"privatized" poems
She's like a drama queen,
Plays the 'blame game' like a loser,
Fair minded as a bigot,
Wages war like drones,
As free as surveillance,
As open as privatized prisons,
As equal as feudalism,
As rich as the beggar masses,
Bankrupt as homeowners,
Socialist as the military,
Truthful, trustful as "NEWS," as propaganda,
Pagan as the manufactured Goddess 'Columbia,'
Christian as the stingy,
Pious as a sinner,
Wicked as securities, exchanges on 'Wall Street,'
Insecure as an empire,
Greedy as a fast food glutton,
As brave as a fool,
Warmongering as a chicken hawk politician,
Machevellian as a coward,
As rigged as the free market,
As selfish as Capitalism,
As tolerant as Islam,
Beautiful as a clear cut forest,
Charming as a strip mall,
Forward thinking as chaos,
Lawless as congress,
United as a belligerent crowd,
Compassionate as a swat team,
Green as any petrochemical company,
Organic as pollution,
Deep as a strip mine . . .
. . .
Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 7:53 PM UTC
Part II of "Got 0 Followers"
aim high
to keep
it low
expectations
such an
Awesome Awful
curse
others infect
you with
don't, yada yada,
ya wanna be like
Tom, **** and Jane,
even Harry, a transgendered
friend and fellow (ha) outcast,
all with a good job
prospects of a
goodly tented long life?
so ya write poems
to nobody
about nothing and
you are pleased
to be pleasing just yourself
in writing you have
nothing to prove,
so read them
like keepsakes
ya like,
keep 'em & me hid,
in the shoebox
under the closeted
pile of ***** clothes,
special designer outfits concocted
so they keep my remains,
privatized and unsanitized,
my equity,
hidden,
disguised as disgusting
but for god-sakes
don't follow me,
unless
you want to curse us
both with
Expectations of Expectations,
then comes with
illiteracy of
Affection
then the literary
pre-tension
that always follows,
leading to
Affectation,
the first derivative of the infection of affection
yeah,
then comes
caring
and it instantly it's too late,
you're *******
right up the mental heine,
lost condemned
ruined annihilated
crushed subverted
crushed into
mental death camp suffocation of more, please ma,
can I have some more?
crap, why did you have to go and follow me?
Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 8:14 PM UTC
*The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will be live-*
The revelation will be streaming through your Windows
laptops and smartphones.
The revolution will be blogged
Tweeted, liked, shared, RE-blogged RE-tweeted
and Stumbled Upon in between
midnight ************ sessions
sandwiched between funny cat memes.
The resolution will be HD.
It's evolution will be high speed.
The whistles will be blown at with frequency.
The revolution will be commented on;
Scrutinized.
Vandalized.
Scandalized.
Stylized and advertized.
People will pay attention -
People will forget to mention
that some stand up, occupy, riot
and die.
The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution be streaming live
through the filter of your choice.
The facts will be democratized.
The democracy will be corporatized.
The corporations will personified.
People, objectified -
Spied on and villainized
The powers that be will will lie, deny, and try to justify.
The people will be disenfranchised.
Prisons will be privatized.
Death drones will be utilized.
No one will bat an eye.
Because revolution will be multiplied, over-simplified,
The violence, normalized.
Lives, sacrificed
to satiate the Golden Calf's appetite.
The revolution will not be televised
but Jerry Springer will...
Go figure.
Jun 30, 2013
Jun 30, 2013 at 12:45 AM UTC
Shoot me, You might as well, cause I'm a threat
A threat to your system, a threat to your net
profit and status quo, so pick up that gun shoot me and pray to the ground I go, and when you bury me you better call me a madman and pray that the martyrs don't grow
You may as well shoot me Mr.Police officer,
It may put your employers at ease
One bless black man with a heart of power
One less antibiotic to your disease
Don't forget to tell me I'm resisting, don't forget to tase me til I fall
Don't forget to choke me so those listening won't hear my struggles, my calls
Don't forget to have the media depict me as a **** and a criminal and a menace to society
Don't forget to reprimand and berate me
Remind your older white listeners that my kind, my skin color
is still not considered American Propriety
But more like American property, disposable goods
So **** me, the cameras are recording but don't worry you'll get off free
Might be just a conviction but your Massa's new henchmen and ***** still got the key
A couple months paid administrative leave so you can sit on a beach, drink some ice tea
Mad that you can no longer put chains on our wrists so you put handcuffs instead
No longer pulling whips across our backs so you bury hot burning lead
No longer working your fields for all to see but instead privatized free prison labor with your warden holding the key.
