betides the banker who fails to heed it,
Which is you must never lend any money to anybody unless
they don't need it.
I know you, you cautious conservative banks!
If people are worried about their rent it is your duty to deny
them the loan of one nickel, yes, even one copper engraving
of the martyred son of the late Nancy Hanks;
Yes, if they request fifty dollars to pay for a baby you must
look at them like Tarzan looking at an uppity ape in the
jungle,
And tell them what do they think a bank is, anyhow, they had
better go get the money from their wife's aunt or ungle.
But suppose people come in and they have a million and they
want another million to pile on top of it,
Why, you brim with the milk of human kindness and you
urge them to accept every drop of it,
And you lend them the million so then they have two million
and this gives them the idea that they would be better off
with four,
So they already have two million as security so you have no
hesitation in lending them two more,
And all the vice-presidents nod their heads in rhythm,
And the only question asked is do the borrowers want the
money sent or do they want to take it withm.
Because I think they deserve our appreciation and thanks,
the ********* who go around saying that health and happi-
ness are everything and money isn't essential,
Because as soon as they have to borrow some unimportant
money to maintain their health and happiness they starve
to death so they can't go around any more sneering at good
old money, which is nothing short of providential.
4.5k
West reality made so
that people forced to consume
whatever material or unmaterial goods
here any protest is legalised
in form of demo
which is necessary surround by police
northeless there are people exist who are illegal
beside of refugees from east lands
there also socalled insane people
who are locked in closed loony bin
or hunted like amok
untill they really get insane
if you take separately each after other
their fate and observe it precise
you will find there all the evil of
patriarchal repression
what is the consequence of capitalism
patriarchal repression
which is so masterfully comuflaged in west
but since the victims, the renegades live on rand of society
no one ever take their lifes and deaths under lenses
just example:
feminists dont fight for the rights of the debased woman
in their neigbourhood
but just speculate about arbitrageness in Iran
not ever able to change something in afar lands
they simply ignore evil which happens beside them
every day, every night
there is pseudo-publicity in capitalism
since those who rebel against
become mostly so oppressed
that they never ever get any chance to
speak out loud
and revenge!
While those anarchists and punks
who squats in city and towns
will never give political asylum
to the one who's life circumtances
penetrate to be betrayed by friends
living on the streets and parks
and hunted by psychiatry
during anarchists and punks are not
real activists of underground
but just kind of subculture
which live quite comfortably in capitalism
it just funky to be anarchist or punk
and nobody knows how they will act
in critical situation
I lost my believe on socalled leftists
in fact they are same equal part of society
like bankers or yuppies
with a difference that they
pretend they still had some ideals!
known to many
believed by the few as
the truth
Accordingly my individual struggle their claim
is nothing as fallacy
whom believe? Whom with resist in action?
Where hides real iconoclasts?
Dec 11, 2013
Dec 11, 2013 at 6:04 AM UTC
Whenever I'm around my family,
I get this low kind of feeling.
My family is full
with the kind of people
that become vps,
investment bankers,
nurses,
lawyers.
me:
little ********
that smokes ****
calls himself
"a writer",
and doesn't like to have
long conversations
about his future.
I am not one of them,
I am not a black sheep, or a black pharmacist,
or a black lawyer.
I am something
that wants to become
something,
when I am unsure
of what that something
is.
A continual
rebirth of somethings
likening myself
to God
with so much
internal creation.
This is malignant
to my family's ideals
of self-assuredness
and placement,
brutal placement
in America.
