Casa of all blocks
Thou art hidden between thorn berries
And years!!!!

Thine windows sell thy tears
To salesmen
Of deaths door!!!

Darkly shores
Thou hast arrived to
Fine
Plays thou hast blended
Thy do of hahas
And wanting more for the taking!!!!

Decourous thou art
Wallstreet handler!!!

Yet,

When the stock market closes
Thy wallets benevolent
Forces are unseen

i am art
You are art
It doesnt matter the way we living
We still art ,a art that was creating with sand,water

We are strippers with bruises
But we are art.
We are wallstreet liars
We are trashed and clean
But we also art
We are different colors but we was creating with art....

.
                                     B
                             u    u  l     u
                          l         l  B         l
                        l            u              l
                      B             l                B
                     u              B                u
                     l             u   l                l
                     l              l    l               l
                      B            B u              B
                        u           l l              u
                           l          B            l
                              l       u         l
                                       l
                                       l

mid-air toward the icy Catskill eddies
frozen once  and once again--
bridge-jump skyward watchers--
plunge of marrow tears.

you are there.  simulacrum ping
-pong pop on carpet rise
another consciousness i've known
the winking soul recognitive
of grin, of inner whispered act
we finish lineless, applause of ancients drone
on trio sum in low man's song,
on kitchen counter edges,
finger tests and tested trusts,
nail clips clipping on dehiscing ****--
the party. the porch. the project truth of beauty's virtue shown--
the drunken blood a lover
swirled on wet on wet undone.

your attic pillow-talk sobriety
of Green Hole fun
to echo four years, six and seventeen
the age unknown, we shared umbrella sanctity of family home:
raindrops trump the timeless wallstreet horns,
a zero sky ungains the settled hue of mind,
each thought the same, copula to void
in mythic forms we metaphor the plenum won

building dwelling-thinking sung,
the cardiac in tones--
lucid union slowing in the swirling sun--
the eddies stop again, sewn in Catskill frost..
the love we felt alive, in mid-air jump,
in Berto's cheer
we match the water's silent thrum

.
                                       F
                              u      ut       u
                          t           ur           t
                        u             e              u
                        r              s                r
                       e            F   u             e
                       s            t    u              s
                       F            r   e              F
                        u             s                u
                         t             F               t
                           u          u            u
                              r        t          r
                                e      u      e
                                        r
                                        e
                                        s

He says "Geek Poet!
Leave the politics alone
Stick to Pop culture"

Cousin.
Politics ARE Pop culture.
don't you see?

in a world where businesses
buy natural disaster insurance
In fear of presidential tweets
McDonald's burger vending machines
You think this isn't dystopia?

We play games to escape.
where can we go
when the "real world"
is just as scary
upside down?

Tell me, Cousin.
Where do you write your poetry?
is it safe?

Do you surround yourself with muses?
back turned to a naked woman?
is there whiskey on the bar,
A journal,
your favorite pen?
Your cell phone,
clentching in the public restroom?

because no matter where you are.
that sanctuary
is a ******* pillow fort
compared to the Fort Knox
of an artists imagination

politics ARE pop culture
China is throwing unfathomable
amounts of money into Propaganda
targeting millennials though memes.
Fish don't see water, remember?

You are telling me
I can't write about politics.
There are Americans
who have never voted,
Radical left and right facebook profiles
protecting and attacking A Racist,
selfish, blemish on our history.
you wonder why we are scared, Cousin?

You want to know why I am so loud?

I watch Men step alligator shoe
out of Boston limousines
Slicked back hair straight
from wolf of wallstreet
belligerent screaming
"I do what I Waaaaaaant!"
"She does what she waaaaaaaaaaaaants!"
"We do what we waaaaant!"

This is the world
we're escaping from.
Excuse me if I break
from the zombie jokes
The vampire romances
Focus on the dead bodies
in our own city, Cousin.

Our demons are real now.

dystopian literature
called for the 2017 election
as far back as the 1930s'

Senator Buzz Windrip
from "It can't happen here"
by Sinclair Lewis
makes promises
to "return America to a better time".
back in 1935

buying validity for his ideas
in airtime on the radio,
tarring those who disagree,
as tools of mother russia,

dismissing woman,
as silly socialists.
naming the press
"a lot of irresponsible wind bags."

In the book "Parable of the talents",
Octavia butler Predicts a "Pox" In 2015
Wiping most of the population.
President Andrew Steele Jarret
promising to return the country
to an "Older Simpler time".
She wrote this book in 1998

Want to learn how to defeat Trump?
Read "Our Twisted Hero,"
by Yi Munyol

Read "In the Heart of the Valley of Love, "
by Cynthia Kadohata

All of these Dystopian fantasies
Prepare the Geeks
to rise up and fight.
Pop culture is the only thing saving us
Knowledge is the only thing saving us
Standing up,
Making art,
Being loud
is the only thing saving us
from the red button
in the orange hands
of the man who NEVER Had
the best words,

Because we do.

