Best Brokers Poems
clad in rags, he wanders on Wall Street
he is invisible to hustling stock brokers
he is a man with no money, no property
a hapless struggler of excessive loan burdens
bitter winter winds blow across Broadway
he is invisible to affluent theatre-goers wearing warm winter coats
he is a man who watches them scurry past the cardboard box that is his bed
like a rain-dog, huddling in the shadows of alleys and doorways
he hears deafening explosions of New Year fireworks
he is invisible to the revellers
he is a man who cowers, recalling gunfire of a war he fought
echoing through his mind in restless nights
the incessant thumping of traumatic stress
he is invisible...a victim of post-Vietnam, Afghanistan and Iraq
who once bore a uniform and served his country with pride
he is invisible suffering alone, paying the price
through severe disabilities and permanent scars
with sadness, he watches voters going to the polls
he is invisible, a veteran with no voice in elections
he is a man who cannot vote without an “address”
a placard on a pavement might catch the eye
unemployed, homeless, unseen
but most of all forgotten
he is a man who seems invisible
but he is still a man
-------------------------------------------------------------
This is co-written by Paul Callus & Carolyn Devonshire
in remembrance of our war veterans.
[Published @ Muse to Move (A.P.F. Publisher UK 2017]
We had no hand in this rape of nature
Yet we will bear its full weight and measure
Can climate be sentenced to certain doom
Is there time to resolve its gruesome gloom
Don't dare ask us to deny climate change
We've dug a hole that we can't get out of
At the "climate mercy" from high above
Self-interest trumps the collective good
Tell the top players to do now what they should
Don't dare ask us to think or act short-term
Our little spades try digging us all out
As designer-suit dudes plow dirt round about
We dutifully sift through our own trash
So we make these moguls even more cash
Don't dare ask us to bow to huge profits
Those prominent peers, posers, pols and priests
They had their fair say and done their least
Fighting useless battles over oil sites
While we differ on clear-cut human rights
Don't dare ask us to reject world order
Elites hold the power and that is true
Puny results from what we folks can do
As much as we'd like to see it all stop
To fix this we must begin at the top
Don't dare ask us to back broken brokers
Seeing in stores all that shiny plastic
Vast plastic globs float in the Pacific
We drive plastic cars that are half the weight
With which green fuel is still under debate
Don't dare ask us to save our frail planet
Each ecosystem is interconnected
Rising like tides that are all effected
Now fires and storms rage behind a curtain
Weather is volatile and uncertain
Don't dare ask us to endanger species
Air, lands, waters hope for a better day
Some of earth's environs have lost their way
Without half our insects we must move on
The planet's trees are forever half gone
Don't dare ask us to fix this mega mess
Couplet 40 Lines 337 Words
George Orwell tried to tell 1984
but here's what 1984 told us
1984 was the year we had
The Terminator
the ultimate movie
about Artificial Intelegence
with the ability to travel through time
Today we have AI
Let me be the first to name it
The Terminator
It also has the ability
to pass through time
Soon there will be
no need for employees
No taxi drivers, no cashiers
No stock brokers, no managers
No teachers, No cops
No salesmen, No clocks
What need have we
for prejudice people
they only waste our time
Soon you won't
be able to buy or sell
unless you have AI.
Sweet song of humanity, play on
apparently, we still ain't gone
global catastrophe seems eminent
yet bars and parties are still prominent
a question of when, not if
that's what the epidemiologist insists
the bees have died
the brokers cried
but we play on
The God Reset
All Hail the mega-Temple brokers!
The Heavenly stock sellers
Chomping at the bit
Who parade in their Gucci suits
Escorting you comfortably
(like Kings)
Into “the Kingdom”come.
Beware:
Its a counterfeit kingdom
Not the real deal.
(Love money, much?
(Oh, but we won’t really actually tell you if we don't think you'd be a good “asset” in “our" Kingdom--)
They seem like they know something
You don’t know-- their words seem so godly,
Their knowledge of spiritual things so impressive-but then you hear them prognosticate:
“And did you know,
A ‘powerful message’ can be yours if you only throw
a few shekels our way today?”
(of course, they don’t exactly say it that way)
Coming straight from GD!
