"promissory" poems
The greatest demonstration of freedom in the history of the nation.
Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation.
A great beacon light of hope.
Seared in the flames of withering justice.
One hundred years later, the ***** still is not free.
We’ve come to our nation’s capital to cash a check.
This note was the promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white, men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned.
Now is the time to make real promises of democracy.
Now is the time to make injustice a reality for all of God’s children.
There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the ***** is granted his citizen rights.
In the process of gaining our rightful place, we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds.
I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations.
You have been veterans of creative suffering.
Go back, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed.
I say to you today, even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream.
A deeply rooted american dream.
A dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.”
I have a dream where little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the context of their character.
I have a dream today!
That little black boys and girls, will be able to join hands with little white boys and girls as brothers and sisters.
I have a dream today!
The rough places will be plain and the crooked places will be made straight, “and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together."
This is our hope.
This is the faith I go back with.
With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood.
When we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God’s children --- black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics --- will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old ***** spiritual, “Free at last. Free at last. Thank God Almighty, we are free at last.”
Oct 26, 2017
Oct 26, 2017 at 8:26 AM UTC
a man privately asks, can you help?
you say, sure-no-hesitation
let me think on it for a day or two, he says
yet you act even before he comes back,
too late, you say, when he returns,
too late, he repeats in puzzlement,
yup, my check is in the mail,
cause one senses the need is dire plus,
plus you well recall the immutable obligation when
a vague commitment of “just ask” was inked in a long ago message,
a poem born from/in the days when you slept in the car on the street
this vague promissory,
a more enforceable judgement in your own court of law
than any state construct or the judgmental eyes of a silenced god
word, honor, do.
thus it begins, an unwritten contract inked,
an egregious interest rate of 0% proffered and agreed,
commences a plain white envelope trickle,
a check inside, by postal mail, slowly it came,
month by month, inch by inch, Niagara Falls ^
years go by, and then comes a day,
when the accompanying check and its gift wrapped note says,
Paid In Full!
and so much for the tedious minutiae...
*like kindness, I do,
Thank You and Your Welcome
are high on my list of proofs of
daily human extensions existential,*
Paid in Full,
*now rests at the top of the list
let me be blunt, the thrill of being a party
to a deal with no handshake, just coated in the
honorable words waterproof sealant,
with a person I likely may never meet,
made me so better assured of whom many claim I am,
a mathematical proof revered and kept mind inscribed,
it was an aspirational **** an unforeseen monthly blunt,
the best feeling good smile,
a kick in the pants about what really matters
being paid twice over and me,
getting by far,
the humanity confirmation,
the better half of the deal
write too often of honor,
and yet, will instinctual do again,
again overpowering my rays of will,
for there is no deflection, only reflection
for the glorious riches gifted and received,
without compare
the return on my honorable investment the best ever*
oh brotherhood, oh brotherhood,
I am paid in the currency coined from brotherhood...
Feb 26, 2019
Feb 26, 2019 at 11:30 AM UTC
Default! Default! parties from the left cried!
But the people said no, they still had their pride
They viewed these parties with some skepticism,
and tackled the problem with true stoicism
There were no riots, no violent demonstrations,
as was evident in many other debt ridden nations
We simply put our heads down and got on with the task,
answering all of the questions the world had to ask
And now through our efforts things seem to have improved,
with a deal on the promissory note having just been approved
We still owe the money but we have more years to pay,
we can only hope our grandchildren will pay it off one day
There are green shoots of recovery, all is not lost
We learned a valuable lesson, though at a significant cost
We have done well though we cannot let down our guard
A sentiment echoed recently by one Christine Lagarde
We cannot get carried away with president Obama’s praise
For Enda Kenny on Paddy’s day, of all the days!
though lauded in Europe as a good example to everyone
we must not relax, there is a lot more to be done
But after all the cost cutting, redundancies, pay cuts,
all we get from Europe now is more ifs and buts
And I know this is wrong before I’ve even said it;
but for all of our hard work, would Europe not give us some credit?