Martin told me when he us that he had a dream
I got his same DNA in my bloodstream
And in every cell in my body I feel the effect, I teem
I boil I scream, when I see a black mother or father gunned down by police men and the children witnessing the death, the blood, the stream.....
I scheme, and when I sleep, I dream
And when I dream it's bad news for you
to avenge those we lost by crimes, undue
To put a stop to all of you.
Jun 14, 2017
Jun 14, 2017 at 9:13 PM UTC
**Collaboration with
Arcassin B
SS**
There's someone
On Capitol Hill
There amongst the
***** and swill
Got your number
On a bill
They've SOLD OUT
For a thrill
Every vice
Martinis chilled
You are just
View to a ****
Someone up there
Privatized
Someone up there
Just said "Aye"
Someone up there
Told some lies
Someone up there
Has some eyes
Someone up there
In the skies
Someone up there
Wants to pry
Someone up there
Makes you cry
Someone up there
Makes you die..
AB
While the toetag still
Keeps you alive,
All the unfairness
Becomes deprived,
Exposed and identified,
What's the Pentagon up to,
They about to have
New nation full of immigrants,
What are you gonna do,
Plotting the demise,
Subliminals in your eyes,
You wonder how the people
Broke off pride,
Someone up there
Demoralized
Someone up there
In disguise
Someone up there
Serve without pay
Someone up there
Love one's die
Someone up there
Don't act surprised
Someone up there
No time to be shy
Someone up there
Don't want this life.
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 1:42 AM UTC
This country's being privatized
By politicians using private eyes
Manipulating through public lies
And their hate filled cries
The question becomes a stark why
We ask the dark unwise
Driving us to laced dimes
Or writing ****** rhymes
Love is the answer I surmise
Nobody else buys
Emotions have no value in the marketplace
Unless you're of a certain race
That reminds them of themself
Then they're more likely to share their wealth
We need more than paper *****
To tear down these paper walls
The order becomes too tall
When we apply an objective concept (currency)
To a subjective principle (value)
Our ideas of value get tangled
Our empathy is mangled
Our discourse becomes angled
Discussions turn to wrangles
And cats are bred Bengal
As our domestic lives
Never left the jungle
But there's always a rumble
Regimes always tumble
Humanity continues to stumble
Earth's health starts to fumble
Molesting the planet like a creepy uncle
Until we see our follies unfold
Then will we be so bold
To say we can do it on our own?
Jul 9, 2017
Jul 9, 2017 at 11:28 PM UTC
The plantations have been privatized
The cotton fields paved with concrete
They still exist
Despite how much you resist
Needing working bee's
They persist
And insist you enlist
From the stone like mass
Sky scrappers are erected
At the tiptop, a **** head runs the show
He tells all the little white men
Who work beneath him
What to do and were to go
You're too tired to even think
But you have to work
If you want to eat
From cotton
To poppy
From slaves in shackles
To droids with imperceptible chains
Leading and whipping the pack,
NASDAQ reigns
Grinning like a fool
All complacently cozy cuddling your coins
In an ornamented box
Where your view of the stars is blocked
Politicking away with a bottle scars of yesterday
Telling yourself "Everything will be okay,
It has been this far."
