"livelihoods" poems
I feel the warmth of the sun on my skin,
Every time I leave home,
I feel the gentle breeze caressing my hair,
Each time I leave for work,
Yet, the distant morning don’t feel the same anymore,
For things are no longer the way they used to be.
Family & friends are no longer faces I see every day,
Neighbours are no longer people I meet & greet,
And colleagues have now become occasional struggles,
What’s more?
The outbreak has truly destroyed our livelihoods,
Leaving us with nothing but hope.
Hope for all of this to end,
Hope for a miracle in these unsolicited times,
While we push ourselves to the core,
To stay alive in this uproar.
Jan 29, 2021
Jan 29, 2021 at 4:19 PM UTC
"A patient man bides his time,"
Theodore tells the man in the mirror
Tomorrow, all the levees will break
And all the fables will be told
Of distant Decembers and forgotten fathers
Livelihoods will be threatened
And remorse will fall by the wayside
He watches as icicles on the awning
Melt away into puddles on the ground
"Warmer every day," he thinks to himself
He hangs up his scarf and overcoat
The way a simple man, with complex demons, is wont to do
And as his wants devolve into needs
And as all his anchors deteriorate to rust
Her smile unnerves a once-settled man
To think of the quality of glove necessary
To hold onto the wagon in this day and age
So Theodore pulls the door to,
Leaving Chopin's "Horseman" to gallop in peace
And in pieces
He watches her from across the courtyard
"Such sweet bliss in her footsteps," he sighs
And it seems to him as if the snow dissipates
Just from the warmth in her steady gait
Just from the radiation behind her brown eyes
He slides open the dresser drawer
A haven for scattered trinkets, odds, and ends
A place of respite for the weary souvenir
There, amidst all the corroded memories
Lies a corroded pistol, unspoken and unburnished
"And a lonely man drinks his wine,"
Theodore says, as intrepidly as he is capable
For there is a time when fathers stop teaching
A time when mothers stop singing
And a place where the sins stop searching
A last breath is deeply inhaled
But never again will find its escape
With a thud that echoes to Seymour Street
Theodore crumples to the cold wooden floor,
A simple man, finally free of complex demons
Jan 25, 2023
Jan 25, 2023 at 1:19 PM UTC
the curling smoke
from warming fires
rise into the slate
gray sky of the
Beqaa Valley
sheaves of
rising prayers
expire in twisted plumes
dissipating into the
gloom of an ever
looming winter
overcast
refugees from
the Arab Spring's
uncivil wars
gather for warmth
around waning embers,
smoldering in the underbelly
of the lowliest bottom of rusted
steel drums, tended
with scavenged debris
some thought better
suited to fortify the
faltering hovels of
last resort
the fires
join us in
communal rings
straining the
tenuous links of
brotherhood, the
politics of men
assiduously tear
asunder
we count ourselves
among the fortunate,
blessed exiles recused
from the acrimony
of desecrated cities,
welcoming the
residencies of
bewailing lullabies
of colic infants, the
searing hunger of
stunted children and the
incomprehensible babble
the elderly eloquently
speak in tongues
of a desperate
exasperation
our nagging impotence
swaddle us in ambivalent
inabilities to master circumstances
profanely denigrating our humanity
privation is
our daily bread
the bitter manna
feasting on the
animosity the banquet
of rancor generously
prepares for
peace starved
pilgrims
in these
refugee camps
the cold cuts deeper
hunger pangs
grow sharper
our blighted dignity,
vanished livelihoods,
and the presence of
recently interred
loved ones trudge
through our mean
encampment as
fully enfranchised
citizens in our
distressed
kingdom
what was lost can
never be recovered
our homeland leveled
yet doors still stand open
silently pleading all
to cross a new
threshold
the full restoration
of our hope,
the reconstitution
of our flagging
humanity, the
spark of the
holy spirit
willfully uniting us
in the salvation
of reconciliation
is nigh
we are
the divine children
stoking the embers
tending the fire
that light pathways
through the cold
darkness of a
broken world
Oh come
Emmanuel,
dwell among us
Oh come
Emmanuel
ransom once
again the
poor captives
of Israel….
