"bigwigs" poems
within Zieglerville, pennsylvania
genuine snow white hair
upon her noggin doth adorn,
perhaps she will divulge to me (in private)
after i croon (to said lass),
the melody of Jimmy Crack Corn
hmm...or, maybe this mission
perchance twill be doomed from the start,
and hence finding me forlorn
thenceforth, a backup contingency measure,
would warrant me to don my thinking cap,
and for extra ordinary reinforcement unfold
each Taj Mahal shaped ear flap
plus (for reinforced ironic steeliness),
aye also resort to buttress
any aural "stormy Dani yelling)
via walled in interlap,
which accouterment functions
as a double agent i.e. (or,
to be rather crude),
an audiological jockstrap
to vet or figuratively kneecap
any unwanted infiltrating leaping lap
ping "FAKE" distracting news
inducing madcap
mass media circus
driving this generic teetotaler
to pour himself a nightcap
essentially providing wig gull room
with very little margin of ear err, or overlap
against bigwigs to trumpet pap
pill low ma rendered free and clear
asper insidious (mama mia) paparazzi
charting imp pea ching fear
bringing out bare arms
most likely something internuclear
simply to discover visa vis authenticity
if cute employee
(sporting hair
white as the ****** snow),
which doth simmer and glare
blindingly, thus necessitating sunglasses
(I choose the Ray-Ban brand)
as recommended by cited
all time favorite pharmacist
who unwittingly (or simply because
my myopic eyes didst stare)
fixedly - drawn to such a darling (doll ling)
explaining any reason to go THERE
to CVS - that tis where.
Mar 28, 2018
Mar 28, 2018 at 5:58 PM UTC
Another day, another dollar
Or so the saying goes
You work so hard just to be hollered
At for bringing to work with you, your woes
You aren't a person once you've clocked in
You're not supposed to care
About the goings on in your own world
So **** it up, 'cause life's not fair
Always put your best foot forward
Nothing less than your best will suffice
Don't you think that a golden watch
On your superiors' wrist would look nice?
You're working for "the big man" now
Don't you understand?
Everything you do from here on out
Will add more cards to his hand
Try to come in when you're sick
Don't call off too much
How else will the higher ups
Pay for their daily corporate lunch?
Be happy with your current wage
You make enough to get by
If you ask for more, you could be fired
Without being given reason why
One day once you've given your all
You may be able to retire
They'll give you half of your former pay
As by law they are required
Month by month you'll receive your checks
Though they might not be enough to live
Your whole life they get to take take take
While you'll only ever give
At least now you can relax a bit
Maybe you can finally see
The whole world on a map before you
What it means to be broke, but "free"
May 14, 2016
May 14, 2016 at 9:22 AM UTC
My English teacher asked us
to bring a poem in
one that really speaks to us
that resonates within
I did a lot of research
read poems through the night
Wordsworth, Keats, nor Shakespeare
could help me with my plight
I needed just one poem,
an expression to confess
my deeply burning hatred
of this teacher, unimpressed.
So I rifled through the classics,
through the bigwigs and the toffs
but all I found were thee's and thou's and an awful lot of doths
then I was sent a masterpiece
that describes these thoughts of mine
when this teacher says my poetry
is just a waste of time,
so I'll read it out in class today,
then with the Head I'll end up sat
but I'll always be so grateful
that John Cooper Clarke wrote ****
Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 5:26 AM UTC
I wonder what this world is coming to
When we have to overcomplicate everything
All I hear on the TV of late
Is ‘bare craic’ as my northern Irish friend would say –
“I can’t understand this credit crunch,” she said
Poignantly, (neither could I) “I think I’ll take
A dander down to the shops.” And so she did
We were out of milk
And living off salami
I picked up the paper
And I realise nothing is without a price
Or a fate
They are the two certainties
So is death
And the price is not so hard to see either.
The American bigwigs sit round a table
Complaining what is to be done about the financial crisis?
Each eating a $16 dollar muffin with their $8.48 coffee
Wondering where oh where can money be saved?
And they’ll get back in their private limos
Drive past their second addresses
Back down to Bel-air
Lock themselves in their villas
Count their bonuses
And sleep happy
After doing jack ****
While Greece is going down the crapper.
I can see the solution
Can you?
Or is it just me?
Or can you see it to?
Nov 11, 2011
Nov 11, 2011 at 3:06 PM UTC
All the bigwigs in our village
Took refuge in the mercy
Of Fortune.
It came to such a situation that
If we locked our house and left,
Before we reached the goal,
At least ten fifteen Fortunes
Would come looking for us.
I noticed
How quietly
Does this Fortune make its entry.
Earlier, it was so noisy.
“Tomorrow tomorrow tomorrow”
The sing song chant
Was amusing.
Slowly, Tomorrow became Today.
“Today today today”
How many times have I joined the chant!
Now,
How forlornly
How silently
Does Fortune arrive!
It has lost its speech.
It has contempt for itself.
It has shrunk into itself
More than the ex-serviceman
Standing in guard before an ATM.
Where did Fortune’s voice vanish?
Does it mean that Fortune has no voice?
That Fortune itself has ceased to exist?