Nov 23, 2011
Nov 23, 2011 at 5:18 PM UTC
I cancelled my bank overdraft
Cut my cards up in a small pile
Actually, it was quite large you know
And this act made me smile
Just deal with cash from here on out
Never buy more than I need
It released a weight off of my shoulders
And deep down I felt freed
fiscally conservative
financially responsible
My nation cannot do it
Without me as an example
No more fees for paying late
If I need it I pay cash
Budgets I will follow
And spending...that I'll slash
Can you imagine if a nation
Took this simple thought to mind
Just pay with what we make from tax
And leave what we can't afford behind
No missiles, and no foreign debt
We're just beholding to ourselves
It's politically reprehensible
But, we owe it to ourselves
fiscally conservative
financially responsible
My nation cannot do it
Without me as an example
No more fees for paying late
If I need it I pay cash
Budgets I will follow
And spending...that I'll slash
No government agendas
To trade for that we can't afford
It would ***** the nations bankers
And make the economists quite bored
To be responsible for our actions
We are taught right from the start
don't spend the money you don't have
Well, to me...that's really smart
fiscally conservative
financially responsible
My nation cannot do it
Without me as an example
No more fees for paying late
Spending I will slash
My budget I will follow
And from now on pay just cash
Sep 1, 2012
Sep 1, 2012 at 7:57 PM UTC
The Creator looked at the elephant and said:
I made you big so you could be gentle
To the mouse he said: I made you small
so you could walk tall
But over millions of years you two could exchange
places and one become the other.
I know I shoved the lot of you in an Ark
Because Noah was being a pesk asking for rain
when his washing machine ran dry
So I had to fill the oceans to stop that old man
from complaining all the time. Besides I needed the bark
from the trees of the Ark to make me a small tug boat
to carry some DNA samples of my own, in case,
the lion ate the cow, the tiger chewed on the cat
and the fox tricked the rest with his cunning ways
You see, my friends, there was no grass, or snakes
or bird cages, or trees for the monkeys to swing on.
I thought of many things before I gave the building plans
to Noah and his sons. Only one was a builder the rest
were bums, who never held a hammer or learned how to
tie two bits of trees together, leave alone building
an ark to hold the worlds whole creation.Thankfully
there were no real estate agents pushing the price up
or bankers charging interest. The mafia thought of charging
an entrance fee for each pair, but before they could do that the rains came pelting down and the tickets got washed away in the storm.
So you see the Ark was a joint venture between
The Americans and Chinese and Indians
because they were willing to multiply quicker
than the rest once Mt Sinai rose up to meet the
oak leviathan from underneath.
And so my dear elephants and mouse
and fox and snake and bird and
lion and tiger. Noah and his wonderful Ark
was a script written well ahead so that Russell Crowe could get
a part playing Noah in a computer generated extravaganza
where only the actors and actresses who could afford
to pay a price to be in it - were involved.
The rest of mankind be ******
Author Notes
Quirky.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 6:48 PM UTC
I see humans but no humanity
I see a society but no unity
Happiness comes from within
But we all seem to forget
Ignorant, naïve
And judging from incompetence
Fighting for peace
Not respecting history
Searching for truth
But you've lost your way
No more believers
Forgotten how we got here
Looking for freedom
But support the oppressor
Don't accept responsibility
And hope you don't get caught
Because you're not really breaking the law
Your conscience is poisonous
Apparently your doing things the right way
Children are dying from illness
But we're complaining about immigrants
Stop following public opinion
And separating nations
Just because you're not blind
It doesn't mean you can see
Teach your future generation
Less clothes equals beautiful
And white equals superior
Money equals power
Divide between the lesser who are inferior
***** hatred and say its dutiful
Who are you trying to fool
We're dropping like flies
She killed herself because of cyber bullying
And he's tired of acting strong
Fearing to cry and be ******
Abuse, neglect and poverty
Increasing frequently
Morality crisis
Blame the youth and teenage pregnancies
To combat it a genius says let's teach them whilst they're younger
Sounds good right?
What about censorship
Safety and protection
Young minds are susceptible
Ignore the practice and theories
Pride doesn't let you back down
Blame the rap and rock music
Its preaches violence and hatred
Rebel riots and corruption
East and west its affected us both
Greedy bankers
And terrorists or freedom fighters
A time of lost trust
And each to their own
Independent battles
No one is connecting the dots
Its like global dominoes
Inter connected problems
One leads to another
And the root cause is lost
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 6:38 AM UTC
We see so much inequality in our world
And its only been enhanced
And put under a microscope.