All the while Uncle Sam blows freedom smoke
Up your *** with his federal cigar
Buy, consume, sell
Get drunk, stay distracted, inhale
Imbibe thoughts instead of ale
You could read a book for fun now,
Or to cure boredom in jail
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 1:05 PM UTC
She's like a drama queen,
Plays the 'blame game' like a loser,
Fair minded as a bigot,
Wages war like drones,
As free as surveillance,
As open as privatized prisons,
As equal as feudalism,
As rich as the beggar masses,
Bankrupt as homeowners,
Socialist as the military,
Truthful, trustful as "NEWS," as propaganda,
Pagan as the manufactured Goddess 'Columbia,'
Christian as the stingy,
Pious as a sinner,
Wicked as securities, exchanges on 'Wall Street,'
Insecure as an empire,
Greedy as a fast food glutton,
As brave as a fool,
Warmongering as a chicken hawk politician,
Machevellian as a coward,
As rigged as the free market,
As selfish as Capitalism,
As tolerant as Islam,
Beautiful as a clear cut forest,
Charming as a strip mall,
Forward thinking as chaos,
Lawless as congress,
United as a belligerent crowd,
Compassionate as a swat team,
Green as any petrochemical company,
Organic as pollution,
Deep as a strip mine . . .
. . .
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 9:30 PM UTC
Today is not Lord Byron’s birthday.
Today is May 3, and I’m preparing to enter the real world.
Graduation comes in nine days.
Before me like a flag my future unfurls.
Poetry is something I must never give up on.
The class that I took this semester reaffirmed that.
The feedback I gained was something to feed upon.
My poems felt like more than mere lab rats.
Dissected on a cold, steel operating table,
Without hope of being understood, only analyzed.
My mind has always served me well when I demand that it be able.
My work is not something that I want privatized.
So I’ll continue my work in the field of poetics,
To try to make the world understand what goes on between these ears.
The words that I write shall be unapologetic,
As I drift through these forthcoming years.
Graduation is in nine days.
Today is not Lord Byron’s birthday.
May 27, 2013
May 27, 2013 at 2:44 PM UTC
There is a screaming silence on the
privatized public transportation of
Cleveland. A scream in the hearts and minds
of a people who live with less than zero.
Car fires in the streets.
Syringes next to the suburbs.
Nowhere is holy in this great city,
a veritable Gomorrah.
It's not a jungle,
it's a prison and a **** shame.
Ohio is for abandonment;
musicians, writers, astronauts,
pilots.
All desperate to leave a crater
where they used to stand,
to blast
a hole in the heart of this state.
A hole it already has.
They make it less than zero.
Plastering Chief Wahoo against
their foreheads, houses, cars,
lawns, chests, arms, bars, streets.
Saying it's not racism,
it's tradition.
Meanwhile, everyone else is
trying to explain that just because
it's old doesn't mean it isn't racist
to the idiots of Cleveland.
Cleveland is a city made of
stains, tarnish, rust and apathy.
Erecting a chandelier
instead of a dream,
a monument to desperation.
There is a scream in the back of the throat.
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 12:58 PM UTC
In light of recent awareness about content being stolen from users, I have decided to remove all of my poems. The idea that my poetry could potentially be stolen alarms me, and makes me feel as though I'd rather not post my poems at all. :(
I saw the first page off of the infamous blog that had stolen property prior to it being privatized, recognizing poems from fellow users of this site without credit or reference to them. It disgusted and discouraged me!
I just became a member of Hello Poetry about a week or so ago. In this short span of time, I have received overwhelming responses and encouragement. Everyone has been so lovely and supportive. It has truly been more than I could have ever hoped for. I want to thank each and every one of you for that. Sincerely. Thank you for everything. <3
Sep 5, 2014
Sep 5, 2014 at 5:22 PM UTC
we stood tall;
free and unabridged
a testament to our youths
but when they called us down
we stayed standing
our height shrunk
wrinkles worn on torn porcelain
a graying of old stone
we grew fatter off decadent fruit
while caged animal fed on imprisoned others
and the minority was culled to a head
in internment camps
in privatized prisons
in the courts
and the legislator's building
in the very creation of the nation
stillborn at conception
an aborted fetus carried to term
delivered, to be chucked to the wayside
weened off the milk of a tormenting yearn
to make, to build, to think, and learn
but we stifle that now
in favor of rockets to fly
leaning toward oil to burn
will there be a scream when we die
or will this silence hold firm?
