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Social Business Poems | Social Poems About Business

These Social Business poems are examples of Social poems about Business. These are the best examples of Social Business poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | ABC | |

New Future Of The Internet

New Future Of The
Internet


Cable cost are up
too high
You turned to the
internet and so have
I

My Youtube channel
is the way to go
Now I can even make
video shows

I group the videos
to make a show
To bring you the
best of where I go

For kids the mower
and stove videos
I also have vehicles
and some scarecrows

Kids can watch from
morn til night
with lots of things
for a kids delight
							
Light houses, ship
building, and horses
too
Antique barn yards
and tractor pulls
just for you

Aviation, taxidermy,
and crafty wood
works
Viewwithme Youtube
has all the quirks 

The historical homes
make a great tour
Contest and oxen
pulls are never a
bore

Animal friends, I
haven’t forgotten
you
I have horses, dogs,
cows and sheep too

Plenty of petting
pens and milking for
you
And a simple click
is all you have to
do

A lot of shows with
a mix for all
Like demolition
derby or a stunt so
tall

So if you dropped
the cable and you
have a need
I have three
channels for you to
see
 
By: Doris Anne
Beaulieu
     
https://www.youtube.com/user/Viewwithme


Details | Rhyme | |

pride

there across the wind
rides my silly pride

at times a sturdy arrow
at times a butterfly

how often i chose to follow
the path of the sturdy arrow
its landing was hard to find

however, when i chose to try
the path of the butterfly
never, was i too far behind


Details | Rhyme | |

Taxing Benefits

I met a Sheriff the other day.
Just teasing, I happened to say.
I am stopping by to pay my taxes.
Giving you my money before axes,

He said to me, “I get none of that money“.
I looked up in surprise, and thought, how funny.
He and many others forget our taxes pay salaries.
They work for us and their duties are in galleries.

Without working people to pay taxes, they would not be.
They forget these things after office acquired you see.
They pump us up upon the Election Day’s arrival.
Reinstatement in public office is part of survival.

We the people pay for their cars, meals, homes, indeed.
Our money than dispatched into the funds that do seed,
Without the people paying taxes, their jobs would recede.
We the people elect and pay wages, so justice will proceed.

However, many law officials take rules made for all.
Bending them to fit their need, in name of the law,
I have the utmost respect for officers on patrol.
They need to be cautious, to keep crime under control.

However, to break any law, for no reason at all, indeed.
Makes justice suffer, two wrongs make a misdeed,
Their pledge, for no reason at all to break their creed,
Serve and protect, without wrongdoing, as agreed.

An oath, I know they all take and so easily forget after.
Some upon that tomorrow, just ease back in laughter.


Details | Shape | |

The Narrow Path

                       The narrow path
                           to treason
                            is only
                            a word
                             away.
                           To falter 
                            in your 
                            reason
                          or explore
                        unauthorized
                           dissent.
                        To question
                      fearless leaders
                        or a decision
                      from the bench.
                      The narrow path
                          to failure,
                           oppose
                       the status quo
                          and down
                             you 
                              go.


Details | Verse | |

Ding Dong The Wicked Witch is Dead

Globally, miners jubilantly jump for joy
Smiles on the faces of every girl and boy
The grins of a newly opened Xmas toy
Thatcher’s dead.

Trade unionists bounce along the street
Music blaring and the tapping of feet
From nurses to Bobbies still on the beat
Thatcher’s dead.

Street parties announced in the nation
Satan who brought economic inflation
Is deceased, now’s the time for elation
Thatcher’s dead.

Its times like this I’m sad I’m an atheist
And can only shout and wave my fist
And then go to the pub and get pissed
Thatcher’s dead.


Details | Free verse | |

The Color Missing

The Color Missing
Red, black, and blue are the colors of our work pens. Red is the color of the blood we spill on other people’s mistakes.  Blue is the color of the songs we sing on tax forms or pay stubs- every page has a secret melody. Black is the color of the streets we fear most. Black is the color of our signature of approval. Black is the color of our death.

‘But what about the Green pens?’ I ask. They say ‘the ink is too hard to see.’


