You bankrupted us thrice
and closed our Libraries and pools
You created a property portfolio
and played speculation
Now you leave chasms in the town centre
Croydon do we deserve Labour ?
You compulsively bought houses
and turned them into flats
not respecting green uniformity
just a by word for affordability
The Party machine spins unapologetic
Croydon I feel very low
You played Russian roulette
and can't tell the truth
Croydon of now is very unflattening
She was a country
bewildered by 14 years of decline
Bankrupted Councils
because of public cuts
now face council tax surcharges
The national NHS floundering
the beggars on the street overwhelming
A human face seemed to be bypassed
knife crime out of control
boat refugees thwarted
in hotels
Rwanda a breach of the ECHR
Some grow big bellies
in front of the tele
idle and fuming
small minds never see big pictures
Now I do confess
bombing women and children
is not Biden's best moment, a failed test
nor all democracies of the west
Anyone is better than
an orange criminal with no morality
he has bankrupted himself, a plenty
Id not give him the keys, the pantry raided empty
As far as the Union, I must confess
before Biden, my net worth was a palsy seventy eight million
now is one hundred twenty four million and counting
a dilemma for sure, at what cost, I must address
I'd give it all away, if we stopped the bombs, the duress
Chicago's new mayor just proposed
another plan to put a heavy load
on us beleaguered taxpayers --
We'd better start saying our final prayers
'Taxpayer-funded, government-owned grocery stores'
our communist mayor says, while the city council snores...
What bankrupted Russians is 'sure to work here' ~
from the same folks who brought you cannabis racketeers
hoardings of shops on the isle of ridiculousness
the feral pigeons pontificate
the leaking roof of the civic theatre stays
you've seen better days
you've blundered into desperation
bankrupted twice
and now you're turning the middle
of town into millionaires row
ill afforded by the minions
even our local Market is shrinking
an ebb tide of the municipality
Westfield as vexing as a fox in chase
The Central library feels lobotomised
is it part privatised?
Indisputably bankrupted deux times
boardings on stalled windows
Recession unproofed
bundles of betwichted people aloff
clumsily lost Waitrose
and still the Fairfield roof leaks
Queens gardens is no longer bespoke
its tenable for climbing children
We've still not lost the war
culture exists
and I'm eternally grateful
Poets Anonymous
and Poets hour at the library
provides the same echo
of the past
Streets are long,
here where the town shifts into
linear ranks of commercial blocks
out-pacing the moving cars.
This is America most everywhere.
All that can be seen from a car screen
lays its naked desires out
in the pale meat of the indiscrete.
Strip Malls blot a Lego landscape,
corrosive ribbons stretching on
to a somewhere just the same.
Nail salons and 'gentleman's' clubs
signs of a bankrupted and built-in
redundancy.
An undertone of yellowing urinal reek.
This dream we made to be us,
always finding what we seek.
Please stand by for this important announcement
Of news you’ll most assuredly not want to miss
A newsworthy, earth-shaking pronouncement
More startling than your first unexpected kiss.
Your favorite television program is interrupted
Just when you’re about to watch Final Jeopardy,
You’d think the U.S. government was bankrupted
By the sound of the announcer’s anxious perfidy.
Instead, there’s a tennis player who’s deported
From Australia, his name you never heard before
Seems his lack of a vaccine he too openly sported
Forever, hereafter, he’ll never again be obscure.
All you wanted to know was who won Jeopardy
You had waited all day long for today’s show,
For you faithfully watch your program daily
To see the champion trivia winner’s earnings grow.
written January 18, 2022
Corruption and Covid 19 both a virus raiding our planet,
Only socialism works as in Finland in Scandinavia,
Realistically corruption has bankrupted countries, quad tripled poverty
Ruined our God given bountiful earth, brought it to its knees
Utopia that is just a mere word no country has it,
Perhaps Iran and America will go to war and we get caught in the middle,
This corruption has become insane, Russians itching to do the same,
Integration of all colours creeds and nations essential, poor and wealthy alike
Only severe repercussions will result if we don’t take action now,
Nothing seems to erase this filthy greed which has become so obtrusive.