Aug 15, 2015
Aug 15, 2015 at 9:38 AM UTC
Those like David McWilliams tried to make us see the light,
but our politicians were quick to tell us everything was all right
It’s grand they said; sure our economy is booming,
though now it appears they knew disaster was looming
It seems the easy credit and ridiculous property prices,
left the banks owing billions, facing a financial crisis
and one night our politicians agreed the bank guarantee,
borrowing billions from Europe, selling our sovereignty.
The billions owed by the banks were to be paid by you and me,
which meant we all faced years of austerity
The money disappeared almost as quickly as Fianna Fail,
we were at the mercy of the Troika, Angela Merkel and all.
We owed billions in the form of a promissory note,
with billions to be paid each year, by rote
The banks and the developers washed their hands of it all,
some even representing us now in the Dail!
Yes the banks and bond holders who were mostly to blame,
did not lose a penny, they knew how to play the game
But for us there’s no help, it’s an absolute shame,
and the politicians reasoning sounds completely lame
We had our politicians and the business world to thank,
but they laughed all the way to the nearest offshore bank
Swiftly followed by developers and entrepreneurs,
all this country got from them was a collective Up Yours!
Aug 15, 2015
Aug 15, 2015 at 9:33 AM UTC
where's my baptismal
water,
i mean--
like a child using my
words...
where the **** is it!?!
a glug is in order.
if nowhere is to be found,
then my Mother herself
calls out a name with no
response.
a promissory note, chewed
to death.
by prominent teeth,
persistently white.
Jun 10, 2018
Jun 10, 2018 at 2:08 AM UTC
My yesterday
Rebutting my yesterday
Where my pains subsides and my
My imperfections and failures are
as much a blessing from God
~
I did my share of crying,
took my disappointment with thrive.
When life wasn’t fair,
I borrow against my
Promissory note, knowingly I couldn’t repay
I have taken so many tests,
The result always came back the same
so close
yet fail to grasp it.
~
My heart has been trampled and beaten
Somehow, I embrace, I forgive
And came back stronger
Friends all tried to warn me but I held my head up high
Knowingly imperfections and failures are
Much as a blessing from God
My yesterday was only twenty-four hours ago
The clocks go forward,
I lose an hour In the fall - I gain ...
a piece of yesterday
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 8:19 PM UTC
It was January 1st... So far as I can recall.
When I fell in love with a woman I met at the mall
My mother had me patiently standing in a line, while she shopped for other things.
15 minutes went by... Then another thirty... As I hoped for something better that this New Year could bring.
I received a tap on my shoulder,
I thought it was my mother as I turned over.
However, I saw a woman in her mid twenties.
As I gazed upon her she said "Hi, my name is Jenny".
She was so beautiful, like waking up to a morning sunrise.
The view was so bright with beauty, I had to rub my eyes.
We exchanged stories with laughs and smiles.
Until we forgot we had been in line for A good while.
It seemed our talk would spark something promissory.
Until another man came into the story.
Maybe it was her brother, or probably just a friend.
Tragically, in this specific occasion it was her boyfriend.
So now it is a memory to laugh at and recall.
The day I fell in love with a woman I met at the mall.
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 10:27 AM UTC
Where ever you may be let there be solicitude. Clear all other moods my dear. a sensitivity you took for granted. All the bull **** you ranted. Still all is forgiven, but not forgotten. As my inner demons want to see you rotting. this battle inst over yet, let compassion fill your heart; before all is to late an ripped apart. you had my sympathy but forget my empathy. Let off the deep end, descend my ill minded friend. i know this is hard to comprehend. quite useless indeed. just heed the warning because we may not see the next morning my friend. peace cease to rest as for your no longer here, just a mirror i broke. so evoke or choke on this toxic air. as its seems harder to bare. to everyone who thinks differently or indifferently i wish you all well. as i step through hell watching from the inside out.. endless route. i now walk in solitary, that this wont end through any
promissory i held. ashes fades to grey. only to feel betrayal to watch all vanish away.
_ marty ** ftw an FML
Jun 7, 2018
Jun 7, 2018 at 7:15 PM UTC
"Pascals preserve -"
It came with tamper proof *****
and heavenly holes
one way slats for
the blinkered souls
a promissory note
from the big "I AM"
there's eternal life
in my - Godly jam !!
Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 3:10 AM UTC
I felt a shiver of regret as the sun burned down the stars,
In the absence of emptiness, there was nothing to claim as ours,
All I could do was shake the cinders from my weary, bleary brain,
And try to build some beauty from the ashes that remain,
I saw the world in cobwebs through the fingertips of dawn,
The only truth I know: there’s no revenge like moving on,
So I took apart my heart to help me lighten up my load,
And let the pieces point me even further down the road,
Maybe we lived like vampires, never stopping to reflect,
Tearing down the pretty castles we could no longer protect,
Your tightrope tongue painted forever in a promissory note,
As I lost hope in all the barbed wire and sand inside my throat,
Burdened with my hands of glass and eyes of tourmaline,
Broken by everything I touch, weathered by all I’ve seen,
Perhaps the sun will bring atonement, a secret I can keep,
You’ll build a better birdcage, maybe I’ll look where I leap,
For now, I’ll search for answers in the lines around my eyes,
Inhale the rotting stench of time, taste the miles and compromise,
As I walk the narrow pathway that separates lost from free,
Letting go, still I know, you’re the only road back home for me.
Sep 29, 2016
Sep 29, 2016 at 2:02 PM UTC
*Vacillations weaving stance is perilous to all who broach
For he who says he will, and wont, betrays a trust and builds reproach;
Destroys regard and turns the thought to doubt’s restraining hesitance,
In future dealings, hence creates, suspicions pall in residence.
Wherein truth and forthright eye mark the man of rigid stance
He who will not meet your gaze is one who steps a Gypsy dance
And he who utters hollow words of promissory, turned to dust,
Is one, who one might best avoid…. and on no account at all, entrust.
For some are hard and some men soft and some have slippery palms to grip
And some, intentioned well, might fade as failed performances may slip.
But he who clasps a handshake firm and holds you with a steady eye,
To speak the truth’s resounding tones, when proven…. built on bedrock, lie.*
Marshalg
May 17 2013
Sandringham
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 5:45 PM UTC
already buds are forming on each tree
visible through the february mist
this sign of coming spring won't be dismissed
life makes to us its yearly guarantee
that after darkness comes the jubilee
while all of nature's colours still persist
and will explode the roadsides will be kissed
with light again all life yearns to be free
in each heart hides a promissory note
from past to future valid for all time
worth all the stories that our folk have told
to be redeemed when we are called to vote
weighed in the balance and cleansed of all grime
for a true substance worth far more than gold
Feb 16, 2012
Feb 16, 2012 at 8:08 AM UTC
*Where goest thou my sullied Grecian Princes?
Where takest thee now, thy perfect soul?
Dost thou ken the sharpened knives are drawn to blood thee
To slice thy tomorrows, rent un-whole.
Dost thou know thy tangled gambles are undone now
The visigoths, then angered, are now wild.
Preparing to dismember thee completely,
Preparing to dessicate thee now my child.
Who will sing thy piteous song of supplication?
Who will bid to share thy brimming cup of blame?
Whence are they who once proffered compensation?
….Vanished one and all… in crimson puffs of flame.
Hollow now the howls of lost redemption,
Empty now expressions of regret,
Gone are all the notes of promissory
Blown about the halls in winds of cold forget.*
M.