Details | Rhyme | |

The Last Laugh

One of Life’s indisputable facts:
Government reserves the right to tax;
And tho’ they waste far more than they should,
It’s supposedly done “for the common good.”

Economists use the word “propensity,”
Just a fancy word for “odds”, you see:
The odds you’ll save, the odds you’ll spend,
And how many Tax Dollars those odds will rend.

The basis for U.S. government budgets is “Total Tax Dollars Collected”;
And any overtures to reduce those collections are summarily rejected;
And should a source of taxes have declined or dissipated,
Other taxes are increased and/or new taxes are created.

Many, if not most, of these taxes are “regressive”.
That means their actual impact on income is “progressive”...
But “progressive” in a very negative way.
Relatively speaking, the Less you make, the More you pay.

Whether you make it or sell it, need it or want it, Congress will tax it;
And, once a tax is on the books, Congress has zero “propensity” to relax it.
Congresses, Federal and State, love to tax Luxury and Sin;
Smoking Sinners have had their taxes raised again and again and again.

Cigarette taxes are frequently raised, the “claim” is to drive users to quit;
But Truth is measured in Billions in taxes, so we know supporters are “full of it.”
Meantime, Non-smokers reap many benefits, while Smokers foot the bill;
And if that should change, Non-smokers would taste a financially “bitter pill.”

Taxed and taxed and taxed some more, but not yet into submission,
Smokers could shift their tax burden to Non-smokers…without their permission.
Yes, what if one Fateful day, those Smoking Sinners, Each and Every one,
Just put them down and said, “I quit.”; said en masse, “We’re done!”

Congresses would be clamoring to derive Billions in Taxes elsewhere,
At first, Non-smokers may not realize the impact they’re about to bear.
When an industry dies, businesses and people’s jobs are lost…it’s true;
But all those Tax Dollars must come from somewhere...the likes of me and you.

So righteous, whining Non-smokers maintained their hue and cry.
Ever pushing Congresses to tax those Smoking Sinners… tax them ‘til they die;
But after quitting, Ex-Smokers would pay less, while Non-Smokers would pay more.
Guess Non-smokers didn’t think far enough ahead, didn’t really know the score.

All those dreary anti-smoking ads, many of which falsified the cause,
Would disappear.  And what about all the useless anti-smoking laws?
Instead of Non-smokers not liking Smokers, Ex-Smokers would serve instead.
"The bastards are costing me money. I wish they had smoked 'til they were dead."

So, Ex-smokers would be getting healthier and spending far less;
And may be cause for some Non-smokers’ financial distress.
While they ruefully pay more, Ex-smokers' pocket books will attest
By reminding Non-smokers daily......the Last Laugh is Best.


Details | Quatrain | |

Women

You women
Know how to make 
The best of what you've got in you
You do it everyday in your life


Details | Light Poetry | |

Song of the Used Car Salesman

“Hello, hello Good Morning!” The salesman says, (though it’s actually late 
afternoon.)

(We can’t have them rushing off,) he thinks, (when I have cars to move!)

“See this little beauty…” (The side I’m leaning on anyway!)

“I’ve so many interested buyers, I’m sure, this car will sell today!”

The salesman sizes up the couple who clearly like the car.

“Zero to sixty in nothing flat!” (Though you may not get that far!)

“Previous owner? Took fine care.” (To wreck the interior in the rear!)

“Runs so smooth, purrs like a cat.” (But sticks when changing gears.)

The well learned smile, the soothing voice, the salesman sees his chance.

“Let’s step inside, we’ll work it out, my dears you can always finance!”

(The hidden costs, no don’t mind those, just the way it’s done.)

“Sure come on in, have a seat, this is when it becomes fun!”

As usual the costs are more than they think they can afford.

(Of course if we didn’t start out doubled, we salesmen would get bored!)

“Now look here it’s just a bit more, I know just how you feel.

With a car like this, I’m the one who loses. Believe me this is a great deal!”

(Yes indeed I lose this bucket of bolts I’ve had to push.

Never mind the oil leak, or the tires have turned to moosh.)

 “Well… because you seem so nice I’ll take this much off too.”

