Best Fetter Poems
We were told at a young age,
capitalism is long-term better
Got the short end of the slave trade,
now everyday I’m feeling fetter
Working the industrial fields,
come rain or shine
Breathing factory fumes that kill,
half-life expectancy
was the pyramid pay
for toiling overtime
Blue shirts keep giving us eclipse hearts
the undertaker blues
Blue steel love sending to the black veils
more barrel bad news
Shooting galleries on display
on the downtrodden side of the stacks
Hopelessness is the drug
that provides
the fleeting freedom we daily lack
We were told at a very tender age,
capitalism is so much better
Got the debtor deal of the slave trade,
now everyday I’m feeling fetter
Heard whispers of an emancipation
given many moons ago
But invisible chains left us shackled
to the market ebb and flow
Unpaid wages of labor
lends unto itself
plenty of poverty pain to promissory borrow
Practice hate thy neighbor,
preach usury stealth
Ivory towers never expect a darker tomorrow
Bred to be sold like cattle head,
let the coin decide the cull
Oh how the runaways be ballot led
to the anchored end of the hull
We were taught at a garden paradise age,
capitalism is Adam splitter better
Got the chain reaction part of the slave trade,
seems everyday I’m feeling fetter
Waves and waves of tears
fall to the barren ground of our captivity
An aching need for amnesia
to heal our collective bound memories
Harrowing echoes of the plight of the damned
cascade across the ocean of time
Doors of opportunity always bar code slammed,
our genetic number wasn’t prime
This telltale sin
was mercantile written
on our unlit skin
Degradation was the scarlet letter
given to our kin
We were told at an innocent age,
pure capitalism is soul profitable better
Yet, we got the least end of the slave trade,
and every hollow day I’m feeling fetter
07-22-21
Peep this boo message,
if you dare ...
Keyhole knowledge
of what cha’ see-hear
might give you a fetter scare
It’s best not to wanna know,
if you can’t handle
forced transportation
Or cruel subjugation,
by way of
cattle prod relocation
This kinda fetter knowledge
ain’t good,
if you got a
bad heart condition
Seriously wounded pride
can make an injured self-esteem die
Make it go to the fetal prone position
‘Cause everything you wanna do,
you gotta infantile ask for permission
With eyes downcast
(echo this boo thought)
in the womb of freedom sought
With eyes downcast,
it’s doubly tough to keep hopes up
Makes it hard to see
thru the keyhole
into the library space
of your oppressor’s soul
That sacred temple place,
where a taught conscience ought not
be bought or sold
And moneychanger practices
is the cranial golden idol
Chains invisible (of the morally lost)
can now be foundry seen
taking silver tether control
And the mind is a terrible thing
to have compassion melted
in a covetous mold
~
This better fetter knowledge
is a secret apothecary commodity
And it don’t come incensed free
Keyhole peeps can be
back lash costly
Philistine brand iron mercy
Keyhole peeps
of unlocked vision can be
User sight unfriendly
Can you pay the Samson fee?
So peep this boo message,
if you dare ...
I just pray tell,
that you’re not easily
lynch scared
I say: "Good morning everyone",
Turn on the light. The morning sun
Will never choose to greet this place
Of greed-trapped minds and sheer disgrace.
Some beer into inner space
To sink reality for instance
Is just the way of my resistance
Within this suffocating maze.
The fussy crowds in hurrying trams,
The same old streets, the traffic jams
Are too disgusting for my eyes -
They seek lush colors of surprise.
My heart's a rose yet to bloom,
And all it needs is Heaven's cater,
But I will never break the fetter
Of northern winds and autumn gloom.
You want two coppers,
and many golds,
and many more diamonds,
what for?
will you eat them,
you may wear them,
but for how long,
and to what avail,
you might sell them,
get money,
what would you do with money,
you can eat only as much as you want to,
you can live only in space required by your cubic feet,
you can wear better,live better,
but how do you define better,
is it really better,
or just a mental fetter.
Autumn recites poetry to the manless meadow.
Switch off the light for the morning sun to bestow.
Nevermore will I impanel to greet this location.
Of greed-stricken brains and utter humiliation.
A few sips of soft drink into outer space.
To submerge the truth of the matter, for instance.
Is emphatically my strategy of permeability.
Somehow in this suffocating world fantasy.
My heart is a flower that has yet to bloom.
With frigid north winds and dreary fall gloom.
The picky masses crammed into rushing cars.
The same auld roads, the same auld traffic scars.
Exploring the changing hues of the leaves in the fall.
Broken pieces of golden light and low cloud squall.
Smells akin to a campfire on an autumn night.
The land is lit by an oak tree sunbeams light.
She wore her art in socks and mittens at first
But then she began designing her t-shirts, and even worse…
She decorated her lampshades, or maybe, even better
No one’s house looked like hers, Mable P.T. Fetter
She is odd some said, but they were not friends of mine.
I thought her colorful things were mighty and fine.
Spent time with her, listening to stories that were colorful too.
She was not the norm, so now, wouldn’t you?
addicted to a scent
we once granted consent
enmeshed us in confines of time
deadening sentience to our inner chime
self-blocking the influx of God’s grace
owing to mundane goals we chase
so the verses our mind shapes
though colourful rainbow drapes
if it has now become a habit routine
perhaps it is indulgence we need to wean