Repeat After me:

We The Artists
The Geeks who shall inherit
Swear to protect our words.
We will not bow,
bend,
or break.
Ink is the blood of prophets
The voice is a weapon

Excuse me if I fight
For education over distractraction.
Forgive me for preaching
Art as our gospel.

you can't Incite Revolution
by throwing dice at ghosts.

I am sick of being tall
because my friends
are too busy crawling
I'm putting all my stat points into
inspire

Let me incite placebo healing
for a small fraction
of the tortured
anxiety pretzels I walk along
each day.

I will spit
on anxiety paper-cuts
from this paperback of bigotry
in our future history
labeling myself neosporin prayin'
God,
PLEASE
let me be charismatic enough.

He says "Geek Poet!
Leave the politics alone
Stick to Pop culture"

Cousin.
Politics ARE Pop culture.
don't you see?

in a world where businesses
buy natural disaster insurance
In fear of presidential tweets
McDonald's burger vending machines
You think this isn't dystopia?

We play games to escape.
where can we go when the real world is
scary as the upside down?

Tell me, Cousin.
Where do you write your poetry?
is it safe?

Do you surround yourself with coffee?
Turn your back to a naked woman?
is there whiskey on the bar,
A journal,
your favorite pen?
Your cell phone,
clentching in the public restroom?

because no matter where you are.
that sanctuary
is a ******* pillow fort compared to the
Fort Knox of an artists imagination

politics ARE pop culture
China is throwing unfathomable
amounts of money into Propaganda
targeting millennials though memes.
Fish don't see water, remember?

You are telling me
I can't write about politics.
There are Americans
who have never voted,
posting radical left and right facebook posts.
protecting and attacking A Racist,
selfish, blemish on our history.
you wonder why we are scared, Cousin?

You want to know why I am so loud?

I watch Men step alligator shoe
out of Boston limousines
Slicked back hair straight
from wolf of wallstreet
belligerent screaming
"I do what I Waaaaaaant!"
"She does what she waaaaaaaaaaaaants!"
"We do what we waaaaant!"

This is the world
we're escaping from.
Excuse me if I break
from the zombie jokes
The vampire romances
Focus on the dead bodies
in our own city, Cousin.

Our demons are real now.

dystopian literature
called for the 2017 election
as far back as the 1930s'

Senator Buzz Windrip
from "It can't happen here"
by Sinclair Lewis
makes promises
to "return America to a better time".
back in 1935

buying validity for his ideas
in airtime on the radio,
tarring those who disagree,
as tools of mother russia,
dismissing woman,
as silly socialists.
naming the press
"a lot of irresponsible wind bags."

In the book "Parable of the talents",
Octavia butler Predicts a "Pox" In 2015
Wiping most of the population.
She wrote this book in 1998

Andrew Steele Jarret
becomes president
promising to return the country
to an "Older Simpler time"

Want to learn how to defeat Trump?
Read "Our Twisted Hero,"
by Yi Munyol

Read
"In the Heart of the Valley of Love, "
by Cynthia Kadohata

All of these Dystopian fantasies
Prepare the Geeks to rise up
and fight.
Pop culture is the only thing saving us
Knowledge is the only thing saving us
Standing up.
Making art.
Being loud
Is the only thing saving us
from the red button
in the orange hands
of the man who NEVER Had
the best words.

We The Artists
The Geeks who will inherit the earth
Swear to protect our words.
We will not bow, bend, or break.
Ink is the blood of prophets
The voice is a weapon

excuse me if I use Mine to educate
rather than distract.
Forgive me for spitting on anxiety paper-cuts
from our government
paperback of bigotry
labeling myself neosporin
praying God, PLEASE
let me be charismatic enough.
Let me incite placebo healing for a small fraction
of the tortured anxiety pretzels
I walk along each day.
I am sick of being tall because
my friends are too busy crawling.

I will preach Art as our gospel, Cousin.
You can't Incite Revolution
by throwing dice at ghosts
Our Pop Culture IS Politics.
I'm putting all my stat points into inspire
Watch how high I roll.

Ever wonder where the dollar bills were
in your life? Do you find money hard to come by?

Greed it's in us we want to make the most money
live like Donald Trump or a Wallstreet Broker,

Now a days it seems we ask, where is my money?
I have a answer for you that greed we desire, well we got
robbed by it and now we pay the price.

So when you ask where's the money? Blame greed for the lack of money coming into your home.

The
Devil weareth
A suit
And a tie
He's
A wallstreet guy........



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

(Pondering Worth)

Money does not make someone better than another who has less of it, money in itself cannot "make" anything at all. Yet it has unmade human kindness, damnable men and taxes.