And advocate for a Kingdom that runs on cash.
They’ll happily seat you in
The First row,
Sell you a religious show,
Put the God mirror out in front
Of your sorry old face and sell
Repentance.
And then, when you repent, (properly and self-consciously)
they’ll grab you by the shoulders,
Hug you, and then ask you if you
Want to join the church...
“Looks like a Winner”, they silently intone, as you
Reach for your wallet.
Now they’ve sold you a
False Christ.
And you weren’t even in on the deal!
You thought you were sincere!
You didn’t sign up for a
Dead-end religion that would steal your
Joy, and maybe even your new-found love for GD-
You signed up for a
New Life.
Beware of the status-quo christians,
The little”c” christians
The walking dead,
Frozen Chosen
Lack of real emotion,
Preaching a gospel
Of “Cultural Churchianity”.
It’s not the real
thing-- the Christ-centered gospel that
Calls for a clean heart, and a
Clear conscience--
A gospel that has nothing to do with
The brand of your clothes, the number
Of dollars in your Bank Account,
The car in your garage, or the paid-off mortgage!
Wake up,
Heaven Brokers!
Your “stock” is rapidly falling,
And Christ is getting tired of calling
Cuz you hung up your gD- phone long ago,
When you let greed and fame
Consume your soul.
Looking at his house
He sees nothing special
A pile of wood and sheetrock
Bigger than others
But he owes more than it’s worth
His house is underwater
A term he doesn’t understand
In real speak the house belongs to the Bank
To the brokers and the lawyers.
Wanting a piece of the American dream
He misrepresented himself
Taking crumbs from the table
So to speak
Fudging a number here
Adding a zero there
The smart money said it was alright
Don’t worry they told him
Everybody’s doing it.
He and his wife were barely making it
Hoping just to hang in there
Things would get better
They kept telling themselves
But it was too good to be true
The economy went south
Things went wrong
Lost a job
The bills piled up
He and the wife stopped talking
Broke, he feels pushed aside.
There are two sides to every lie
And in this one
There’s a bill somewhere
That’s long overdue
And so my friend
It will have to be paid by me and you.
I - I will never accept hate speechs from fake moral hypocritical brokers
A - aiming, hoping, and wishing for a Nudist country
M - maybe not now, but someday it will come to pass
N - never will i be ashamed of my Naked body or stop promoting Nudism
U - until then i will keep, hoping and fighting the Nude fight
D - days are coming when Nudism will be a standard way of life for the world
I - interacting in tongues of poetry
S - someday i shall get to see a Nudist only nation
M - my poems shall sing in your heart when that day comes
IMMEDIATELY PLEASE REMOVE ALL OF MY INFORMATION FROM YOUR DATA
BASE FORTHWITH.
ALSO, ADVISE ANY AND ALL CONTRACTORS, SUB-CONTRACTORS, AGENTS,
SUB-AGENTS, AFFILIATES, PARTNERS, COLLEAGUES, ASSOCIATES, CLIENTS,
WEBMASTERS, WEB BASED LINKS, WINKS, TWINKS, SHRINKS, COLONEL
CLINKS, BOSSES, CO-WORKERS, EMPLOYEES,VENDORS, SUPPLIERS,
SALESMEN, ACCOUNT REPS/EXCS, ACCOUNTANTS, BROKERS, CO-BROKERS,
HACKERS, SLACKERS, WHACKERS, JERKS, SOLICITORS, SIDEKICKS,
COHORTS, WINGMEN, WHEELMEN, LOOKOUTS, OUTLAWS, IN-LAWS,
RELATIVES, FIANCES, BOYFRIENDS, GIRLFRIENDS, FRIENDS, FOES,
ENEMIES, EVIL NEMESIS’, DERELICTS, DEGENERATES, DOPERS, DEALERS,
TWEEKERS, GAMBLERS, RAMBLERS, CANVASSERS, INQUIRERS, QUEERS,
QUEENS, COWBOYS, KINGS, FAGS, DRAGS, HAGS, HETEROS, HOMOS, TONY
ROMOS, FEMALE IMPERSONATORS, [PRE OR POST] MALE IMPERSONATORS,
DICKS, DYKES, VAN DYKES, DICK VAN DYKE, LESBIANS, LONGSHOREMEN,
SHORTSHOREMEN, LIARS, BUYERS, CRYERS, CIGAR SMOKERS, CARPET
