"greediest" poems
the carrion birds
squabble over red roadkill
greediest bird, more dead meat
( he flew up late
so met his fate
fast karma )
Mar 7, 2012
Mar 7, 2012 at 1:16 PM UTC
I am very seriously angry
My government has gone mad.
It seems to be out to get me
And take everything I ever had.
Once I was proud of my country
And got a swell in my throat
When I heard the national anthem.
That was before they stole my vote.
That was before I discovered
This country had been co-opted.
That was before the them of hatred
Had been officially adopted.
That was when animals were safe
And our national resources were too.
Now my government was to ******
The birthright owing to me and you.
That was before being rich
Was the only way to be fairly safe.
That was before the government
Chose to put their weapons on strafe.
That was before the wealthy
Could do whatever they might want
And before they felt it was their right
To go on television and flaunt.
They flaunt their hatred of women,
The poor and the weak and sick.
That was before I could not deny
Our country had become a ****
A horrifyingly rich and powerful
Banana republic , we’re the worst.
Equality and protection are gone
Unless you are a millionaire.
And even then you must adhere
To the party line or else beware.
But we have the greediest bunch
Of liars and evil brand of crooks
That have ever been in control;
The leaders are cooking the books.
Nov 17, 2017
Nov 17, 2017 at 8:26 PM UTC
Devouring natural resources,
is it really worth,
destroying our planet,
our mother Earth.
Machines covered in oil,
drill to the core.
We can't get enough,
always wanting more.
And if we could,
we would,
**** this planet dry,
till we all suffer and die.
Wipe the oil from your mouth,
you sick corporate machine.
You're the greediest *******
that I've ever seen.
And your putrid smile,
how it makes me sick.
The oil that covers your hands,
will always stick.
Our world is crumbling to pieces,
to nothing.
Is it really all worth while?
If they could stop, would they?
No, they'd continue.
No one can wash away,
the sticky black residue.
Wipe the oil from your mouth,
you sick corporate machine.
Jun 25, 2012
Jun 25, 2012 at 11:47 PM UTC
Stay low for the cause;
That’s how you stay true.
History says the common man was you.
You ate pain and out came gold,
Did you regret the struggle as you grew old?
Keep your voice down.
The masses might hear,
Of words spoken that sound,
Like a rich man grows near.
Show them gold is for fools.
Pity the greediest men.
Though if you had their tools,
Could you have been?
Reclusive you lived, so lonely you died.
It’s been seen before, but by which design?
Fate that curses genius to misery;
Or pride that yearns for no legacy?
Oh why do we slave over the gift?
What a twisted sense of glamour!
Bring me the fossilized tears,
I must know the taste!
Was it the struggle that made you great?
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 12:53 AM UTC
My life was not always fun
When I was a young kid
So, I often felt better if
I took a book and hid.
As long as Mom didn’t catch me
Find her work for me to do:
I had chores and nobody else
Not even Mom, it seemed.
She lay on the couch
She watched TV and dreamed
Of winning Queen For A Day
And waking up skinny.
Yes, I had some good days
But, really, not all that many.
So, when I could, I read
Every book I could easily find.
I even read romance books
Because Mom only liked that kind.
I read religious books too
Like King James’s Bible translation.
And, I read those Awake pamphlets
That got strewn around the nation.
We weren’t allowed to read
At the table during our meals, so
We read boxes the cereal came in.
Today that seems kind of nuts-o.
But I read what I could find around
And enjoyed Dad’s western books
Because reading their novels
Never got me a nasty look.
But I kept on, far into my adulthood
Reading and learning even more.
After all, increasing knowledge
Is what books are really for.
So, I learned about people and
About some exotic foreign lands
And became amazed at what some
Could accomplish with pen in hand.
And reading help me miss out
On some ugly stuff in my history
Because forewarned is forearmed
And reading removes some mystery
If it’s right there in the paperwork
And if we take the time to look.
We can keep ourselves from error
If we read the proper kind of book.
I read a lot about religious quacks
And I compared them to reality.
And then when I met people in life
I wasn’t easily tricked by duplicity.
When people made wild promises
About products and spiritual claims
I pointed to their documentation
And often questioned their aims.
It sometimes made enemies for me
Because our society is fond of lies
If they are only pretty enough
To fool the greediest gals and guys.
But I tired of schoolyard games
Early on in my literary youth.
I reserved my applause and approval
For moral decency and truth.
I had all the ammunition, I would ever need
Because early on in my life
I learned to love to read.
Nov 5, 2015
Nov 5, 2015 at 6:28 PM UTC
You want it
But have no need
You crave it
But you'd rarely feed
Once you're inside
You'll want right out
Then back again
I have no doubt
This game here
Is one I own
No one else
Sits on my throne
I claim calamities
And assume atrocities
All while the quiet
Voice inside hides
May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 at 5:54 PM UTC
The eyes are the greediest of the body.