6 July
Jul 6, 2015
Jul 6, 2015 at 1:26 AM UTC
Sometimes, I remember the good times
but I struggle to remember when times
were good
Sometimes, I remember the bad times
but I can always seem to remember
where I stood
Sometimes, I remember the memories
planted firmly inside my dreams
Sometimes I'm a tightly woven nightmare
Sometimes I'm ripped wide open
at the seams
Sometimes I'm a closed book
Sometimes I'm an open prayer
Sometimes I'm promissory
Sometimes I'm not even there
Sometimes I think that parts of me
should be sold as a sealed section
unwrapped in a place of loneliness
feeding just another's addiction
Sometimes when I lay down at night
I pray to be someone I could be
Sometimes when I lay down at night
I wish there was someone next to me
Someone to hold me
Someone to care
Someone who knows
Sometimes, I'm there
Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 4:13 AM UTC
Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com
A Laser Focus on Screaming Deaths
Look upon my Works, ye Mighty, and despair
-Shelley, “Ozymandias”
Laser focus laser focus laser
Focus laser focus laser focus
Laser focus teens falling to their deaths
Laser focus escape for two thousand dollars
Laser focus or a promissory note
If the enemy overrun the airport
We’ll laser focus your refund back to you
With this laser focus degree of precision
Shredded body in the laser focus
Of the wheel well
Aug 21, 2021
Aug 21, 2021 at 8:53 AM UTC
toxic
Where ever you may be let there be solicitude. Clear all other moods my dear. a sensitivity you took for granted. All the bull **** you ranted. Still all is forgiven, but not forgotten. As my inner demons want to see you rotting. this battle inst over yet, let compassion fill your heart; before all is to late an ripped apart. you had my sympathy but forget my empathy. Let off the deep end, descend my ill minded friend. i know this is hard to comprehend. quite useless indeed. just heed the warning because we may not see the next morning my friend. peace cease to rest as for your no longer here, just a mirror i broke. so evoke or choke on this toxic air. as its seems harder to bare. to everyone who thinks differently or indifferently i wish you all well. as i step through hell watching from the inside out.. endless route. i now walk in solitary, that this wont end through any
promissory i held. ashes fades to grey. only to feel betrayal to watch all vanish away.
** ftw an FML
Jun 7, 2018
Jun 7, 2018 at 7:14 PM UTC
Them shabby,greedy,grasping grabby gits what sits on Whitehall's seats gives me the heebies
what with all them bleeding freebies it beats me what we has them for,it's sods own law but them lot there don't give a flying monkeys,they just don't care for the likes of me and you,
but it's me and you what makes them rich and still the greedy buggers itch for more and more,
a case of Orwell's nineteen eighty four and there's no ragged trousered philanthropists anymore,the score being, them one and us nil and the swines send us the ****** bill and if you haven't got the readies it's off to beddy byes up hangmans hill,
them ******** will
get you in the end,bend you to their way of thinking,put holes in you until you're sinking and throw you a promissory note,does **** float?
I think not
but I think it's what we get and all they've got,
it's a right old liberty with the men at the thin end of the ministry and the fat cats get them rats to batten us down.
Out of town it gets no better,they google and with the letter of the law move in to nick you,it makes me sick,an Englishman's home should be his castle not the knocking shop for them what has to hassle,but
it's in the doings and when the doings become undone, we see it now with the knife and the gun
and that's no fun.neither is the sharp end of the stick they **** and poke us with,
it's donkeys and dogs and the laps of the gods and we sit and drink tea when the clock strikes three
because we're all a little crazy,
a teensy off key,
we have to be
to survive.
Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 6:14 PM UTC
Where now the promises of five years ago
We’d all feel much better, but do we, O no!
Some having now to use a food bank
Children are learning in schools that are dank.
The roads have become a sea of potholes
Zero-hour jobs not much better than dole
Fewer police officers walking the beat
Feeling secure is becoming a treat.
The man at the top expounds thoughts anew
Deputy man has a different view
University fees we won’t let them change
In government though such things rearrange.
Rich businessmen avoid paying tax
Down below credit cards teeter at max
Inflation comes down as they try to impress
But energy bills never get any less.
The silent majority keep a stiff upper lip
As their security starts losing its grip
But it gets barely noticed in the Westminster bubble
For those less than rich will always spell trouble.
Naturally, of course, there’s a different view
From politicians cast in a different hue
All trying to wheedle their way to get votes
Filling our heads with more promissory notes.
Imagine if you will it’s December next year
Do you feel right now that you have less to fear?
Or is it the case that nothing has changed?
Just the furniture in Downing Street got re-arranged.
Maybe in fact it stayed exactly the same
And we voted back in this bad lot to the game
We can blame ourselves later, when we see what we’ve done
Ensuring that actually, we’ve really not won.
©Joe Wilson – Where now the promises…2015
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 12:31 PM UTC
harmless
is a kind
of snake
on a child’s
backyard
slide.
a warped
sports card
is a stretcher
cigarettes
slip from.