Selah
Music Selection:
L'Accorche-Choeur, Ensemble vocal Fribourg
Veni Veni Emmanuel
Everywhere
Christmas
2013
jbm
Dec 24, 2013
Dec 24, 2013 at 10:48 AM UTC
Quiet flows the Brahmaputra
But violent and angry at times
At the ruthless manner in which
The man destroys the nature...
Quiet flows the Brahmaputra
But angry and turbid below
At the greed and arrogant manner in which
They carry out "development"
Quiet flows the Brahmaputra
But sad and lost
at the poor lives and livelihoods lost
At the hands of the rich who creates the catastrophes
Quiet flows the Brahmaputra
But helpless and depressed
At the ignorance and stubborn attitude
Of the people who aren't willing to learn from their mistakes.
Quiet flows the Brahmaputra
Sometimes overflowing and destructive
Time and again, to teach the humanity a lesson
In not learning from the past, learning from their mistakes
Because, history repeats itself..
And we are suffering today at the hands of the
People who are not creating a welfare state
But extracting, extorting, exploiting the commons
And the common people
To the benefit of a few, arrogant, "smart" rich...
There is something wrong somewhere..
Unless we learn ...
Unless we change...
We get what we deserve...
So if we need a change..
Let's change first ourselves..
Our action, Our decisions, Our choices...
There is nobody to blame..but ourselves...
It is not enough we give our choices
Once in five years ...
And then blame everybody else
For what we get out of our choice...
Quiet flows the Brahmaputra
He is a teacher, a friend, a father (and a mother)..
A brother, and a God (if there is one)...
Let us learn from him, the nature...
Quiet flows the Brahmaputra
So magnificent and great..
Angry at times..Destructive at times...
Still the lifeline of the people
Quiet flows the Brahmaputra.
Jun 1, 2018
Jun 1, 2018 at 12:08 AM UTC
Ya Know Peoples’ Behaviour’s...
Getting... Stranger And STRANGER... !!!
NO... Away In A Manger... !!!
But PLENTY of DANGER... !!!
In... Peoples Behaviour... !!!
Because Corona’s Brought Flavours...
When It Comes To THAT PAPER... !!!
That Are A... GAME CHANGER... !!!
So Some Peoples Behaviour’s...
Beginning To Tailor...
Itself Towards... Vader’s... !!!
Because of DICTATORS...
Who Have Now Endangered... !!!
MORE THAN... Livelihoods...
Now Lives Have Been Took...
That’s EVEN SHOOK CROOKS... !!!
So Behaviours Now Look...
Like They’re Ready To Cook...
MUCH MORE Than PROTESTS...
When Leaders Send Feds’...
To Now Fire BULLETS... !!!
At WOMEN On Front Lines...
Who Now STAND AGAINST...
Racism And Violence...
That Lead To Black Deaths... !!!
By... Taking of Breaths...
By Some YES Policemen... !!!
They’re Behaviours ATTEST...
To Delivering STRESS...
To Lots of Blacks HEADS... !!!
So OF COURSE Some Are VEX... !!!!!
About Treatment We Get... !!!
But... Protest Behaviour...
Has Got... INSTIGATORS...
Who May Be IMITATORS... ?!?
And... CONTAMINATORS...
Used To Be MUTILATORS... !!!
of Behaviours Now Caused...
By BLATANTLY FLAGRANT...
ABUSE of THEIR Laws... !?!
Hold Up... Let Me PAUSE......................
Did I Just Call Them... " LAWS "... ?
What Do They Stand For... ?!?
Cos They’re CLEARLY NOT Made...
To Now PROTECT The Hoards … ?
I Mean... MASSES of People...
Who Seem READY For WAR... !?!
In... Different Locations...
It Seems That Behaviours...
Are Now Fighting For...
MORE Than Freedom of Thought... !!!
IT’s... FREEDOM To TALK...
That’s Now Being Cut SHORT... !?!
When Clearly Behaviours...
Should OPEN UP MORE Than EVER BEFORE... !!!
But THESE MANIPULATORS...
Have Their Perpetrators...
of Behaviours That Walk...
With Talk That Is FALSE... !!!
From These CORONA Wars...
To These CLOSED Corridors...
Where Decisions Are BOUGHT !