Entering Competition: Any Acrostic Poem
Sponsor : Line Gauthier
Date 013/04/2021
Very soon marmosets and moose
will get their vaccines.
A lone gnome fishes in a Koi pond.
The light of the moon
has been dimmed by a Chinese switch.
Elite bands of cockatoos
fight for free speech, but just for themselves.
Preening jackasses bray in the green rain
and the songs are all the same.
A fearful old man stammers in the dark.
So far the greater apes are in ascendance
however, a turtle and trumpet alliance
has formed a combo of resistance.
Four masks a day and a cup of instant propaganda
keep us hiding behind a surreal subterfuge.
Afghan warlords wander empty streets
handing out relief packages.
Birds rent-out tree space to killer bees.
Belfry’s are bankrupted by fleeing bats.
Harpies and stool pigeons
turn in their stools for further interrogation.
King Kong whimpers inside a skyscraper closet,
too shy and lonely now
to swat even the smallest of biplanes.
His thoughts a noose round the neck
That betrays progress into better ray,
Prisoner self-chained to surreal wreck
Of diamond burdens beyond their say.
His pulses another swift drift away
From lanes of wit and clear sense;
Obstinate caudal slip in weird sway
Toward gaols well inevitable hence.
His bias-bankrupted soul's whims
Far defy practicality and her gists;
Tagging kettle black as old pot dims
In his eyes its erst death-dark twists.
His lobe preened to nab things null,
Throbs to tap vocular waves vacant
As shards of a myths-neutered skull;
More void and louder than airs want.
And his appetites stirred wild like tides
Over tempestuous seas wayward spill;
Milk's cream along filthy paths guides,
Honey's decoys his glances snare still.
In a back room in downtrodden and sleazy Manila
On the table cards money and a bottle of Tequila
Fortune lay in the hands of Jose the crooked dealer
Had piercing eyes and a nose like a broken tortilla
As if he had been groomed with a potatoe peeler
Always had an ace up his sleeves this amazing dealer
But to even the game his foes applied silicon sealer
To his coat and bankrupted the dishonest stealer
He found his comeuppance and glue was the healer
Gone were his days as slick professional concealer
He now resides in a prison cell in a disused castilla
Bread and water for him and no more grenadilla
30th December 2019
The charlatans bankrupted
his checking account,
but his love was not overdrawn
Each check that he wrote,
each choice that he made,
trading ingots for righting a wrong
With credit denied
and spirit affirmed,
he continued to endorse what was real
Until bankers and lawyers
destroyed with one stroke,
his wishes—their power to steal
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)
With so many black and white
divisions, how many of us are willing to take a photo with someone of other?
The majority will raise their hands, but show
me a photograph with us cheek to cheek,
skin on top of skin, and that is when real healing will begin. Don't say you love me,
if you aren't willing to let the essence of who we are blend.
We are a bankrupted people. Financed by our prejudices. Sell me on the idea of how rich we could be, by you touching me. You can not know me, if aren't willing to hold me. Sometimes I wish we could have a black and white affair. Your skin and mine.
Foregone is my freedom
My future and it's conclusion
My most detached relationship
To myself now subject
To scathing privately
In installments with you.
Now I confided
“He tends a garden”
How was I to express
Without existential anguish
This irrational leap of faith?
Subjugated or subsidized
It bankrupted my reason
So far-gone was my longing
I was invited to a task.
My lesson was to refute life.
Something I had
Already accomplished.
So I confided.
“He tends a flower”
Half-witless or absent minded
I felt no connection
To your thankless doctrines
And I waited patiently at the end
Of whatever road I had taken
For my choice attendant.
And I confided
“He tends to Petunia”
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