Dec 31, 2020
Dec 31, 2020 at 12:33 PM UTC
flaccid pacifists symbolizing sexism
single-mindedly corrupting hostile youth
ruining bullying and facilitating inbreeding
through top-down initiatives laced with bath salts
the pussify-ing of America has begun –
tear soaked cheeks distort with rage
at the blatant separatist ideals propagated
creating not one nation under rule of law,
but many angry independent states bent on torture laws
and privatized prison for profit
shareholders holding gavels and lives
in an unjust system of justification
……they deserve this –
broken-hearted mothers line razor-wire fences
defenseless against the tyrannical bureaucracy
beholden to the loved one wrongly incarcerated
banging bloodied fists against walls that hear no cries,
defeated, they slip into damaged Datsun’s disappearing
freeway anonymity is the course of the day –
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 4:49 PM UTC
:
Here you come throwing pebbles.
I tap you on the shoulder,
Clap you with this lyrical boulder.
Wait til you get older, to be colder.
You come with a sea breeze,
Ah got the arctic chill.
The big freeze. Dropping
You to your knees.
I am taking back my seniority
My wisdom gets priority
Your dead theme, is in obscurity
Yappn' bout you got bling, rims
And bullchit things.
Like how long your money is.
And the 'n' word.
The 'b', word, the 'h', word,
Played out bragging and complaining
Shaming the art with your empty cart
Making noise “ain’t-saying nad-da”.
You're just a bother.
Trying to get paid
When you can't even get laid
Cause we see yo *** on the stage.
Void of rage.
Lil' poot **** hollering bout
" what "
I need to make a come up
Go find your guts,
Stop the noise lil' boys.
Take a stand lil man.
The gods have risen,
Time to pay attention.
Before you find
Yourself enslaved
In a privatized prison.
Leave the stuff
Found in the hood alone.
Like black n milds
And malt liquor.
It's bad enough
They are feeding
You food
Without nutrition
Prepn you for institutions
You go to jail for child support
Then cannot get a job,
When they let you out.
Now your record is shady.
So want to do away with the lady
And her baby...
viscous cycle;
Use the rest of your brain
Before it too is dead.
Lil boyz want to **** their
Own mama, ta run with a gang.
So u shoot mama in her sleep
Bang, bang, bang..
Now they have you for life
If they let you live.
No one to your rescue
Maybe the boy who
Cut his mama up
And baked her like a duck.
Maybe you and him
Can become fast
Friends.
With a little luck.
So don't throw pebbles
Off bridges and run
That's why I am tapping
You on the shoulder and
Clapping you with this
Lyrical boulder son!
If you want to
Thrive/and survive,
You need to stay alive.
You need to learn to
Plant and grow
Before they put
You in that hole.
Everything you eat
Don't have to come
From Chinese store
Or the A-rabs in the hood.
You cannot stay alert
On the food
From burger king
It boils down to this
You
Need
Your vitamins
You need to
Know your trees
Herbs
And your seeds...
If nothing
Else please get
The knowledge
Of these.
Don't get stuck in the
Traps "you can see"
Let hedonism
Be a thing of the past
Get serious,
And get serious fast....
Nov 24, 2015
Nov 24, 2015 at 12:56 AM UTC
.