I Dunno Anymore... ?!?
If We’ll Ever ENFORCE...
Behaviours Like Jailers...
For Traitors Who Break Laws... !!!
ESPECIALLY When...
They Are Leaders And Lords !!!
Instead of Behaviours...
That... DESTROY The Poor... !!!
We NEED CASTIGATORS...
And... Coordinators...
Whose Behaviours Are PURE... !!!
Instead of These FAKERS...
And... New Age ENSLAVERS... !!!
Who Drive These Creations...
of Thoughts That I TAILOR...
To Speak On These Subjects...
Like Peoples’...
.... “BEHAVIOUR”....
Nov 27, 2020
Nov 27, 2020 at 2:18 AM UTC
This dot kami’s ‘Nam when I see you’re all neutral
To futile lords still passin’ Acts of Removal
Pretentious performers as if upon stages
Of casting call characters caught up in cages
Like ****** who off-shore **** the poor on vacations
I’m diggin’ up dirt on the founders’ plantations
When bail-outs are ballots and bullets are mallets
Why not be a rabbit hole in Hefner’s palace?
And dare call it talent, a gift or a passion
Just model behavior for slaves to a fashion
Show running the breadlines when crimes are a dime
In the dozens of ***** Weinsteins on your minds
Instead of the felons when court is in Sessions
Instead of the under-oath treason confessions
In rapid succession they feed you the buzz
Until nobody cares what the debt ceiling was
When the roof has been raised for the privatize party
The right wants us dead and the left shows up tardy
I’m sorry “you people” are making me sick
Guess I’ll just pop a pill from the cabinet pick
Like has-been Michael Flynn’s and these Ex-Tillersons
Resource hogs cloggin’ bogs up with smogs of odd jobs
They’re the slEASIEST Slytherins still seemin’ Jesus
Pro-life until *** aid is the fetus
Egregious excesses of who the **** needs this
Huge 2nd place trophy wife ivory tower
Big guns for a stickless diplomacy coward
Here’s my golden shower tricklin’ down your faces
You blatantly ****** repeal and replacists
You war-profiteering, grand **** of old Racists and fakers, uranium cacres
Still stuffing the stockings of doomsday clock-makers
With melting North Pole lumps of coal-hearted cash
‘Till every last Christmas trees nothing but ash
As the fascist machine builds its pyramid scheme
On the dreams of the themes of your Disney World screen
But the credits will roll as the talking heads stroll in
The shoe bombs of Terrorist’s livelihoods stolen
But I leave ‘em spinnin’ like Christopher Nolan
Dec 4, 2017
Dec 4, 2017 at 2:27 PM UTC
Oh Dear River
How many faces do you have?
The pleasant calm face
With the undulating waves
The happy face
with the life thriving inside you?
The playful face with the Kids
Swimming in the river?
The vibrant face
During the downpour?
The kind face
Blessing the dark thin fishermen?
Or
The sad face
With the dark effluents let in to you
By the greedy industries?
Or the pale face
With your inflows being reduced
due to the catchments
being encroached
by the real estate mafia?
Or the angry face
With the ***** politicians and thieves
Who plunder your sand
And destroy not only you
But the livelihoods
of the poor farmers and
the water resources of the people?
Oh Dear River
How many faces do you have?
Don't be angry with us humans
because we don't care for anybody
We live only today
and we don't care for tomorrow
nor do we care about
our children of tomorrow.
We are the only inhuman species
On this earth and we wrongly
Call ourselves
As Humane beings..
Jul 16, 2015
Jul 16, 2015 at 9:41 AM UTC
Lives shattered from ignorance.
People struck by intolerance.
Livelihoods are judged from love,
and lives are taken by hate.
A love bathed in terror
is not a love we crave.
A love brought from kindness
was brought down by violence
Love slain by arms and a hatred.
A cry for humanity, a cry of sorrow.
It's our reach for freedom,
and we'll never back down.
For a battle not fought,
is a war never won.
