Best Greedier Poems
Monstrously Machievellian
Demonic pedagogic
Ominously Orwellian
Demagogic logic
Fools’ Musk-ovite mules
Zuckerberg zeitgeist heist
Dickensian dystopia rules
Google last post bugle
Fossil fuels myopia drools
Bellicose Bezos blows
Bro-ligarchy mates’ malarkey
Unions demonstrate
Amazon defenestrate
Hades Gates hierarchy
In the dock
Murdoch foxy skulduggery
Poxy TikTok runs amok
Crass puns..shock thuggery
This lot don't give a jot
.
Bitter sh**ter Twitter
Greedier needier seedier
The death of mass media
X marks the spot!
His message to Mankind was divine love, much louder than
the desert wind hissing through the tall palm trees;
they heard Him, but sadly contempt built up when
they defiled the Temple by selling and trading instead of praying on their knees...
so Jesus got the whip and the lame and the blind cried out the word, " Hosanna! "
Hosanna! Hosanna!
Hosanna! Hosanna!
Christ was the faithful servant who was scourged, derided and crucified,
now, is the friend of all who believe in Him, not in a sinful world....
the Redeemer who carried the heavy cross to Calvary and died;
His resurrection was a victory over death making Him the eternal Lord!
Who besides Him is more worthy of God His Father, are we?
Anytime Jesus prayed, He finished that prayer with this holy word, " Hosanna! "
Hosanna! Hosanna!
Hosanna! Hosanna!
Nothing has changed...it was an unjust and mean world, and so it will be;
they lived for lust, power and money getting greedier than Judas who chose death;
find that good soul that resembles Jesus...is it that poor man who seeks mercy?
We can gather much gold, make him a crown and place it on his bruised head!
And while he sits there waiting for compassion, his feeble voice proclaims," Hosanna! "
Hosanna! Hosanna!
Hosanna! Hosanna!
All nations strive for supremacy, making useless and massive weapons so destructive,
they have no love for their neighbors...they hate peace and every beautiful place;
we have made it to this century...will others see a tomorrow not dark and delusive?
Pray like Jesus did and put your fate in the hands of the Almighty who's grace!
No joy or possession is greater than faith...get up, look up and shout, " Hosanna! "
Hosanna! Hosanna!
Hosanna! Hosanna!
All the best things in life are free.
Yes, money does make your life easier
But not much happier, you see?
So no sense in becoming greedier.
Saving up for the future's good.
Stashing some from every paycheck aside
As long as there's enough for food.
Those are cruel rules you chose to abide.
But you are surely missing out
On simplicity of power of now.
Meeting friends and partying out
Is finally something you can endow.
Dad used to tell me: with your friends
If you can, always try to pay upfront.
As no more struggle to meet ends,
Not worth it to pull supersaver stunt.
Not all the time but do travel,
Invest in yourself to live here and now.
Favorite shoes, clothes would ravel
Out but you will slowly breathe out the "Wow!"
loki:
For nine nights only your own will had bound you
to the World ´s Tree, you treacherous God,
while I wore a chain that I chose not, forever:
With cruel fetter my freedom you took!"
Odin:
"Too cunning and unpredictable you were, too wild to roam free:
Greater your strength and hunger in magick and in power
Then even my own, Tyrs and Heimdalls combined,
greedier than ravens, you sought ever more;
that's why we tied you,torso, legs and arms
In your own sons entrails for blood runs thicker than water."
loki:
"Was in nine realms no room for a trickster lord
Was there no realm that you could offer, i who existed even before you?
Of choice you bereft me to change my ways.
My trust you betrayed - Tyr and Odin Wotan most of all,
For you swore by your blood to protect and care for me when no other wouldst
You who ´d fed me and cared like a father for me
The most cursed of primordials i was.
"All of you lost your honor that day;
stronger was I, but still you tricked me:
Cunning magic you cowards employed--
Tyr you let pay for the promise you broke.
"Eternity ´s enmity is what I owe you.
Raving my greed now, grown with the years:
Not quite enough are the nine worlds to feed me,
to slake my hunger for revenge they´ll hardly suffice."
The nine worlds the aesir and vanir cherish shall fall to end my enmity
Odin:
"I stand against you to strike you back,
though well I know what wyrd is mine:
That I will fall with all my Einherjar,
whose lives I ´ve taken, that life might survive.
"With bitter sacrifice bought I the wisdom
for many a day this doom to delay;
hope I have kindled, none kept for myself:
Two mortals survive in the wood of the Tree.