(There they are the happy smiles, too bad the jokes on you!)

The salesman he waves goodbye as the car drives off the lot.

Another couple, a little wide eyed, sees the new car in its spot.

“Hello, hello! Good afternoon!”(Sunset reflecting off of the wheel.)

“I’ve another buyer for this one but… you look nice, let’s make a deal!”


Details | Acrostic | |

Love came down at Christmas

L Long ago travelled Kings
O Opened their minds to prophecies
V Visiting from afar they brought gifts of Gold, Fracincense and Myrrh
E Eastern Star guiding them lighting the way

C Company of Heavenly Host
A Allelujah! Angels appeared to Shepherds, telling Savior born
M Manger for bed wrapped in cloths in Town of David
E Evangelically proclaimed Christ the Lord

D December 25th designated day
O On which we recollect
W Why/way Christ entered our world
N Nativity only part of His story

A A new testament
T Tells of new covenant between God and His people

C Christ's coming to Earth
H Hailed as new born King, Holy
R Risen Lord, righteous redeemer, 
I Intercedes for us as
S Spiritual Saviour to save sinners souls
T Time for Truth, Trust, Trinity
M Man's belief in God of Love,  
A As Father Son and Holy Spirit
S Shall be saved


Details | Light Poetry | |

ONCE AGAIN THANK YOU

I was just trying to remember the past
 trying to remember the good people
 and the bad people,
 that i came across on my way,

i want you to know
that you are among the good people
 that left a good trace in my life,

once again i just want to say thank you
for passing through my life,
is so short but is wonderful
i want you here forever.


Details | Acrostic | |

Reflections: Midlife Crisis

P     aranoia permeates, etching itself into your fractured face,
A     cacophony of constant pressure; life remains a stressful race,
N     othing to hope for, no positives like promotion in the workplace,
I      nability to love, relationships lift anchor and set sail without chase,
C     hildren crushing dreams under mortgages; age grows with disgrace
!!


Details | Alliteration | |

Fat Cats and Lawyers

Sharp Suited Sharks 
Feeding
Fervently Feasting, Foul Fiends 
Covetous Cuthroats, Cultured Convicts Convincing
Innocents Inked In Immensely Incurred Interests, 
Indebted
Enslaved, Effaced Emotions, Exasperated


Details | Free verse | |

Life in Cubicle

The Noose is tightening.
The 5’s and 10’s yanked from our hands and aching backs 
Are spent on band-aids:
A last stand effort to plug the holes in our hearts
When the price of drowning is only getting higher
So we turn to tiny acts of thievery
Taxes prettied up, cashiers uncorrected,
Stealing at the edges because we’re backed into corners, 
Corners
Glittering with promises corners
Dripping with possibility,
With Island resort wallpaper
Sold in bulk at Wal-Mart for
Profit: A trail of crumbs called America-
Which has curdled our souls and we love it!
And hate it and gossip about it and think obsessively about it and then
We find the most expensive friends our looks can afford,
Shopping for substance (50% off)
Staring through the eye of a screen 
Light speed in pursuit of heaven on earth (Ignore the plastic)-
Until pop!
We die of ADHD. 
Never having had the chance to smell the genetically modified roses.
Never having had the chance to see through this kingdom of ideas
As we served out our sentence to life in cubicle.

Jacob Reinhardt
10/24/2013


Details | Concrete | |

Patience

waiting in line
for long periods of time that seems like its dragging
as my patience is crumbling
my mind is slipping

i feel like its a crime 
to make me wait in line
as the line gets longer
i just wanna break down and cry

my patience is officaly gone
i can't wait any longer
if the line gets any more copious i think i will die
i rather just step out of line


Details | I do not know? | |

I Don't Care

I Don't Care...


I don't care,
if you're battered black and blue,

I don't care,
just as long as I can drink and screw.



I don't care,
if you've lost your damn job,

I don't care,
you're just a kernel off the cob.



I don't care,
when I see you begging in the street,

I don't care,
I get to suckle on capitalism's raw teat.



I don't care,
about the elderly, the poor, or the weak,

I don't care,
if the earth will be inherited by the meek.