Because while the people are suffering,
The bankers,
The CEO's
The politicians,
And the capitals;
They're all getting richer.
I don't believe in bailouts for
Corporate CEO's,
For stock market traders,
Or for banks.
What I do believe in is bailouts for
The poor,
For the students
For the workers.
I most certainly do
Believe in justice.
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 12:36 AM UTC
little the life that is left unto us now!
wars a ****** in!
(COME SAVE US E E CUMMINGS!)
the massive death
the rags of poverty grief and despair that shall be
our only dominion in a matter of days or weeks or years
(at best)
oh ****
are here
after I finally have come to kinda like it here
amid the queer folks and the paparazzi
socialists and nazis!
but the bankers have mastered oink-piggery
and the politicians have turned us into
****** weenies seeking only false security!
and there is no life left here!
(WHERE ARE YOU E E CUMMINGS!?)
ah, gentle reader, be brave be kind and good still
be the subtlest sense of decency shining and displaying
a last bit of reverence for this sacred universal place
we are in
though painfully being murdered
let us rebel gracefully
and live freely
again
Jun 8, 2010
Jun 8, 2010 at 11:38 AM UTC
Why do artists **** their arts?
Journalists obey corporate bosses.
Doctors peddle drugs for status.
Lawyers work for robber barons.
Bankers' havens for barons' taxes.
Kings start wars for hefty profits.
Charity's done for the sake of publicity.
Vanity today is a thriving industry.
Shopping's done with borrowed money.
Bankruptcy levels; not seen in history.
From hazardous things; profits aplenty.
Poisoned wells we leave our progeny.
These lunacies have a common cause,
To win 'the rat race'; at any **** rate,
Even earthly mother, we brutally ****
How much is enough, to be content?
Pharaoh's wealth was greater than most,
But while he drowned, it saved him not.
Instead, strive for a righteous life,
Bonded to mother, free from desire.
For we're not islands, or rats in a race.
And when we stand on Judgement Day,
Our wealth that day will have no say,
Our deeds that day will lead the way.
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 4:23 AM UTC
Last night up on the ridge
a whippoorwill sang
its incessant sweet song
in the thick, firefly darkness.
Dante was right to make Hell
a place without birds.
They fill the world with music
and ask nothing in return.
The purity of sweetness
without the demand for profit.
What a lovely notion.
- mce
Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 10:41 AM UTC
Living in a world run by bankers
You could be forgiven and think their wankers!
Politicians are now morally bankrupt
Yet voted in by all of us
A shambles the world stage thus becomes
When wars for oil are fought and won
For who holds the reigns in this new age?
A world of fear and religious rage
The media would have you believe that everyone's our enemy
All fed the same by those in power, brainwashed TV every hour
No lesson yet have we ever learnt our fate seems sealed and we shall burn
Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 11:03 AM UTC
To say that
BARAK OBAMA exists
Is a JOKE!
•
(He is not even a
Figment
Of
The imagination)
•••••••
OBAMAcare?
•
It should really be called
INSURANCE-COMPANYfuck you! **** you!
**** you!!
Till your dead!
••••••
Homeland Security
"Secures" the Homeland
In the same manner
As a LOCKDOWN
"Secures" a prison
••••••
••••••
••••••
The AMERICAN DUMMY sat on the wall
The AMERICAN DUMMY had a great fall
All the BANKERS and all CORPORATE HEADS
Gathered around to enslave all his kids
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 6:36 PM UTC
the skull and spine of seventy seven men, extracted.
retribution far past putrefaction.
a pile of bones in the center of town, at the corner of washington
& rochambeau.
gather around.
do you believe in the boogeyman?
a glitch in the darkness.
an echo of rage, high chroma bacteriophage.
every faithless father,
every sister spared,
every ritual sung just right, a brief blackout,
reconfigured pixels of outer night.