John Moore
1843-1933
I was born with my lungs full of tarnation.
Leastways that was my mother’s version of it.
I do not believe anyone who was ever born,
Came Into this world kicking,
Leastways not like me;
I tumbled in, kicking like some drifting no account sodbuster,
Ready for the new plough, and the hedge maul.
I grew up in a working family;
My paw farmed our land with maw darning our lives together.
I grew up fast in this torrid sun, working and learning.
With sun-burned hands and forehead,
I scraped a living together, best I could,
And planted the seeds of a thousand children!
But with each passing shivering winter,
Even here in these sunny digs called Whittierville,
I hated the galloping return of the pale horse;
The dreaded infections of the lungs and nose;
Terrible suffering has taken place here, my friends,
Entire families were wiped out in a week,
Slain by a monster with no body!
Leastways that was my mother’s version of it.
This old gravelly graveyard here was busy in 1918;
Last stop for so many friends who died in a dark sick room,
Astonished, I might say, that it was their time to die;
I reckon Mt. Olive, in its greedier times of soft earth,
Has seen half a dozen funerals in a single day.
Leastways that’s what I hear tell,
Coming from Artilissa Dorland Clark herself!
Those were scary times, and the years were dark.
I do not believe anyone who has ever died,
Left this world kicking,
Leastways, not like me… last thing I remember,
I reached up to the ceiling in my sick bed,
And cursed my damned lungs!
For once again, as if by intelligent design,
They were full of tarnation.
Is the world shrinking into an Orwellian nightmare
Where we are controlled and no longer dare
To be different from others in this world
With what the Internet and Facebook says is what is held
And leaders who look to control us to take over this media
With Presidents taking to Twitter to feed it ever greedier
Kim Il Jong becomes Big Brother in a Stalinist shadow
Where he wants the world to finally to him bow.
© Paul Warren Poetry
( and this is how i became a pro)
(taking notes on the following genius is permissible, but is it permissible to cry?)
NOW HUSH AND MAYBE YOU WILL ALL LEARN SOMETHING FROM A METHODICAL
MASTER OF POEMS THAT DON’T MAKE YOU PUKE
IN VENTURED SERVITUDE
Faster and faster
it became my master
Quicker and quicker
I became sicker
I blazed a trail to the dark side of tomorrow
Then laid a highway to a city they call “sorrow”
More and more
I needed to score
And too oft the pickings were far too slim
So if she had to re-up I’d cop from him
Longer and longer
it grew stronger
As did the profanities my heart was screaming
While I described what the devil was deeming
The street became my siblings, both brother and sister
And yes, I tried to ignore the boil and blister
Boils because I’m the latter day Job
And never bowed to His eminence, alter or robe
Speedier and speedier it became greedier
To often, too often
Too often too many friend’s final home Is an early coffin
© 2011.…..Phreepoetree
There are men who believe in nothing,
who rely on their human strength
to accomplish greatness and image
to give realization to their ambitions,
while God is left out of their existence!
The deeper they dig the hard soil to find
treasures, the greedier they become;
their purpose in living is worthless,
they build skyscrapers for the rich and famous
and ignore the indigents dying in wooden shacks!
There are men who have never known hunger,
those pangs that make the stomach growl loudly,
and unable to sleep at night they commit suicide;
even children of tender age follow their examples!
Such is this horrendous pandemic so tragically lived
that has terrified millions and killed as many,
and being a survivor is a testimony to others
who'll come after us and avoid the mistake we made!
There men who see a new sunrise and its splendid light,
but turn away from it seeking destructive darkness;
they are ungrateful and unkind until death comes for them...
more excruciating is their grief before giving up their breath!
