"overtaxed" poems
When the funding is cut
So the hospitals shut
That’s a Tory
When the poverty bites
And you lose human rights
That’s a Tory
Such excess
Better reassess
Better repossess
Better get yourself private healthcare
Overtaxed if you work
Unemployed? Then you're scrounging on welfare
When there’s bigoted views
Blatant lies on the news
That’s a Tory
When the biggest and best
Are too rich to arrest
That’s a Tory
But they’re lax
Covering the cracks
Never paying tax
Claiming everything on expenses
They can steal with a smile
While they peddle their flimsy defences
When they're guilty of fraud
And they're banking abroad
That's a Tory
If they're selling your school
When 'austere' means 'cruel'
That's a Tory
Too much spin
Slogan and a grin
Wearing pretty thin
Bussing people in to applaud them
Any law can be bought
If you're well off enough to afford them
That's all folks and remember, you can't spell Theresa May without heresy
**
Apr 24, 2017
Apr 24, 2017 at 7:04 PM UTC
The Quantum Poetry Theorem
from a long time ago,
a thousand poems a priori.
**Dedicated to you, Albert Einstein and the cast of TBBT, special thanks to the OWS movement.,
But especially to the few, the brave, geeks who write poetry in word and in equations.**
Scruffy, yet ennobled,
my own 99% invade and
occupy all my senses,
in my eyesight encamped
sensing opportunity,
the 99 demand
that each shutter eye snap,
all nominal exhalations,
every quantum minutia perception,
be live streamed,
direct tv to you
Everything I witness,
transformed into an
acoustic guitar rocking vision,
a levitation of poetic expression,
set to a primitive three-chord
rock & roll overture,
and my iPad,
appointed Recording Secretary,
compiles exhalations as ecrivations
a preservation society of the verb,
strings of words emanating non-stop
within my head, from a guitar playing
twenty four seven, ironically,
expressed mathematically
Street strolling,
busy brasserie bar,
a Pinot Noir arrives,
a large pour of
stanzas and a
napkin upon to scribble
mind in ferment but
A Capella smooth cool,
my bossy brain requires
incident reports,
a "write me down, please,"
and
no matter how much I drink,
ain't anti-matter enough to
stop my eyes from seeing
every human interaction
as a poetic, probabilistic,
verbal equation,
quantum expressions of sensory upload
The brain revels and reels from overload,
no mas, no more,
poetry fatigue incurable,
caplets and ointments,
string theory,
can't cure or explain
the compulsion I feel,
and the 1% of me
protests my
overtaxed mental capacity,
and
hear the, see the, masses,
the shouts, the placards,
outside my home,
shut it down, no one cares,
no one wants your transplanted mechanics
in their eardrums
Huzzah, found in my gut,
a Grand Unifying Theory
to coordinate, gauge and harmonize
my internal asymmetries,
yes, a coupling factor required,
but still,
one equation that explains everything!
my fatigued, pointy, index finger
refuses to tap any more,
my Theory of Everything,
and my poetry, forgot, overlooked.
in my library buried,
black holed, forever silence-stored
Sep 8, 2013
Sep 8, 2013 at 3:48 PM UTC
Rebel and unify against the one we hate
Struggle to compose of this brand new fate
Things that don't involve you are good enough for me
Without you our lives would be a cup of tea
-
You're hated, if you were lost, no one would ever cry for you
So many, you've hurt, I bet they'd all feel right the same
Just leave us, you coward, I hope you face a gruesome fate
Believe in, nothing, you're not good enough for life itself
-
You should be hanging from a tree, you liar!
You should be hit by a truck, you coward!
You should be doused in gasoline, you hurt us!
This match will be lit! Your soul will be set aflame!
-
For the first time in your pathetic life
You will experience what you have done
What you have morphed us into, created
Unleash this monster, no pity! No remorse!
Just fate! The death of your darkness!
-
Betrayal! (Betrayal) Every single day!
Your life! (Your life) will end, to your dismay!
No longer! (no longer) will we suffer in agony!
This is! (The end!) Of everything you'll ever do
Of anyone you'll ever hurt again!
Aug 23, 2013
Aug 23, 2013 at 2:09 PM UTC
By Wednesday
I’m ready to
unhook
unhinge
unfold.
Peel this pale skin
right off these overtaxed bones
& let my soul sip
on all of the thoughts
I scolded myself
for thinking
while I walked
across the company parking lot.
I’m sure she would tell you
that those sipped thoughts—
they taste like slow jazz.
They envelop the tongue
without permission
& casually uncoil into
all of the beautiful,
tasteless language
that is able to seamlessly
twist and bewitch.
I’m sure she would tell you
that anything
worth a sip
is forbidden,
as she cups her palms
& presses them to your lips.
“Have a drink,” she’ll say,
“You need some color
in those cheeks.”
Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 11:37 AM UTC
For years the burdens had built up,
on rods and brace and wood,
as Mother purchased suits and shoes
for each sale seemed so good.