Jun 12, 2016
Jun 12, 2016 at 1:53 PM UTC
Everyone knows what my name is
In this little **** town
And I'd really like to give them
More to talk about
The drop outs
The tattoos
The break-ups
And the people-making-excuses-for-me-just-because-my-mom-died
Will never be enough
Gossip
So here goes
Every barn from Freeburg to Smithton
Up in smoke
No more kindling left to burn
In the middle of the night
And here goes
Every corn field
All the sorghum
All the wheat mowed
Cut down before its prime
Grain-based livelihoods
Grain-based lives
Gone.
And here's to all the old-timers
With their shot guns out
Sitting on the porch
Here's to all the life savings
All the small town banks
I'm about to knock down
Here's to cops who are
Terrible shots
And here's to getting out
Freeburg Famous
My name on everybody's lips
Giving the lifers
Something real to talk about
Apr 15, 2013
Apr 15, 2013 at 8:52 AM UTC
I was once called
A communist, a fascist and an anarchist
All in one sentence
Which I thought was quite impressive
And this was because I was a union man
My fellow workers elected me to represent them
In our dealings with management
I was involved in negotiations
About the application of regulations
And other tedious vexations
And on rare occasions
I led disputes and even strikes
And, over the years
I helped to save many jobs
Not numbers
But peoples' livelihoods
Some will say I was a rabble-rouser
An agitator
Some can say as they like
All I ever did
Was stand up for the underdog
And I hope I always will
By Phil Roberts
Oct 15, 2016
Oct 15, 2016 at 5:22 AM UTC
no more rush for the factory gates
or bleary welcomes after whistle led race
no longer the shouts of “what shift you on mate?”
and befuddled replies “earlies, no, lates!”
the comforting throng of familial mass
at the end of each day that held no disgrace
when a days hard work meant a days earned pay
something they somehow forgot to replace
as our livelihoods fled to cheaper climes
and our citadels of labour fell rotting, debased
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 1:57 PM UTC
working for others
makes one poor..
special identity denied
one's voice deeply hidden
inner beauty suppressed..
livelihoods are exile
protections are dear
yet servitude keeps rule..
a new time
demands correction
straightening posture
a new discovery..
each of us stands
as connector
of many and one
one's voice found at last
exile ended
though we.. remain
here...
Sep 1, 2012
Sep 1, 2012 at 10:52 PM UTC
the love and romance.
the years lit by artillery.
the wars.
the men did these wild things. these great grand expressions of love and survival.
they’d damage themselves, bleed while moving furniture.
wood splinters better painted red wet warmth.
they’d notch together plum-cut bricks into
crenulations or walls or cathedrals.
home built.
the women: of an ancient woven fiber
and/or old energy, they’d battle serpents into dark and drunk loneliness.
she conspired for a happy life.
death by the meadow.
old woman remembering young woman and
young man,
now old man approaching.
the world forgets, but we will always have eachother.
remember us youths in proto-revolution.
we didn’t believe in what we did.
we lived a lie.
all america.
dreaming and soap opera.
daytime television blastulas.
the wars are fought early, and fierce.
the wars are won and lost on highschool dancefloors.
highschool blacktops. blackboards. breathy
kissing.
spectral codes of light.
and we bloom outward into livelihoods and
incomes.
timelines.
trenches to crawl from shell-shocked and screaming ****** ******
or not.
but yes -
the world is built on blisters and scar tissue.
nothing is untouched.
nothing is unwounded.
Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 3:50 AM UTC
Standing silent, solid, firm, it's job is still not known
And as we stare back from below, our strength has only grown
It will not break me, beat me down, It will not make me bend
I do not care what it looks like or what message that it sends
It cannot hurt me, it makes me think, just what would this thing feel?
If it knew it's purpose, why it's here, would it? if it were real
It's just a symbol, nothing more, it not the thing I hate
It's there because the ownership won't sit down and debate
It represents their feelings and what they think of me
But I can stand beside it and I know my thoughts are free
I stand and wonder what most think when they drive by and look
And think about the extra time and costs that this thing took
It just stares down and it looks at us, it doesn't say a word
It doesn't listen to our chants, we know that they're not heard
It keeps us out from where we work and want to spend our time
It looks at us without a sound just like a metal mime
It has two sides, one in one out, it won't let us inside
We'd rather that it disappear, we've talked and god, we've tried
I feel that it will not come down until the final day
When our jobs, our souls, our livelihoods are in The USA
It's power stretches miles and it doesn't make much sense
This thing that separates our worlds is only just a fence.