***
is a nightlight, well,
go on…
-
I single out my only son for pretending to have one arm
when what I’ve said
is make sadness
from what you have.
Apr 18, 2013
Apr 18, 2013 at 2:24 PM UTC
sky heavy laden with cloud,
earthhour approaches, the
dark may get darker, dark
like eighty-five percent
cocoa, the tastebuds rave,
there is no clear sky save,
above the clouds, no night
sky can be seen,
weather wet enough
to be obscene,
symbolism is not lost
except on the sea, waves
of ******* find shores
and beaches, satellites pickup
the pieces from space,
Nightmares and
Of the dreams,
neon blue water,
grass roof huts and
white, hot, hot, hot,
sand.
Promissory notes on the
future, ancestors and generations
did not speak of what we see,
in a language we discern as plain,
be a steward,
of the planet,
of the place we all call home,
here is a thought,
what if we have been renting,
this place all this time,
and the Land Title Holder,
has a case, to keep,
The Damage Deposit,
while giving us notice,
to leave...
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 8:47 PM UTC
Switch off
switch on
one more mod con'
what is life without electric curlers
vibrating pillows or clocks that glow in the dark?
A long time ago when John was switched on
a younger mod con'
here and gone in a flash,
cash was cash not a promissory note
not service charge because there's no fuckin' chance
where there's no fuckin' hope
ah
I lost the thread
computer tells me
conversation dead and to get a life
or switch off
my reply
**** off
Mother told me,
'son
no blasphemy'
and here's me
cursing to all and sundry
ps, I hate Monday,
but that's not the end of it
mod con's are put upon this earth to
destroy conversations and culture,
hairdo's and weirdos and who knows
that last one may not be true
Mother told me,
'don't trust politicians or men
in pigtails'
that was a long time before Cameron
came along and he is most definitely
a 'mod con
should be in a chain gang but we
don't have them so we put him in
Number ten which is fenced in anyway.
pps I still hate Monday
switch off
Aug 25, 2016
Aug 25, 2016 at 2:44 AM UTC
Yesterday is a
cancelled check;
tomorrow is a
promissory note;
today is the only
cash you have
- so spend it
wisely and take
the time to look
around you and
see the beauty
and love that is
out there and
realize that people
do care even
though your life
may have been
unfair.
Jon York 2016
Feb 16, 2016
Feb 16, 2016 at 11:02 AM UTC
What's the intent behind it,
Rushing off to set questions after eight moons?
But who's the devil here,
You or your paymasters?
This cycle of wickedness must stop,
Downing tools in protest of measely wages,
Extracting promissory notes after rolling weeks,
Only to subject frustrated young minds to ad-hoc examination?
The claim of sitting on ashes,
For days on end,
In favour of a more beautiful system,
May just be undone by this callous act;
If truly you desire a future workforce,
Better than the generations before,
Then act like you truly care,
Allow time to re-engage;
Cultivate their fallow minds,
Back to productive ways,
After all, what glory is there,
In being successful with mass failures?
Oct 19, 2022
Oct 19, 2022 at 8:19 AM UTC
Our wedding license was
Just a promissory note;
A thing a compulsive
Liar once wrote.
Something Billy Jack
Once said, in short,
"Written so you could
Get out of it in court."
I find myself saying
When it's all said and done
"What are you, anyway,
A secret republican?"
I thought it was just political
But, you devious little cuss,
Your sidewinding ways
Have slopped over into us.
A one-sided marriage
Is what we have now.
I put up with it all this time
But please don't ask me how.
It has been rather like you
Don't know what marriage is for
So write this down someplace:
I'm not gonna take it anymore.
One person by himself
Simply cannot make a pair.
Hey saddest thing of all
Is I doubt did you will care.
A month or two from now
Or maybe further on
You might look up and discover
That half your team is gone.
Oct 20, 2017
Oct 20, 2017 at 11:00 PM UTC
I don't care a fig if you look big in that,
if you wear a 38D or are totally flat
but I do care about you,
and you are the one that I see in
every line of poetry I write, in
every star that shines,
in every night that winds around my waist,
I can taste you in every spoonful of glee, every
coffee and tea, every time, every time,
every time.
Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 9:48 AM UTC