I don't care,
if the climate is warming, I'm so much cooler,

I don't care,
in my penthouse I'm the boss, the only ruler.



I don't care,
for those rolling for scraps in the muck,

I don't care,

I really don't care, cos' I don't give a f**k



inspired by Bob Geldof's "The Great Song of Indifference"


Details | Couplet | |

The Library Man

How often do you visit the Library? And what do you see?
I see oceans and seas of books plus a homeless man doing zzz’s..
He’d apparently been reading before, he fell deep asleep.
He can stay there, they say, as long as he doesn’t lie down to sleep.
Sitting up is OK and of course, as long as he doesn’t create a scene.

He’s kind and gracious and a little strange but can debate any role
When he walked over, we had a talk about the devil verses mind control.
Without asking, what he really wanted was someone to buy him lunch.
There’s a McDonalds two doors down from where we were bunched.
I don’t know what I expected when he woke up and looked around.

But when I asked if he was homeless he wasn’t fazed at all.
Yes, I have been for a while, he said, but my boat will soon come in.
And I realized the library is a warm, safe place to relax and to be.
And the librarians seem content to just let him be.
In the end, I was sorry I couldn’t buy him that lunch.

But recently, my abilities to do so had become a little stretched.
I used to buy the books I read… now the library is more my taste.
I just hope if it comes to that… he’ll graciously share this place.
The library even has computers from where you could write.
And the people there are varied and really rather kind.

I’m on the edge but whole family’s once prosperous are already there.
Cheap hotel rooms in even cheaper hotels, once skirted are full.
The jobs don’t pay for anything more. They are: Bitter, Disgruntled, Lost.
Needed are better and more jobs to re-establish the American Dream.
To give them some hope so they can go back there again…
And don’t just act toward them… like they’re your library man…
Give them back their American Dream as best you can.

Voice of Reason Contest


Details | Alliteration | |

Banana Boat Bob

<                        Banana ~ boat ~ Bob ~ is ~ a ~ slippery..... Boob
                          Thought ~ that ~  this ~ town ~ lost ~ it's .... groove
                          No ~ spice  ~  no ~  life ~ no  .... nothing
                          Little ~ lost ~ boy ~ now ~ looks ~ for ~ his ~ Lucy's ....  ring


                          When ~ where ~ what ~ or ~ even ......  why
                          I'll ~ inquire ~ insist ~ innovate ~ or ~ even  ..... lie
                          His ~ history ~ of ~ having ~ such ~ big ....... hamstrings
                          Maybe ~ even ~ mighty ~ magical ~ musical ~ fruits ~ and .... greens



                         Or ~ having ~ big ~ over-sized ~ onions ~ olives  ~ and ..... Kiwi
                         screw ~ this ~ he's ~ scum  ~ skewered ~ tossed ~ back ~ to ... sea
                         Poor ~ precious ~ pretty ~  Lucy ~  got .......    pranked
                         Cause ~ curious ~ Bob ~ couldn't ~ control ~ love ~ so ~ he ....  sank

              

                        All ~ alone ~ and ~ now ~ very .... angry
                        Drowing ~ deep ~ in ~ own ~ do-do  ~ droppings .... whopie 
                        Luscious ~ Lucy ~ now ~ can ~ look ~ long ~ and ...... hard
                        For ~ another ~ fast ~ floating ~ free ~ salemens ~ not ~ selling.... lard



Entry For
Linda Marie's
Luscious Love Lingers Contest
G.L. All


Details | Narrative | |

The Weekend

I stood in front with a long red dress 
I wasn’t sure what to do 
I hadn’t planned on this, and took off my left shoe 
I wanted to jump on the tramp, but oh the mess 

Every person took their turn 
Lots even got a burn 
Some fell and got bumps 
Others made large jumps 

I waited for my chance 
Standing behind my hunky boy 
He sized me up and jumped on the toy 
Moving like a dance 

I separated my two feet 
And tied my skirt in a knot 
The skirt became pants and I moved to the spot 
I smiled and bounced on my seat 