May 26, 2012
May 26, 2012 at 6:58 PM UTC
I was once called
A communist, a fascist and an anarchist
All in one sentence
Which I thought was quite impressive
And this was because I was a union man
My fellow workers elected me to represent them
In our dealings with management
I was involved in negotiations
About the application of regulations
And other tedious vexations
And on rare occasions
I led disputes and even strikes
And, over the years
I helped to save many jobs
Not numbers
But peoples' livelihoods
Some will say I was a rabble-rouser
An agitator
Some can say as they like
All I ever did
Was stand up for the underdog
And I hope I always will
By Phil Roberts
Feb 8, 2016
Feb 8, 2016 at 9:36 AM UTC
freedom of movement
fighting for its rights
out in the air; fists flying
arms wailing
spinning around kicking
just for the sake of movement.
that one element
stuck out more in anything
as it occupied the space it needed
as the spaceman heeded
sang us songs; as the lights speed about.
birthed out of an era
torn by so much
artistically and musically;
livelihoods drastically
changing as considering creatively
that this was how
you would dance to david bowie.
May 4, 2013
May 4, 2013 at 12:39 AM UTC
Contrary to popular belief,
we have found WMDs in Iraq,
whose Tigris and Euphrates rivers
once flowed into the Garden of Eden.
But true to popular belief,
these WMDs were not weapons
of mass destruction, in the usual
meaning of that phrase,
They turned out to be wars
of mutual destruction, fueled
by fear and anger against
the most vulnerable within our reach
It matters not that good
intentions guided bombs
and tanks to destroy the
land and lives of innocents
To a man who buried his
family in the smoking ashes
of his ancestral home, or that
vengeful reprisals have no
Other cause, to a mother who
sheds tears upon her favorite
photo of her dead son, whose
body has come home
But whose blood was spilled
into the Tigris and Euphrates
And it matters not
that treasures spent
in futile efforts to fix
what through unfounded
Belief was broken,
by laying siege to
vanquished tribes
to form a nation
Foreign to their own.
And though livelihoods
and communities have
been drained of hope
And promise at home,
there is no end in sight
for wars still fueled by
fear and anger against
The most vulnerable
within our reach.
Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 12:25 PM UTC
THE DILEMMA OF A GENERATION
Mohamed Bouazizi
Represents not just the struggle in Tunisia
But of an entire generation –
His life was a consolidation
Of a series of injustices
Of economic apartheid.
After all, let us not hide
And call this tragedy what it really is.
Mohamed’s life and death
Was one of many terrible examples
Of the depth, the breadth
Of the gap between the rich and the poor.
If you think to yourself,
“I’ll never be that desperate,”
Think again;
You are fortunate
If you’ve never worked and worked until your fingers chafed raw
Yet it was not enough.
You are sheltered
If you’ve never experienced
The yoke of the owners of the world.
You are blind
If you do not see that we have ‘freedom’
That is built on top of mass graveyards.
This yoke
Has served to choke
Not just Tunisians,
But everyone who was not born with wealth
Or the opportunity to make it;
The millennial’s dilemma
Is common across the globe –
Do I lose hope?
Do I succumb
To a life of fast money and being numb?
Do I stop caring, focus instead on the life I can enjoy?
Do I ignore the stolen livelihoods, hushed, covered up and coy
Do I fail to think about the exploited labour
Of suffering human beings,
Of the ****** of my country’s neighbour?
Do I simply sidestep my knowledge of all of this?
Complacent, lacking the will
Unaware, perhaps lacking development of the skill
To realise that our world is dying
Not a slow natural demise
But of humanity-induced suicide.
Or do I, instead,
Pull up my sleeves, avenge the dead?
Do I sacrifice my well-being,
My opportunity to reach that thin demographic of the population
That fragment of the nation
Which lives a life of luxury,
In order to change the world around me?
Do I go against the swirling, swishing current of life
Give up all opportunity for power, leave this society that is rife
With abuse?
For if I don’t,
The sick world we were born in
Will perpetuate its unholy cycle of sin
I will be an instrument of that process,
Whether through complacency or an excess
Of loyalty towards the state.