If it's supposed to be "Do unto others as you would--done unto you.." The Golden Rule then presumes to say that All are equal.

There's no quantification or monetary value when it comes to "Life" it just IS or Isn't (alive). It's no one's business, it has no business. So then, begs the question Why do Men think themselves better or above it, divisively deciding what or who has the right to?
What is Man if not Alive? Why?
Who speaks for creation when men go to destroying the Garden?

i'm not speaking of concrete skies
brittle streets
or wallstreet highs

Suddenly
the whole world
affected by memory loss
Except few people
others
Completely lost their memory
then
they decided to
recorded their memory
as follows

****** was a dangerous virus
Killed million of Jews.

WallStreet a place, where
People find Heaven or Hell.

America and Russia two bad
boys always fight each other.

Olympics people runs for
other than food..

Religion created many team
then, such concept used in sports.

Government a team to loot
from poor for welfare of poor..

Cinema a big hut
Unbelievable made believable..

How can two hearts that was meant for each other became a war-zone ,
they forgot how it all started
    Was it euphoric feelings
Was all those years of pure love just euphoric ,
Am still in shock to see this two lovebirds fight and broke things
  I became scared of love
It frightens me
Vividly i could recall how they walked on the road holding each others hands
All the kisses on the wallstreet
All those vacations , picnics

Now what i see each day is war
  Screaming out loud, yelling at each other  all night, breaking things

This is disaster i said
How can this beautiful love story end with disaster

yeah cops are just working guys doing a ***** job
and when you need one you NEED one
but man, they let themselves be molded into an army
at the drop of a top hat and overtime paycheck
the police are weapons and sometimes used accordingly
they see no problem dropping into invasion mode
against the unemployed, the underemployed
the darker population, freethinkers
and other americans who break no laws
except the law against resisting the harness
the cops accept their role as cattle **** to students
who are playing THEIR role:  cross-examining the USA
it's simple but true--
wear a suit and you're the boss
dress funky and you're a creep.
deserving of the smug baton
i observed this at the G20 summit
where i strolled along a phalanx of cops
there to protect the inviolability of property
more sacrosanct than the citizens of the country
and now i watch them kick down the wallstreet settlements
serving and protecting the dollar almighty
(thanks to my fellow beatniks for the cliche last line)
(but tell me it’s not true)
if you’re a policeman reading this
thanks for getting my keys out of the car
but WAKE UP to the way you’re intermittently implemented

People act like I'm too greedy and/or evil just because I stole so much money from innocent people when I worked on Wallstreet but I blame Gordon Geko because everything was his idea; I simply wanted to impress my dad by making more money than him and all the other ancestors.

yeah cops are just working guys doing a ***** job
and when you need one you need one
but man, they let themselves be molded into an army
at the drop of a top hat and overtime paycheck
the police are weapons and sometimes used accordingly
they see no problem dropping into invasion mode
against the unemployed, the underemployed
the darker population, freethinkers
and other americans who break no laws
except the law against resisting the harness
the cops accept their role as cattle **** to students
who are playing their role:  cross-examining the USA
it's simple but true--
wear a suit and you're the boss
dress funky and you're a creep.
deserving of the smug baton
i observed this at the G20 summit
where i strolled along a phalanx of cops
there to protect the inviolability of property
more sacrosanct than the citizens of the country
and now i watch them kick down the wallstreet settlements
serving and protecting the dollar almighty
(thanks to my fellow beatniks for the cliche last line)
(but tell me it’s not true)
if you’re a policeman reading this
thanks for getting my keys out of the car
but WAKE UP to the way you’re intermittently implemented

Label me a radical, a criminal, a ******* liberal
Eyes are critical and logical, thoughts are cynical
I am lethal, I am suicidal, maybe homicidal

Your fealty to the wealthy is filthy
This city made of many is ******
Somebody over fifty makes the money

Won't get better can't even send a letter
Careful if you tread here below is a shredder
Its a tax evader tears apart people and paper

One ******* on the roof looks to the ******* on the floor
Profits through a glass roof raining shards onto the floor
"Stop It" "It Hurts" "Where's the Proof" "Here's the Door"

No money, no ***, just drugs
So funny, so psychedelic, just dregs
Get money, get ***, just a wallstreet ****

******* if you don't care ******* if you don't believe it
***** to be you below getting ****** and no one gives a ****
***** to be you above ******* without consent, leave a cheap tip

red clay beneath my nails
in the dry cracks of my wintered hands,
feels like I'm holding Georgia,

I hope they all grow strong.
I hope there are no "losers."
I hope there is a chance that I will get to see them grow older,

Is the future really a place of
concrete skies, brittle streets, and Wallstreet highs,
or can I just make my nest up in the mighty giant?