Best Exploitation Poems
A careful constructed system
that’s designed to lead to failure
few escapes, leaving the rest
to be taken advantage of
those who escape
reaches a certain level
then prey on the weak
by selling hopes and dreams,
hope and dreams
that rarely come true.
The game is being sold as
the truth remains concealed
while those continue to profit
off the ignorance and the pain
emotions get exploited,
generating energy curren-cy
that keeps the system employed
as it thrives on the sufferer.
Extortion and manipulation
hijacks the mind, turning
you into willing participants
of your own torment,
creating a tyrannical force
that’s impossible to beat.
Free-will in disguise is a
predetermined force
coering you to endure in
a careful constructed system,
a system that’s designed
to maximize human suffering.
Dams, mining, extraction and fracking!
Logging, trawling, oops this urban expansion!
Plastic, toxic sludge and fertilisers,
Industrial revolution, Mass production!
Rising pollution and depleting fossil fuel.
Expanding population, you greedy humans!
Squeezing nature and melting glaciers
Chocking gases creating Climate conundrum.
Speeding extinction, your helpless restrictions.
Destructing ozone layers, eroding my very foundations!
The earth in pain whispers to me:
Why are you causing this depredation?
Look at my dereliction!
Please stop this destruction.
WHISPER TO ME Ii CONTEST
Sponsored by: Regina Riddle
Date: 14th June; 2020
Crows' feast
a good job, farmer
he prepares dinner for us
let's toast and eat it up!
Farmer's moan
they appear from nowhere
steal my seed mercilessly
fruitless my labour
Wind whistling,
Snow glistening,
We try not to,
But we're all listening.
Loud screams,
Bad dreams,
It's very far,
But close it seems.
Sad day,
Lost our way,
All we can do,
Is simply pray.
Innocence gone,
Life no longer long,
We may not know,
But we're all doing wrong.
Joy lost,
The Holocaust,
We look to see,
Hearts covered in frost.
Wars fought,
Sins taught,
Making mistakes,
Hoping not to be caught.
Not taking blame,
Pushing for fame,
As advanced as we are,
We're still all untamed.
Too much pride,
Needing a guide,
We will deny it,
But behind lies we hide.
Hurting others,
Betraying brothers,
Many forgetting,
To appreciate mothers.
Lies are fed,
Filling heart and head,
Through all of these years,
Innocent blood has been shed.
Children abandoned,
Lonely and stranded,
We're all wasting the life
That we have been handed.
Taking from the poor,
We're loving no more,
Fight to be free,
End up starting a war.
People starting fights,
No longer enjoying the sights,
While mere mortals are taking
Our God given rights.
Soldiers killed,
Void can't be filled,
Pay close attention,
For pure souls have been tilled.
Need to find peace,
Work together like geese,
But greatest of all,
The hate needs to cease.
This poem is not meant to be a speech nor is it written to offend or give anyone blame.
It just a mere observation of how today leaders choose to bring civilasation back into the slave trade.
What a confusion of misconception when one term is mistaken in conversation.
Horrors of slavery now waterdowned for modernization.
Underpaid abuse workers identified as no different from mass excavation from African nations.
How can slavery still exist when slaves broke the law back then.
And now modern slaves can use the law to protect them
Still we debate how to eradicate slavery.
Without the admittance of our desrire for more for less
Still we debate, but not on how propaganda can work for our interest.
How can shackles and chains, branded and slained
Be compared to smuggle and threatened, low pay and mistreated.
Imagine generations of babies born into slavery with no prospect of ever knowing anything different
Imagine seeking refuge, better life but being tricked into cheap labour.
Absolute sub human bondage that we wont tolerate for our wildest of wildlife
Force to work long hours with minimum pay so stakeholders can get their share.
Cotton picker slaves, plantation slaves, breeding slaves, game slaves under institutions designed to seek maximum gained whilst inflicting maximum pain.
Started out seeking refuge and a better life but conned into taking a different path of trouble and strife.
Sold to the highest bidder in auction houses, record kept for compensation and ownership.
Smuggle underground,whilst living next door in total hardship.
Nowadays, topic,how to end modern day slavery.
Back then was how to universaly enforce it.
Nowadays slavery,redemption and even compensation.
Back then not even criminalization only normalisation.
Slavery means seveitude multiply by desititute then magnify it by four hundred years equals privileges with blood stain riches.