She's like a drama queen,
Plays the 'blame game' like a loser,
Fair minded as a bigot,
Wages war like drones,
As free as surveillance,
As open as privatized prisons,
As equal as feudalism,
As rich as the beggar masses,
Bankrupt as homeowners,
Socialist as the military,
Truthful, trustful as "NEWS," as propaganda,
Pagan as the manufactured Goddess 'Columbia,'
Christian as the stingy,
Pious as a sinner,
Wicked as securities, exchanges on 'Wall Street,'
Insecure as an empire,
Greedy as a fast food glutton,
As brave as a fool,
Warmongering as a chicken hawk politician,
Machevellian as a coward,
As rigged as the free market,
As selfish as Capitalism,
As tolerant as Islam,
Beautiful as a clear cut forest,
Charming as a strip mall,
Forward thinking as chaos,
Lawless as congress,
United as a belligerent crowd,
Compassionate as a swat team,
Green as any petrochemical company,
Organic as pollution,
Deep as a strip mine . . .
. . .
Feb 27, 2020
Feb 27, 2020 at 11:48 AM UTC
You requested a ride with your phone
since you don't walk at night all alone.
You were tired and drunk
so in the back seat you sunk
dropping your coat with a groan.
I drive around town after work,
because bills pile up if i shirk.
Patriotic America
writes corporate erotica
and leaves me with nary a perk.
Since I can't drive for Uber or Lyft
I'm stuck working first and third shift.
The money's much needed,
but I wish fewer heeded
capitalist lies, so I'm miffed.
FAGSS really get me to ****
(fully automated gay space socialism)
But until then I roam,
only renting (no home).
Hurry up now and rise communism.
Lyft and Uber make me dough.
But only as long as drunks go
out and party all night
maybe run into a fight,
but please, by all means, take it slow.
Uber wants to prevent their drunk riders
from being real rowdy outsiders.
So they no longer sit
in the car that they picked.
Get ready for eggs and slashed tires.
Uber's CEO likes Trump.
On his face I'd like to dump
tons of gross ****
including his ****
before squashing him into a lump.
Hello, I'll be your Lyft driver.
Get in, and be a Lyft rider.
Please buckle, no whimper.
Go ahead, sulk and simper,
but please, can you tip me a fiver?
Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 2:21 PM UTC
It's only cables that tie me to you now
Everytime I try to contact you I get shocked
My phone sits there on the coffee table, but it mys as well be my noose
Every text message I sent was just time spent induced
The idea of being with you is so abstract light bends obtuse
But we tried government and it became to powerful
Our markets were privatized and our thoughts of trade were never exchanged
Oland our military minds built thought tanks from broken memories
I remember those October clouds were like the fog of war
When the sky ripped open and tore the ozone
The conflict was swift but it would take time to repair it
You won the battle though, and your sovereignty became apparent
And here I am with this telephone just calling in air strikes
Missing every time
Because you don't care
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 1:37 PM UTC
Sometimes, you gotta just sit
on the bathroom floor for a while.
Because,
that’s where you got ready for
sleepovers with the popular girls,
tattooed your finger when you were 15,
started to give up on the world,
and started to believe in it again.
Bumpy tiles beneath you,
leaving red imprints on your upper thighs,
they saw your manic impulses
and sluggish lows,
they saw your meltdowns
before dance class,
and moments of privatized shame
after knocking over a vase
at your own house party.
The walls have changed over the years,
the floors have been
tile and ceramic and hardwood,
but a bathroom is a bathroom -
your own personal echo chamber,
or a makeshift confessional,
whatever you may need.
Jan 16, 2020
Jan 16, 2020 at 4:10 PM UTC
we can not fight for freedom
For only free men can fight at all
•
we can not search for love
For only lovers know what we seek
•
•
So how can we proceed at all ?
•
•
in the simple song proceeds the dawn
// //
Yes !
You may recieve all that you need
If you promise to share it
With all who want
:::
freedom & love
( these are not commodities )
///
Come !
This world's been STOLEN !
all truth had been COMPROMISED !
( corporately PRIVATIZED ) -----
What the **** does that mean ! )
///
and I mean
WHAT THE **** DOES ..... THAT ... MEAN !
meaning
ANSWER !
now
OR FOREVER BE A SLAVE
//
You cannot fight for freedom
You cannot search for love
//
but
Be still until
You become
LIFE ITSELF
/:/
&
Look around you !
Ah yes !
EVERYONE
May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 6:29 PM UTC