Details | Rhyme | |

Nothing More Or Less

Millions of lives and souls untold
And to account it all
Words, lines, films
Imagination trims
A sliver of soft, scarlet ribbon
Hollywood rounds
Quills deliver
Writers flare with passion so strong
Filling minds with fantasies, reveries, histories
Tragedies
We consume it all like freshly baked bread
We feed until we are engorged and fed
A viral, universal mess
Ideas and unmade memories
Nothing more or less

My eyes remain glued to the screen
Living it all out
Tears dare to flow—to doubt
I should have thought of that
Can I truly let myself believe,
Someone else lived that!
Pound away your directors, script-writers, fighters
For miles and miles of stories remain unread
While the unknown remain in the grounds of humble malnourishment
Dead
Careers for the mind with a twist of the fable
Left us savage for the meal and the crumbs under the table
I can never let the raw truth rest
Naked, bare and empty—soothed
Nothing more or less

I cringed for originality 
Observed the world through the unedited scripts
The very act, the poetry pact
The wild animal drooling in the back
I was slapped in the face by my boss who had cracked
As the reviews bloated less and less
They wanted something awful, something flaw-ful—something new
And this empty brain in agony—HISSED 
I have lived in no epic battle of account
Of the collateral sufferings of my brothers
The stories the red carpet smothers
And still I ache to create
Before the other ones discover
I returned with ‘‘oh me’s’ and ‘oh my’s’’
With a work of pure genius—a storybook of lies
Nothing more or less

Little have I lacked to dream
Of contortioned pulls and dramatic fire
Stories that rarely brittle or tire
I fiddled with precious glass on edge
Foully eager for self-damage
As if it would trigger some legitimate spark 
Searching for creatures and features in the dark
No one unlocked the passage that night
For the starving idea-parched malice of right
But all welcomed with open arms
A pale mannequin filled with jewels and charms
Consuming, fuming dooming
All ghosts hoping, screaming, looming
Hoping that one day they would find themselves on the big screen
Their legacy real as it can possibly get
Nothing more or less


Details | Couplet | |

A Horse Of Course

<                                        Horses and snowflakes
                                   Illuminating to it's tongue's pallet's plate


                                              Open carriage rides
                                         Falling flakes in the eyes


                                             City strewn lights
                                  Hoof's echoing through out the night


                                             Fleece blankets
                                              Cider drank it


                                              Horns blare
                                              People's stare

                                             
                                        New York's Central Park
                                       An home for many after dark


                                         Four miles of bridal paths
                                    Drawn coaches to bring you back


                                          So horses and snowflakes
                                      Fills this ones poet's pallet's plate



Written By Katherine Stella
My Theme Was Both 
Horses And Snowflakes
This Is An Entry
For Constance ~A Rambling Poet 's ~ Contest
G.L. All
                                     

                                     
                                            
                             


Details | Free verse | |

A Costly Mistake

Contractual agreements with publisher caused DELETION


Details | Kwansaba | |

Shiny Minded Stone


"What's your story?"
she questions,
"you seem interesting."

wildflower eyes
                                                                                  ~SIDE-NOTE:  
I reply, "NOW."                                                                    (Kwan$aba! Ha! Really, 

often people become confused                                                    
by such a unique response                                                            
not this one...                                                                                
she's a beauty                                                                       
shiny minded stone                                                                  
lives warm under veins
lacks definition of alone

tho solo she stands
tallest green blade
unscathed
each time the oily blade passes above

erect 
she stays the same
tingling pulses exhale her pores
she'd rather sink
than have to think the way of worldly whores

still...
malice skips her
no ripples in the lake
dripping from her face
sunshine slips across tangerine cheeks

gold flows throughout waves 
streaming locks
sky clear eyes surprise those
choosing to be consumed 
by her entice

hands free of envy
no webs to spin
hips unmolested
thighs slick
turpentine

be warned
she will divide you
no voodoo 
or silly twisted games
though safe may escape you

blemish-less
untangled...
the girl
she
Goddess
baby of zero maybes
KNOWS....
how?
she knows

as clarity lent us its giant umbrella 
her lipstick smacked my tongue 
from there
we never looked back