Her credit cards were overtaxed,
(But she loved those rewards),
So of Course Black Friday found her shopping,
adding to her hoard.
Her selves were packed with memories;
sales too good to ignore.
I heard her scream
As everything
Came crashing to the floor.
Her injuries were minor
For this I thank the Lord
But replacement closets aren't cheap-
My wallet will be gored.
I wish she would discard some stuff
She hasn't worn in years.
I fear I lack the fortitude
To dry so many tears..
She’s been a faithful friend it’s true
I love her for the world,
It just takes some getting used to-
living with a material girl.
Published December 01, 2013
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 9:03 PM UTC
I carve myself out of a cardboard cutout,
I wish I wasn't empty,
stuck between two worlds that do not want me.
I am like the globe,
shattered.
Rushing blood gurgles through my veins to my head, my
words sound like Russian out my hot mouth
"so spicy"
they say it cause I'm foreign to them.
My blood pressure rises,
makes
the tea kettle screams,
on the perfect pictured home oven,
i am fuming.
I look out at the white picket fence,
raised oppressed gates,
overtaxed, overcharged, overfed, rising still.
The fury builds inside me,
I stomp the fence,
break the oven,
crash the globe,
and weep at the crap I was made out of.
we will never win.
but, it doesn't matter if we're the minority or majority,
the darker you are,
the faster you talk,
the farther away from the home land
...
they'll still give you the gun.
But, they'll blame you for everything that happens after.
Oct 16, 2018
Oct 16, 2018 at 3:45 PM UTC
They just invented a reason
For all the things we do
From burping out in the public square
To keeping animals locked in the zoo
So now there's no need to question why
Aloha means hello and goodbye
Or they say keep your head when we lose our minds
Because now there is a good reason why
For when we sneeze and say achoo
All in the crowd exclaim bless you
The invented reason gives a clue
For everything that we now do
Like with two wheels it's called a bike
One a unicycle, three wheels a trike
The reason now is easy to find
Without overtaxing the overtaxed mind
But there's one reason eluding me
In all my years of reasoning
What took so long with this invention
And was there a good reason for the time it's been missing
May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 8:29 AM UTC
Misery came to my deathbed today
changing the sheets by routine
with emphatic blue eyes
she said
"get on by"
and stroke my hair gently
while emptying the bin
Through my plastic esophagus
I gargled a moan
to remind her the ***** is full
But I wanted to shout at her
"leave me alone!"
as her sight only made me recall
who I was years before
what is left of me now
and what future above my head hover
Full of putrid decay
loss of bladder control
with an Iron lung as a lover
I gritted my teeth and I broke
my best smile
which came out as an overtaxed grin
If I make her rejoice
then miss Misery might
unplug that infernal machine
Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 7:55 AM UTC
I let the heater broil my skin.
29 degrees short of a blistering lobster boil
Turning my cheeks two shades less than crimson
Just so I can keep my weary red eyes alert.
Cause even though the night sky may relax
My raggedly overtaxed mind,
Exhaustion still ruins evening’s solitary stillness.
The stiller I sit
The more I wish to slip
Into dreams of yesterday
Dipping into deep and destructive waters of nostalgia
Scabbing over my itchy scratch and sniff pain
With highlight clips and theme songs
From my old favorite tv shows
Wanting to wash away today's pain
With chocolate covered strawberries
Till I restore my belief in the brotherhood
Of faith and purpose
That reason and enlightenment murdered
Mind running engine running
Vents pumping out dragon’s breathe
But the heat does not hurt
The carbon monoxide might suffocate me
But the fire does not burn
Memories keep strangling me
Till I can barely breathe
And the only thing I can inhale is regret
The only truths I know
Are the sorrows I have not felt yet
20 minutes to warm my flesh
To think and scribe the thoughts that others hide
20 minutes then I switch the heat too cold
Crack the windows and my bones
No longer stuck in the past
No longer struggling to come back
I exist in the now
Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 11:50 AM UTC
My city on the sea
Falling from the cliff
Crumbling from the fall
Of a non-existent cliff
just analogy
Creating a scene
of constant chaos
Leaving a women
walk the streets
Making the whole city
As herself
A **********
Abused and dissected
Pulled apart by color
Then manipulated
by some
Creating a child by
lust of other people
Bamboozling with presentations
Watched by lawyers
Given and controlled
by a narrative of sectionality
Hidden in a Trojan Horse
Dividing to conquer
Leaving the public
in a blinded desperation
Letting politicians
Rubber stamp the desires
of bloodsuckers
Branded in stone
To let the child grow
into refined women
Well spoken
Strong and in command
Leaving the weak and poor
In a corner
with the overtaxed and extorted
Only to leave
To let in the new
She continues to move forward
with her deportations
Picking from all
Excluding others
Creating a new diversity
To create new wealth
Only to be left
as her mother
the prostitute
Just to change the face
of a entire city
Unrecognizable to the deported
who carry the infection
Incurable from the city’s
distant past
May 18, 2021
May 18, 2021 at 1:53 PM UTC