The legs run to bring the eyes to see new things,
The heart pumps that the eyes may live to see another day.
The eyes, his, and all their organs search for her eyes and serve her constantly.
His hands work to bring music to her ears,
Sweets for her tongue,
All for a twinkle in her eye.
When his eyes saw hers catch the glisten of a tear,
His mind raced for an answer,
His arms drew her closer,
But alas: the tear was for him,
As her mouth told him that her heart was another’s.
And at that Truth,
While his heart dropped,
And his hands fell,
It was only after his eyes had clearly seen her leave,
That they blurred with tears.
Perhaps, the eyes are not the window to the soul, but, rather, the soul itself.
Through his eyes, he had seen all,
And because of what he had seen,
He was who he was.
And when those eyes blurred and crumpled and crumpled as his soul,
His body fell too –
Waiting for the eyes to see something new.
Jan 13, 2018
Jan 13, 2018 at 8:08 PM UTC
In fantasy fallacies
Covetous malice is
Greediest deities'
Vanity palaces
Callous regarding
The weary and meek
The ostensible shepherds
Just wolves among sheep
Counting each of their
Unanswered prayers
Before sleep
Yet despair doesn't seem
To preclude
Pleasant dreams
Nor to render naivity scenes
To demean
What of logic and reason
Should clearly evince
They abandoned us long ago,
Haven't cared since
And their whereabouts
Unbeknownst
Mystery ways
Inexplicable how
They free will us
As slaves
The obsequious miscreant
False prophet faith
Inculcated in cults
Of a non-personality
Spreading its virulent
Indigent malady
Bow and prostrate yourselves
On your knees
Cowardly
Why fear what hasn't appeared
In the flesh
To be real
Why exalt higher powers
Except how you feel
Leaves me reeling,
Unraveling
Traveling
Gone again
Out to let go
And expose
Gods
As frauds of men
May 30, 2019
May 30, 2019 at 1:35 PM UTC
Wow.
(Wow what?)
Just Wow.
Too many times now.
So many snaking paths arching and winding to this very door.
And what're you crying for?
Facing the grandest, vastest yawn,
what can one say but Wow?
And how.
The world gives so little that
eventually even the greediest must
count as his greatest treasure light seen glinting in the specks of dust.
Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 6:25 AM UTC
The ultimate ecstasy
Smart soul, such flirting figure,
Shunning their staunch yet sly lame,
Shielding their stout sin secure,
Stunning snake, flickering flame,
Goddess of the greediest guts,
The ram rears before your ray,
The men moan, and hear their ruts,
They surrender if you say:
''Covet me, corrupted cores''
You tie them to your jetty,
Sending them at your soft shores,
They are caught, clasped and petty.
Your power paralyzes,
Heals from all the illnesses,
As it damns the strongest might,
Wait ,is your womb worth the wright ?
Vile Venus' voice, vulture !
Arcane angel, oracle,
Stop rising the sepulture
Of your victims, fool focal !
Your love has a foul fragrance,
I won't submit to your trance!
Poor, obsolete absolute,
You are now using a flute
On your bounded bared bodies,
Enjoying the energies
Flowing from their feeble blood.
Bathing in this fetish flood :
You are aroused, Addiction,
And as they all are in awe
On them you then pour your woe
Your awful absolution...
Smart soul, such flirting figure,
Shunning their staunch yet sly lame.
Shielding their stout sin secure.
Stunning snake, flickering flame.
Wether a drug, or a well
Of the finest *****
Wether a mirage, a dell
Deadliest equilibrium
You will lurk, and surely lure
In the dark, yes you will mure
Anyone tempted by this
Ecstasy and emphasis.
''Her name is Euphoria''
Her youth an Utopia.''
Thus, supposedly nowhere.
In fact, concealed everywhere!
The grievous allegory
Agape and agony
Faith as well as felony
The ultimate ecstasy.
April 21, 2013
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 11:52 AM UTC
you, my darling,
are the greediest person i know
you take and take
what i give and more
and it still isn't enough
it still wasn't enough
Feb 8, 2017
Feb 8, 2017 at 12:34 PM UTC
He showed up out of nowhere
And everybody fell in love
He felt like a long warm hug
The one you give while parting ways
No one could stop themselves from touching him
Even a slight passing brush of a hand
The smallest of touches
Not a girl nor a boy could stop themselves from smiling at his sight
Every breath he took made them giggle
And all sat down on one bedside
Laying one against another
Living in this presence
Getting along yet feeling a sting of jealousy whenever one got more attention
The greediest impulsively grabbing onto his skin
It was like a feeling of love and lust they never felt
And as it came to an end they felt the purest of joy
Forgotten all about the feelings the second he parted his ways
Like a long lost memory of first love
Jun 9, 2019
Jun 9, 2019 at 12:03 PM UTC