~JSLaM


Details | Pantoum | |

Hey I Want To Play Too

<                                     office assistant she plays the role
                                       phones radio computer her job
                                       city county state as her clients
                                       trees animals traffic she responds
                                       phones radio computer her job
                                       spills decomposed flesh she acknowledges
                                       trees animals traffic she responds
                                       foremen walk in's to her no matter
                                       phones radio computer her job
                                       city county state as her clients
                                       spills decomposed flesh she acknowledges
                                       office assistant she plays the role
                                       
   


Entry For
Frank Herrera's
Sounds And Smells Contest
G.L. All


Details | Concrete | |

Observer

A serpent underneath blue sky,
in shade of man, in twinkle of an eye,
above brick wall, in the structure, at the floor,
venom of white dove; contaminated food, undrinkable water,
misguided youth, pregnant daughter, unfaithful father and hateful son,
mothers do pray while we walk through Babylon;
on teli and in the press, on top shells,
price none the less, in bedroom and at your door..
dawn of a new day seemed to be dark,
after all.


Details | Qasida | |

The Whirling Army

Beautiful scenery, rolling hills with craggy cliffs adorned with winter scrub clinging to impossible places. Narrow winding roads, leading somewhere, maybe nowhere, finding out when we get there. Rounding a bend just enjoying the scene, finding an eyesore almost obscene. In the ground in front, towering high a plague of of wind turbines I did espy.Not the Quixotic or Dutch that are nice. These huge monstrosities seem to crowd the very sky, killing birds by the score with their whirling wings. The race is on to harness the wind for soon the earth will cease to give up its treasure just so we can enjoy our leisure. Here rivers do not flow for most of the year and our  island needs power but not nuclear. So the turbines have come to march over the mountains like a white army of whirling dervishers that sadly will be the future, unless they can harness the suns free power much better.Time and nature will tell, if only we let her.


Details | Free verse | |

The City And The State Of Play Today

THE CITY AND THE STATE OF PLAY TODAY

No one worries about morals today 
They follow the rules they create
So to them all is ok
Those on the outside looking in 
Are the only ones feeling queasy 
As avarice and selfishness triumphs
So easily 

Good corporate citizens they claim to be
Industry awards abound on their walls
As thank you tokens from themselves
Yet society harbours a lot of ill-will
As it feels the often brute force of 
The raid
 Grab 
And destroy mentality
Of people only wishing to make money 
Any which way 
While Using up all of society’s communal resources

Sharks abound
The waters are forever bloody as they 
Know no fraternity and would gladly 
Cannibalize anyone with no influence 
The ability to upend competitors
A cherished characteristic 
In a bullish machismo drenched environment 

Bullet proof psyches
Absorb and repel any pangs
About unfairness
Blocking any regulatory or chattering classes’
Attempt at nirvana and equality 
They employ better paid lobbyist 
So always have the upper hand 
In influencing policy 

The gravitational attraction of money 
Towards another even bigger pot of money 
Numbs any cautionary instinct
That would take a long term view 
The thrill of instant riches
Overpowers common sense 
And even decency 
Fat cats they all wish to be 

The slickness of glossy tongued lobbyist
Who spin wrongs till they become rights
Embolden oestrogen low males with no inbuilt brakes
To take risks that eventually cost them disgrace 
They are champions of graft not of society 

Loopholes in legislation
That were built in by too friendly politicians 
Coupled with ambiguous suits and claims
Cause far reaching hardship when the good old days are long gone 
The villains only muster some phantom national pride
 When begging for a lighter sentence 
Some are forgiven
Others fatally wounded by an unforgiving public

Lots of money can be made both legally and illegally
As one racket is closed another materialises instantly
The conveyor belt of dishonesty
Overwhelms bureaucracy 
Who is not David to the goliath that is money

The ethos is wealth
The acquisition and the maintaining of gains
Not often acquired through hard work
There is no limit of acceptable financial comfort
For the millionaire always wants to be a billionaire
And the mega rich super rich

Money must always be hidden from the taxman
Shareholders want tax free dividends
Investors want tax breaks for buying with other people’s money 
Infrastructure and new runways must be built 
But not from the pocket of those who wish it 