MUNCHERS, RUG RATS, TODDLERS, TEENAGERS, JUVENILE DILINQUENTS,
SENIORS, SUCKERS, TRUCKERS, MOTHER shut yer mouth, LAW MAKERS,
LAWYERS, ATTORNEYS, JUDGES, POLITICIANS, LEADERS, FOLLOWERS,
DISCIPLES, PROPHETS, EVANGELISTS, SAVIORS, SINNERS, SAINTS,
SOOTHSAYERS, MEDICENE MEN, GYPSYS, TRAMPS, AND THIEVES, WITCHES,
WARLOCKS, VAMPIRES, LYCANS, ZOMBIES, WAR MONGERS, PROTESTERS,
VIGILANTES, VICTIMS, SOLIDERS, GENERALS, GOVERNORS, PRESIDENTS,
PATRIOTS, PACKERS, LIONS, BEARS, BROWNS, BLACKHAWKS, REDWINGS,
RIGHT WING, LIBERALS OR LAW BIDING CITIZENS. THEY ARE NOT TO
CONTACT ME AND LOOSE MY NUMBERS.
BUT, IF YOU SEE MY MOM, TELL HER TO CALL ME.
BA-ZING!
?
clad in rags, he wanders on Wall Street
he is invisible to hustling stock brokers
he is a man with no money, no property
a hapless struggler of excessive loan burdens
bitter winter winds whip across Broadway
he is invisible to affluent theatre-goers wearing warm winter coats
he is a man who watches them scurry past the cardboard box that is his bed
like a rain-dog, huddling in the shadows of alleys and doorways
he hears deafening explosions of New Year fireworks
he is invisible to the revelers
he is a man who cowers, recalling gunfire of a war he fought
echoing through his mind in restless nights
the incessant thumping of traumatic stress
he is invisible...a victim of post-Vietnam, Afghanistan and Iraq
who once bore a uniform and served his country with pride
he is invisible suffering alone, paying the price
through severe disabilities and permanent scars
with sadness, he watches voters going to the polls
he is invisible, a veteran with no voice in elections
he is a man who cannot vote without an “address”
a placard on a pavement might catch the eye
unemployed, homeless, unseen
but most of all forgotten
he is a man who seems invisible
but he is still a man
*As we prepare to celebrate Veterans Day, I would like to thank Paul Callus
for co-writing with me. Our veterans deserve more than we can ever give them.
The Twenty First Century will be like no other.
For millennia the human race experienced glacial progress forward.
Generation after generation pretty much the same.
Then slowly at first things began to change.
The Bronze Age, the Iron Age, jump to the Industrial Revolution and now the Technological Revolution. The pace of progress has been speeding up, soon it will be moving at light speed. A compression point will then be reach when
this light speed of change causes a paradigm shift for humanity. Our differences will melt away as not relevant in the new reality. Power brokers will loose control of the buttons and levers they use to control. Humanity writ large will be calling the shots. Institutions of "influence" will be swept away. Greedy power merchants swept away,
never to be seen again. Poverty and illness, swept away. The roller coaster ride is upon us.
Buckle up, it's going to be one hell off a ride.
You marketing types love us.
Blue all over, fear of nothing a man can throw,
Quick to bow down when the boss come by...
not the one paying me....,
but the one who rules my roost.
Day breaks looks nice,
especially because the roads aren't covered and filled with the yuppie douche bag lawyers, bankers and brokers all on phones missing the opening of the days first gift.
you know these soft handed men!
Your commercials applaud our ethic,
our muscles,
our attitudes,
our jacked up 4 X 4
Our dick swinging genuflection to manhood's blue collar ways.
Toughness is forged by the cold weather winds,
Sun baked and burned backs,
Red tipped noses from over drinking the days end the night before
while being educated at H.K.U.
Not Hong Kong University...its Hard-Knock University
We learned in fields where sweat meets will
'cuz you cant fail.