[bobby’s sega genesis awakens on its own]
thirty three years to the day, he
died on that suncrest boulevard, returned today just to say “hey.”
graveyard family tree and the moon.
first as a manifestation of electromagnetic phenomena
in a videogame’s cpu. 1993.
second as a fully-fledged entity materialized via videocassette,
hungry for pizza and pure vengeance. 2001.
third from beneath bedrock, the quarry belly baste,
a body buried thrice, undead toxic tumescence,
a walking corpse heaving black plasma. 2020.
the sequel.
the son.
the spectral chosen one, he
rips out a throat or two, quite fashionably so,
a man about town throttled and disemboweled,
as friends and neighbors stumble and sprint to escape with their own godforsaken skin.
let the bone collection begin.
emerged in afterschool hallways to **** old classmates turned teachers.
emerged in afterhours offices to devour old buddies turned bankers.
emerged in the quiet dark homes of neighborhood flesh and folk.
blood soaked socks.
why? you ask, must all these people die?
vengeance? no.
that was a lie.
he killed those people for a laugh
& that’s that.
Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 2:58 AM UTC
I was stuck
there's nothing else to say.
I was stuck on the corner of Innes and Main
walking to Expressions, the only smoke shop
where high times wasn't ready to
come out of the closet,
where Hustler was always
6 months old,
where you had to call a **** a water pipe
because the cops came in too often.
I was thinking of the **** trailers
20 minutes out by the lake
and how when I was young they all seemed like
weather factories - heavy cloud but no rain
*sniff sniff
something's on the oven.
it's a world of difference
on Innes and Main.
bankers, business owners,
and old folks walk by with a
look in their eye that says "you're
exactly like you're t-shirt -- secondhand."
here I am secondhand.
here I don't have a name, just a presumption.
here I am nothing.
nothing good.
I kept walking.
I started thinking about my dad --
the first time we got high
together was on xmas day. I was 20,
he was weary and his roommate ALWAYS
had bud. here's the skinny:
we'd get ****** watch ****** movies,
he'd argue about how good they were
and I'd never quit laughing.
then the come down.
he'd start in about what a huge mistake
he's made of his life.
and he'd count his past regrets
on his fingers like he was learning
addition and it took the strength of all of my bones
not to grab him by the shoulders
and yell "DAD.
QUIT BEING SENTIMENTAL."
and I swore I'd never be sentimental
and I'm not sentimental.
I just know where I'm going.
but when memory's teeth breaks skin
like plaster,
when fresh marks color blood
over old wounds,
when you can't find home anywhere
but in a blunt or a bottle,
it doesn't matter where
you're going.
Oct 3, 2015
Oct 3, 2015 at 11:11 PM UTC
I am victim only to constant distractions,
restrictions, prescriptions, vicarious factors,
as various factions of elitism prescribe defeat
to the common man; the hard working talented
beaten upon by the self driven commerce land.
Businessmen, crooks, warlords and bankers;
victory purports itself the higher moral ground.
******* the world, lie on the crimson sand.
The brevity of riches in led laden ditches,
trenches v armistice; one man’s control over
cadets and lieutenants. Equality it seems
is general ignorance, propose roll reversal
and receive corporal punishment. Capital
interests will be met with bursaries, bail
out the banks and return to your knees,
put out your hands and beg for your feed.
If the top three percent own more wealth
than the lower half put together while
politicians claim to be fair-weather,
conclude that sincerities amiss, that
your representatives are on the pay roll
of profit driven lobbyists. Career crazed fat-cats
couldn’t care less if you're in tattered garments
or there’s a hole in your dress, their polished
boots carry them from vault to vault
while we fill another with oil-baron asphalt.