Exploitations means, starting with gratitude trick into solitude minus Non Gratis equals affordability without resposibility.
Please stop trying to rewrite history with mystery
Inorder to patronized your higher devious morality.
The poor become rich, a dream come true,
But as they climb the ladder, they start anew,
Acting just as the rich had done,
Exploiting others, their power now won.
For in this society, there's always a game,
Someone on top, and someone to blame,
The cycle continues, a never-ending tale,
Of the rich getting richer, and the poor always frail.
When God declared man the master
of creation
I don't think he said
Go and kill everything that breathes
All I see is carcases of elephants
And rhinos
And a.million tusks being burnt to
ashes
Hunters with arrows for buffalo
meat
Poachers with rifles shooting
ranchers
For ivory
For export to Vietnam
And farmers chopping trees
For charcoal
And expansive cropping
Dried up streams
And empty skies
No strong roots to stop erosion
anymore
No wild berries for birds anymore
Where did all the green go?
Who stole our animals from the
zoo?
How many trees did you plant this
year?
I see El Nino storms,
Is that Mother Earth dropping a
tear?
Is she grieving
At the cruel hand of man's
exploitation?
INFERNO
As I watched from far away,
Under the sun sending down its rays,
Not willing to stare any longer,
And about to find my way out,
I noticed the earth trembling,
Followed by a cacophony,
Temperature rose in a flash,
Behold it was a volcano,
Red molten flowing down from its cone,
Arable down destroyed,
The reddish molten was like blood,
Blood of Slavery.
When will hearts of men be one?
Being different from none,
Humans being callous to another,
For exploitation of others,
Like a lion that turneth not away from its prey.
Captured with alluring promises,
With goodies and pleasantries,
Men became victims of circumstances,
Minds anticipated life with good fortunes and feature,
But least they never knew,
That their thoughts were all fiction.
Disastrous like a sirroco,
Blew the winds of the deserts,
Their human nature became weary,
Without any proper attention given,
Covering many miles,
Of which some lost their lives.
Seeing the anguish of men,
I rhapsodised about the fate of lives,
That were experiencing onslaught,
My heart was deeply exasperated,
Seeing how lives were siphoned like liquid,
The famished ones died away,
And the sands of the desert buried their bodies.
On the Mediterranean they voyaged,
Endangering lives of youthful age,
They were like unpreserved cabbage,
Experiencing the sporadic fierce tempest,
The extreme cold nights,
Accompanied with empty stomach,
Leading their skin to take the hue of an oak,
In juxtaposition with a mahogany.
Nostalgic feelings came,
The care and love shown to them at home,
Created in their hearts a hole, Which can only be filled by hope, Their condition was like perdition.
ANYABOLU IFEANYI GENTLE
I'm so sick of all the judgment,
And all the heartless discrimination,
How can they express deep hatred?
Seriously, weren't they simply educated?
My heart breaks for the judged,
I will never be that cruel,
For I was raised so different,
Understanding and frugal.
It gives me extreme displeasure,
Watching the damn news station,
People so caught up in their pride,
Turning this world, full of nasty infestation.
Soaring in the skies,
I can smell all the hatred,
Contributing to the hurting,
So awful and unsacred.
I've heard of so many killings,
Living a little north of Detroit,
All because they are who they are,
How dare they exploit!
All I can do is preserve my faith,
Use my kind and giving heart,
Living my life the way I do,
Hoping lives don't turn out scarred.
Exploitation
Exploitation - that’s the name of the game
Exploitation- Just so much total pain
Should be torture, criminality
But no never – not when it’s done to me.
A whole life lost
With no way out
That it’s so wrong
There’s just no doubt.
Not quite perfect
Not good enough for them
As image means everything
To these particular men.
Because I’m old, fat ugly,
I don’t stand a chance
They will not let me be myself
Refusing me romance
So I do it all – EVERYTHING,
Then it’s stolen
And they say
It’s not a sin.
It's all shared out,
Between my 'friends'
So they wont tell
How bad it ends.
My mind plundered
My heart broken
Just how much
Remains unspoken.
When is a crime not a crime?
When it’s applied to me.
Even though they have it all,
They still won’t set me free.
FREEDOM OF SPEECH - FREEDOM OF THOUGHT - FREEDOM OF EXPRESSION
AN END TO REAL SLAVERY
We first met when I was young.