If I don’t fight back,
If we don’t fight back,
Who will?
Our stillborn children?
The posterity that will be born
To a world that has no clean air,
A world that is built to be unfair
A world that separates people like an algorithm
Those above a certain monetary threshold
And those below it?
No.
It must be the millennial who fights for rights,
Before they are sold off completely and stocks run out,
Before men and women in power with infallible clout
Turn us all against each other
And make us destroy ourselves.
Apr 12, 2018
Apr 12, 2018 at 2:38 AM UTC
We come from different worlds
Different parts of the map
Two different livelihoods
Two different paths
Two separate childhoods
Two types of families
One; grown up too fast
One so naïve
Both playing games online
In two different places
Fate pushes introvert and opposite
To two smiling faces
One avoids mistakes
From one big one to two
One just trying to take a guess
What the other just might do
One runs away
With a tank full of gas
One sits at home
Hoping the pain will pass
Two different hearts
Tell two what to do
Both do not understand
What the other's been through
One in recovery
One drives all night
One is so confident
The other is in fright
Two different people
From two different places
Lock arms for the first time
And stare into faces
These two different hearts
Began to beat as one
Through hiccups and heartaches
These hearts produce a son
Now two families merge
Two become stronger than the sum
I'll hold you both forever, Love
This story's just begun
Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 10:33 AM UTC
Death.. A lesson you spend your life studying for with a guarantee you're going to pass.. Pass away..
Hello, Death? It's me, one of your victims..
Death, let me address you for a moment....
Death, you speak languages that you only understand, but our minds try to console our hearts by giving motive for you... We spend days, nights making excuses for you...
One day you speak suicide.. Half way through your sentence you speak ****** ****** you corrupt a mind to do your ***** work.. Not that would be any cleaner if you did it...
Death, you hide beneath coffins, you run behind bullets and you color the suicide note with tears...
Death, I don't get you.. You don't only steal a life... But you steal our livelihoods as well.. Isn't life enough..? Why do you come back and take tears from our eyes, put memories in our minds so we never forget your act of dismissal..
Death, you're a thief and we all condone your crimes with a church service.. We send one off to a place beyond the sky.. A place far from here... But still, that never seems to be enough..
You feast on lives like it's a buffet.. You get served with a plate full of life, and you're a fool of life cause you keep taking it away from us, as if our plates aren't full of problems..
Death, you coward.. You only look us in the eyes when our time comes.. Where were you when you sent us a warning? Funny, I opened that letter and it only had half your signature on... When I looked over to show my brother the letter, there you were running behind that bullet.... As the bullet pierced his skin, you pierced his soul with your sword of damnation.. You never killed him.. You killed us... Cause that's what he was doing when you ran behind that bullet.. He was standing up for us.. For me...
Gone, never forgotten..
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 11:02 PM UTC
History is such an integral subject
One if learnt from can change lives
It makes people realise; violence isn't the answer
It makes people think; of alternate solutions
Coming to the conclusion that
Peace, integrity and unity
Is the only way us humans can thrive.
We must learn from the past
After all mistakes are made to be a lesson
If this is done so
Many lives and livelihoods can be saved
Alas however the irony of our past is
We must watch, agonisingly , as history
Continues to repeat itself.
Aug 18, 2015
Aug 18, 2015 at 3:21 PM UTC
humanity will survive only if we are rooted closely to the earth
unbridled technology will lead to our demise
our tools come from nature but we cannot let our tools poison the soil
the neon screen that you are reading
like the pages of man’s great canon of books
grow from the ground
precious conductive earth metals
more valuable than gold mines
when those are gone
no more text messages or Twitter
no more blogging or wind turbines
we will return to primitive communication
land lines, letters and talking
i wonder how our grand kids will make the transition
from rare earth metals and petroleum
to whatever is next
will they discover a revolutionary pearl of knowledge
that we cannot yet imagine
or will they relearn forgotten technologies
and replant in their ancestors’ livelihoods
or will we leave the land sapped and useless
humanity will survive only if we are rooted closely to the earth
we grow from the ground
shine from the sun
blow in the wind
flow in the water
originally posted to my blog https://sublimeobscenities.wordpress.com on 5/2/2014
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 2:04 PM UTC