Kuzhur Wilson / Trans by Ra Sh
May 20, 2018
May 20, 2018 at 10:07 AM UTC
The waves are dredged along. Under the constant gaze
of the shimmering top floor moon.
Down to each second to each hour.
But, you are the angel fish, floating
free
beneath the cover of these tides.
Your shoals guide, the humble anglers
home
a silver blonde amongst the bigwigs,
The local red army, clothed in Cex shirts,
not needing an October symphony,
but now I sing your praises.
The bag you gave, though I had no 5 pence to spare,
lightened my load as much as any camel
along the silk road.
My journey is eased,
by your projected hope that my railcard,
will be renewed in future,
for your faith gives promises the
weight
of Gold.
You allow me to watch the guided heroes in explosive flames,
despite my smuggling
of Jelly babies under a hoodie.
For the shimmer in
Your
eyes, I will leave no litter,
for those with the blonde glittered scales,
From cold night, let the sun rule,
And the sea shall shimmer too.
Sep 9, 2018
Sep 9, 2018 at 1:03 PM UTC
Executive- My powers are absolute,
thus I am totalitarian.
The legislature and judiciary
are each subservient to my whims.
I pass my bills with attendant
compliance, and interpret my own
terms as the law.
I shut the doors of compassion,
I am very deeply elusive.
I give no room at all to dissent.
I get bloated with the treasures of the nation.
In a leap year's tenure I bulldoze
my way back to my incumbent status.
And when four multiplies two, I impose
a minion to cover my ills.
Legislature- To obnoxious decrees I give my consent.
I inflate yearly forecasts to become opulent.
I am gratified for the cabinet servants' affirmation.
I always my selfish treaties ratify.
I am undoubtedly slavish to executive excesses.
I seek the redress of constituents' grievances
to enlarge my pocket's size.
And above all else, I am largely rubber stamp.
Judiciary- My evasive justice is yours' to reap
if you are a top notch,
whilst I withdraw the distributive
and restorative from insolvents.
I base my interpretations on business
interests,
and make laws for the interests of
a cabal.
Equity and rights are only in my
constitution stated.
But in reality they are no more
than abstract twins.
The sacred laws of our national prospectus
I serve as a weak custodian of,
and weaker still in the face of political
heavyweights.
But with all the lofty responsibilities
I am reverently saddled with,
I can do nothing more than
empower bigwigs because I am weak,
and they are powerful.
Aug 2, 2023
Aug 2, 2023 at 5:29 PM UTC
I think Kenyan politics like love is blind
And we are just visually impaired beggars
Waiting to be given crumbs and the leftovers
As the true 'nation owners'
Share the bigger pie, with greed and 'honor'
I get sick every time i get to watch this sequel
With too much unending repetition
Impersonation
Individualization
With despots ruling the nation.
We've totally failed as a people
Always ready to criticize
But never determined to see through
Always ready to fight
When it's us with huge dues
Protecting our own
When it's them that get huge!
Someone told me to vote to eradicate
The rot
That through my vote
Maybe there will be change in the lot
And the true will get afloat
But I'll have to disappoint,
In a system this rogue
To vote i will not!
No need to confront
Let me express the systems faults.
Politicians fighting for supremacy
The bigwigs protecting there lame legacy
Whilst people in the north are hunger stricken
And the system blames the weather for its wickedness
Corruption levels are beyond explanations
With money for development disappearing in the boardrooms
Leaving unemployed Youths struggling to bet on their livelihoods
In a system this rogue
To vote i will note
When the main agenda in Kenyan shows
Is politics
And who will get to be the kingpin of all
When the Chinese are taking over our plots
Leaving Kenyans at their mercies with no hope
When it's huge loans that are borrowed
But no track record or development to show
And that's just a piece
Of the iceberg that we've crushed in
Breaking the system to bits
The system is sick
But again we are blind
And not even struggling to see
I wonder what miracles we'll need
Just to put the system to speed
But still
In a system so rogue
To vote i will not!
Akwana Wa Odera
@the_real_akwana
© 2019
Apr 3, 2019
Apr 3, 2019 at 3:08 AM UTC
when i get to heaven
i'm living with the pigs
my home in the sty
while my soul is in the sky
i'd rather squeal in the pen
than sit with the bigwigs
and though my neighbors snort and cry
i'm fine to writhe and eventually fry
Sep 19, 2024
Sep 19, 2024 at 9:58 PM UTC
Holding a placard in his hands,
Depicting 'Where is my family?',
Waiting for years to be espied,
An orphan to be classified.
Skyscrapers and bungalows across, Bigwigs with their footing and gloss,
Eluded the paparazzi, no clicking please!!
And they went on behind them for a glimpse.
"O dear! pa..pa...paparazzi!!
Come to me and click me.
Don't waste your time."
Pleaded ...The Orphan.
Paparazzi seldom are indulgent-
To know the bourgeois and indigent.
Under their ken,they follow the fame,
Lights and ramps are their only aim.
What if so called showbizzy,
Paparazzi or any other crazy,
Cared about this frenzy,
To give the '#Orpharazzi'.
Dec 23, 2018
Dec 23, 2018 at 12:55 PM UTC