With their hands outstretched
And always wanting more and more
From a government too eager to please 
We have a tax system geared to the advantage of party donors
And non-domiciled moguls and tycoons
Who know no philanthropy unless it is tax efficient 

Disadvantaging society by  
Never paying their fair and moral share 
The largess they reap so selfishly
They wish not to share 
Wages are low
Taxes are nil
Only the investor wins as we pay his bills

Fast paced expansionist dogma
Is preached within city limits
Only the highest paid
The biggest company
The greatest profits
Are allowed 
They are held up as ideals that all who
Wish to succeed must follow
Gunslingers they all appear to be
Rushing in to capitalize on the wanton success of their peers
The cloud of misery left behind 
Is never seen for the look forward 
Never backward 
Hindsight is never welcomed in this parasitic environment 

The political will to weed out these reckless demons
Is lukewarm at best 
The revolving door of government creating opportunities
For industry and industry gratefully accepting politicians post government 
Ensures that self-interest is king 

An economy built on flawed assumptions of wealth creation
Is one that must forever be in hyper-drive
Creating ever expanding demand and supply 
That is as real as a thief’s conscience 
When taking the rings off a dead persons fingers 

Money must always be made for 
There is no alternative 
Wealth is good
Poverty to them is laziness

The city is not the heart and soul
Of the nation
It is but one player in a system skewed in its favour
We all must share in the wealth of this country
To ensure its longevity  


Details | Limerick | |

Tone it down to ''at least for the duration''

Time does our earth presence sever
But the post office is clever  
And offers for sale
For its eternal mail  
A stamp that is good forever


Author's note: The idea that anything associated with this planet will be consumed "forever" is peculiar and laughable.  It is also destructive in that business holds the truth in shadows.


Details | I do not know? | |

Money

Sure it can live
No it cant feel
Something gives when the cream is real


Details | I do not know? | |

The Petty Posh-WahZee - Liberation and Ostentation



The Petty Posh-Wahzee - Liberation & Ostentation


The Not-So Distant Past:

The fallen fighters for freedom, are unable to turn in their graves,
their battered, fragmented bones, mixed with a handful of torn rags,
are all that remain, a mute reminder of their selfless valiant sacrifice.

They endured brutal Apartheid harassment, detentions without trial,
torture in the cells, and mental anguish when loved ones disappeared,
they left their homeland, to continue the struggle against racial bigotry,
while countless others fought the scourge of white-minority rule at home.

Nelson Mandela and many, many others, spent their lives imprisoned,
on islands of stone, and on islands of the cruellest torture, yet they stood,
never bowing, never scraping, they stood, firm for ideals for which they were prepared to die,

and many, many comrades did die, at the hands of the callous oppressor,
and many, many comrades perished in distant lands, torn from their homes,
while the struggle continued, for decades, soaked in blood, in tears, in pain.


The Present:

19 years have passed, since freedom was secured at the highest of prices,
delivering unto us, this present, a gift of emancipation from servitude,

a freedom to walk this land, head held high, no longer second-class citizens,
in the land of our ancestors, whose voices we hear and need to heed today.

I do not care much for fashion, Lewis-Fit-On and Sleeves unSt.-Moron,
yet the ostentation that I witness baffles even my unsophisticated palate,

our ancestors' plaintive whispers are being dismissed, left unheeded, as
we browse the aisles for more and more, always for more and yet more.

Asphyxiated by the excess of the Petty Posh-Wahzee, we find ourselves,
perched precariously on the edge, of a dissolution of all that is humane,

babies go hungry, wives are battered, our elders left in hospitals for hours,
I cringe as I scribble these words, perhaps too sanctimonious and preachy,

yet I know, deep in the marrow of my brittle bones, I know, I know, I know,
this tree of freedom planted by the nameless daughters and sons of Africa,

needs to be shielded, nurtured, protected from our very own baser impulses,
so that the precious tree of freedom, may bear the fruit that may feed us all,

for if not, then we are doomed, to tip over, and into the yawning abyss, we shall fall.