Blood and callused hands complete the job,
the well,
the pipeline,
the boat,
the building,
Grown in fields of corn,
on oil rigs surrounded by the deepest blue oceans,
as blue as the collar around the neck.
tight, knowing there is nowhere else to go
and nowhere you would rather be.
Women feel the attraction, and we see it in your eyes...
Awakening the primal sense in you. The roughnecks and dirt covered crew.
You know your manicured husband just don't have this....or could do that!
You may want a well put together,
prepared and pampered over,
buffed and polished man,
but your desire fixates on men in blue who can do it all,
from fixes of the sink,
to kissing you tender pillow top lip,
Big and small, blue collard boys do it all!
Oh yes, the college girls
come and go
speaking of Ani De Franco.
And yes, I too
measure out my days
with coffee spoons,
a hundred years later
and nothing has changed,
only the numbers of the dead
and the deranged
have increased exponentially
with deadly technology.
Like the Caesars of old
the power brokers of now
stamp out the vestiges
of an older order.
And yes, i sit like an elderly sentry
on the cusp of two centuries
and views of the world expecting
nothing better
than what has come before.
And yes, oh yes, seeing the gullibility
and the tomfoolery
of a world where you can be convinced
with very little effort
that up is down and that
right is left holding the bag repeatedly
and speaking ever more deletedly
to fewer and fewer ears.
What has changed?
What has changed except the names
used to describe the same old games
of a gang of aggressive primates.
Some are cannon fodder
used to divert the lion
and parade and preen
when they are lucky to escape.
Some are keen
to produce more spawn
so that we can do the same
old con again.
Some are at the center
protected and gifted
by a willing populace,
unwilling to risk
their own neck
as long as some one else will.
And some, with rolled up trousers
sit on the edge knowing
what is right
but lacking the will
to say so
and creating for ourselves
the post of sentry
to ease the burden
of a nagging conscience.
Just sitting here
watching the college girls
come and go
speaking of Ani DeFranco.
Somewhere in this world today,
An addict will quit drugs or alcohol.
In a Recovery Program, or try his
own way.
I know it's so cool to have a loser
around.
But give it up, folks, many sober
people abound.
You don't know them because they act just like you.
They don't brag about the gift
of being substance free!
They are teachers, doctors, lawyers, brokers.
So stop sneering when you see
an addict.
Many are more sober and way famous far more
than me or you.
So instead of giving up on a helpless bloke,
Say a prayer that they will be saved and remember..
"There but for the grace of God, go I!"
And that, my friends, is no joke!
September 17, 2020
5:15 am PST
I spill my heart,
I spill my guts,
And you may ask,
Why all this fuss?
Owners Selling Dogs,
Owners Selling Guns,
Oh there is more,
And it's been great fun.
Day after day, month after month,
Countless are the hours I spend,
To create this behemoth,
Seemingly to no end.
Owners Selling Cars,
Owners Selling Trucks,
Oh there is so much more,
But I'm having no luck.
So to you I turn,
To seek your advice,
Do I have more to learn,
Or will this suffice?
Owners Selling Motorcycles,
Owners Selling Motorhomes,
But one thing I just wish is,
I didn't have to do this on my own.
No brokers, no dealers,
No agents or salesmen,
You'd think that clients,
Would now be rushing in.
Owners Selling Businesses,
Owners Selling Real Estate,
Look and you will find,
The greatest I could create.
So if you have the time,
To surf the net some,
Check out my sites,
And just add dot com
Owners Selling Boats,
Owners Selling Land,
Please just take a look,
P.S. I'm the salesman.
Around the floor in tatters lay
Discarded tickets strewn
The bell to mark the end of
day
Brought closure to the gloom.
At half past nine the mighty
bull
Charged in with a mighty roar
Unleashing a surge of buying
power
Heard on every Wall Street
trading floor
The news of a rising market
spread
Like wild fire on the tape
Phones like up like Christmas
trees
Get in now, don't hesitate
But at two pm the sleeping
bear
Was roused from a restless
sleep
Slower than expected retail
sales
Sparked a precipitous
downward creep
By three pm the damage was
done
And hope was quickly fading
As brokers hands were
securely tied
By automatic computer trading
Now all we could do was sit
and watch
An algorithmic trading system
Meticulously hit every spiraling
bid
Absent old fashioned broker
wisdom.