As social repression pushes populations
science progresses, enabling armed forces
to kettle us, cut us off and circle on horses.
Power-shifts across the globe become jaded
by investment with private militias and fascist
supremacists seizing resources from war
torn villages to fund their crude sourced
morality, migrants and refugee families
are vilified by ignorance forged in cynicism
caused by the inequality of education.
Here lie the symptoms of infinite regression,
hold mirror to gene-pool as it replicates
the same flawed equation, as populations
expire and conspire so does the problem.
Bombing a country without repercussions,
is as likely as a breaking the waters surface
without sending ripples to the adjacent atoms.
These are the dark ages of social stagnation.
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 11:00 AM UTC
We salute you,
Gentlemen,
And Ladies,
God bless you,
(He clearly has)
We bless you,
We support you,
At par,
So far,
Lest you bring us all down,
(That was the threat,
Was it not?)
You are so
Wicked smart,
Except those few,
Who couldn't hold on,
For our gravy train,
To respond,
For those few,
We hope last year's bonus,
Will help you survive,
Your trip down the tubes,
(Sigh)
And for all,
We are led to believe,
That you're back on your feet,
And doing quite well,
We were glad to help out,
Your derivative pleasure,
Just makes our hearts soar,
And to help you to help
The economy heal,
We're taxing your janitors
More than your managers
'Cause we know you're the source
Of all job creation,
Within this great nation,
How do we know this?
Well,
We've been told this
Been told by some very fine folk,
Some folk whom you... own?
For sure there are doubters,
But we question their wisdom,
We don't even think that
They're being good citizens,
But there are some suspicions,
My well heeled good friends,
That what's good for you folk,
Might be just a bit toxic,
To those of us few,
Who compose,
That diminishing remnant,
Of what once we could call,
The vast middle class,
Today,
We ain't even,
Half vast.
Sad to say,
Now a few of us wonder,
If you're not quite our friends,
If you don't have our best int'rests
In your schemes and your ends,
All of those yachts,
They're critical – right?
We believe in you now,
To make every thing bright,
To bring our economy
Back from the dead,
To create all those jobs,
With that barely taxed bread,
So,
While we're eatin' those grits,
In this world that you've made,
With the pols that you've bought,
Just Remember my friends,
Rot infects not just wood,
But your hearts and your souls,
And the Fire Next Time
Might be more than a book
It might be unhappy folk,
With your ***** in their sights.
Oct 6, 2011
Oct 6, 2011 at 9:40 PM UTC
WE sat together at one summer's end,
That beautiful mild woman, your close friend,
And you and I, and talked of poetry.
I said, "A line will take us hours maybe;
Yet if it does not seem a moment's thought,
Our stitching and unstitching has been naught.
Better go down upon your marrow-bones
And scrub a kitchen pavement, or break stones
Like an old pauper, in all kinds of weather;
For to articulate sweet sounds together
Is to work harder than all these, and yet
Be thought an idler by the noisy set
Of bankers, schoolmasters, and clergymen
The martyrs call the world.'
And thereupon
That beautiful mild woman for whose sake
There's many a one shall find out all heartache
On finding that her voice is sweet and low
Replied, "To be born woman is to know --
Although they do not talk of it at school --
That we must labour to be beautiful.'
I said, "It's certain there is no fine thing
Since Adam's fall but needs much labouring.
There have been lovers who thought love should be
So much compounded of high courtesy
That they would sigh and quote with learned looks
precedents out of beautiful old books;
Yet now it seems an idle trade enough.'
We sat grown quiet at the name of love;
We saw the last embers of daylight die,
And in the trembling blue-green of the sky
A moon, worn as if it had been a shell
Washed by time's waters as they rose and fell
About the stars and broke in days and years.
I had a thought for no one's but your ears:
That you were beautiful, and that I strove
To love you in the old high way of love;
That it had all seemed happy, and yet we'd grown
As weary-hearted as that hollow moon.
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