Curious, expectant, open-minded
We explored each other freely,
Communing face to face
Sharing everything
Seeking each other's company, together
Under the open sky.
Middle aged we met again.
Striving, over-reaching, exploitative
We looked to our own advantage.
Stormy clouds gathering
On the horizon,
Presaging dangerous times ahead of us
Under the threat'ning sky.
Now I am older I see her
Dull-eyed, disconsolate, all too aware
Of what we were and have become.
Her cycle confused,
Stripped bare, ripped apart
Craving to be isolate, for solitude
Under the darkened sky.
She will still be there when I go.
Forgotten, unrecognised, unaware
Of what we once had and had lost.
Her nature restored,
Newly clothed, new born
Thriving in her renewed joy in life
Under the spring sun sky.
Baudrillardian Echo
I awoke this morning with a profound vision of a painting.
A sort of Baroque ensemble of consequence, still lingering.
I've put it to pen, since it's quicker than painting.
The contortion of life via exploitation, from sacred to the profane.
Inside the frame:
Hills roll from back to foreground.
Three groups in the fore.
First from left also starts the hand of time.
Here some people admire the warmth of the sun, kissed by the rays.
Peaceful, unadultered, not yet restrained.
Drawn across the scene, and years have unravelled between them and these, where others sip wine.
Enrolled in playful acts of elation.
Seeing the reward natures vines of harvest provide them.
No longer new.
Able to take advantage of balmy days.
That romance of the past becomes a backdrop to the history of today.
In the lowest right of the work, barely within the frame.
A darkened coloration of auburn, perhaps a trees shade.
A wizened few smoke-rounded, toke in orchestration.
Contriving and prioritizing alternative ways.
There but not present.
Daydreaming our dreams of past days away:
''To live most natural was to imbibe from the elements of nature.
To desire was to co-opt, to milk, to press grapes with others.
But to groom, to groom the weeds of the idle...'' Think industry men.
Striving to lay ownership of all in front of them.
Outside of the frame is the simulacra.
The fought rights of the worker became frayed.
We peddle our fortunes, distracted with nonsense.
Killing ourselves to capture something.
All of the while, running away.
Business as usual, each to their own.
Ignoring the troubles that lead us astray.
Now, we metamorphose love into self-loathing.
We synthesize the serotonin.
The narrow space between us and the painting, no longer here; nor yet there, was when we had it best.
Was that the end?
Is there something so unique about us
It must be studied
Rats in a maze
Trapped between testing success and error
Predictable responses to critical impetus
The same trickery carefully edited
For the next information gathering phase
Caught between a fortune and a failure
Rats in a maze
The monkey in a box
Predictable programming for gaining essentials
Problem solutions for subsistence
Collecting data for analysed survey's
Finding ways to unpick the locks
And use this predilection
Towards abusive human exploitation
The rights of rats are insignificant
The plans of tyrants prove their competence
THE EYE WORLD EYE LAW
In yet another human experiment
Insignificance
The monkey in a box
A slow unravelling of features
And personality on the mountain slopes
By play between clouds and Sun
Two hours of matchless play
My heart in a body paralyzed
Such is a place I came to stay.
At the very edge of vision on a mountainscape
Silky white sheets of snow on display
I cannot make out the colours of today
Somewhere the menancingly dark
Nearer me a downy grey
I wondered what ahead lay.
The covers came over and down all day
Pine trees never to be sun-burnt
Deforestation to aforestation
Many many young pine tree plantations
Roots lying exposed on damaged earth stations
Pining baby pines
21st century victims of re-exploitation.
The story of exploitation,
A tale as old as time,
The poor stay poor, the rich get richer,
A never-ending climb.
Artificial stories and ways,
To indulge the poor and waste their days,
Entertaining distractions to keep them down,
A sad truth, in every town.
The rich make the rules, the poor obey,
No matter what they do, they can't escape the fray,
Trapped in a cycle of poverty and pain,
With no hope of breaking free again.
But one day, the poor may rise,
Their voices heard, their will to survive,
A force to be reckoned with, a power to behold,
No longer will they be bought and sold.
The story may change, the ending yet to be told,
But until then, the poor will always be poor,
And the rich will continue to get richer,
Exploitation, a never-ending lore.