IN VENTURED SERVITUDE
Faster and faster
it became my master
Quicker and quicker
I became sicker
I blazed a trail to the dark side of tomorrow
Then laid a highway to a city they call “sorrow”
More and more
I needed to score
And too oft the pickings were far too slim
So if she had to re-up I’d cop from him
Longer and longer
it grew stronger
As did the profanities my heart was screaming
While I described what the devil was deeming
The street became my siblings, both brother and sister
And yes, I tried to ignore the boil and blister
Boils because I’m the latter day Job
And never bowed to His eminence, alter or robe
Speedier and speedier it became greedier
too often
Too often too many friend’s final home was an early coffin
© 2011.…..Phreepoetree ~free cee!~
Let’s pester Uncle Fester
After dafter Luxon
Pushed the button
Welcomed every glutton
To the isles of mutton
Theme of the meme
Team New Zealand
It does seem
No longer a
Stronger eclectic sceptic
Spanked by the rank
Septic tank stream
Peptic Pyramid scheme
Grand slam.. glam sham scam
Desperate Dan or Tangerine tan plan
God damn..American dream
Our rancour on social media
Danker seedier leaders crimes
Hanker for every greedier
Rhymes with banker
Sleazier golden geezer visas
Accept any offers to
Fill their many coffers
Brokery.. jiggery pokery
Immunity without impunity
To the unity of community
Profanity of their vanity
Insanity of their depravity
Clarity...disparity not charity
Tramples ample wokery
Our amazing landscape
Instead becomes their escape
Coined..after all they’ve purloined
Jolly jape…no red tape
Not being rash
But it is a rash
Debunk the gunk & funk
Forsaking the avarice
Taking the pis*
Bliss abyss monk
Crass..brash..flash git
S***k a chunk of cash
From their balderdash stash
Making..a complete hash of it
Fake elite on the take
As they see fit
Billionaire boys ploys annoys
Replete yet still cheat
Have your cake and eat it
Our government just envoys
For a small fee..sweet
Deploys the swanky..w**ky
Yankee all about me
Time to flee plea
They lit the fire
Liar & denier
Dug the quagmire
Piety for impropriety
Moolah Messiah ruler
High flyer pariah
Crueler society
Who when the s**t
Does hit the fan
No fibs..his nibs gets
First dibs on cribs
Outlier masterplan zen..know
Then where to go
Can always hunker down
In a spick & span den
Their Queenstown bunker
Amen
If you don’t play the big three
There’s no way
You should be seen
In the final of the WTC
That’s what’s been heard
Mean baggie greens
Have a word
Indians chagrin din
Simply absurd
Stokes bespoke blokes
Don’t give a monkeys
Run rates slate.. hate
Not WTC junkies
Ignore the pundits in their pulpits
Cryptic critics..cynics clinics
Ridicule the cruel schedule
South Africa aren’t the culprits
ICC flunkies & WTC just
About the big 3
Test cricket divinity
Could soon be
Just an affinity
For the trinity for infinity
Unless they spread some love
From above for every brother
Share the treasure chest
Care & invest in the rest
Actually play each other
Aussies bottom feeder media
Don’t give the Proteas
A feline in hades chance
But no day of the groundhog
This underdog is way greedier…needier
Kagiso Rabada the scheming leader
Of chock a block superstar larder
Stellar steaming speedster armada
Let’s hope the dumb beach bums
Are lampooned buffoons
Marooned by brill Saffa Jaffas
Festooned..spill just like Seville
The WTC may be slightly bonkers
But if South Africa can conquer
With stonker racy pacy conkers
They will be top of the tree
An up yours to
The endless tours
And friendless flaws
Taking the piss
Remiss avarice bliss
Of the big three
Don't give a jot or
A sod this lot
On your tod..just nod
Seedier greedier leaders
Stun..Shun the Needier
Not just down trodden
Sodden...run roughshod
Beseech each of those clowns..down
In the dumps chumps who chose
Plumps for stealthy
Leeches who teaches
Fools at our schools
Only the wealthy can stay healthy
No education for the nation
Uses...abuses..eschews..media issues..then sues
Argy bargy - sarky malarkey ensues
Bemuses readers…forsake news as fake
It's a Maga Saga ruse for f**ks sake
No immigration...deplore integration
To restore order…close the border
Hardcore race riot diet of denigration
Likes 60's generation segregation
Damnation not salvation..just devastation
On a morning like this, lethargic and indifferent,
It is so easy to make me rich,
When the pain is moving slowly and smoothly, and
I hold on to you, like a monkey,
Sob on me,
Make me the richest woman in the world,
Richer than Hetty Green,
Greedier than Hetty Green,
Can you see, my dear, how fast it is raining?
And the forest, a trickster, is washing its leaves,
Pretending that it cares while it is cheating with the rapper.
No one tells them that after the colors explode,
They will invade their hearts, like big Colonizers,
Will put names on them, and play cards,
Drink whiskey, laugh, and feed the earth, so after
They can ride their horses as a symbol of freedom and kindness,
Making donations and digging water wells,
On a morning like this, I believe,
Our story is like that of the gold seekers,
It is so easy to make me rich,
Make me the richest woman in the world,
Richer than Hetty Green,
Greedier than Hetty Green,
Dig me, baby, it is in my eyes,
Whisper in my ear,
While the cold raindrops are touching my face,
They are hiding in my hair, on a morning like this,
Be my tears, lethargic and indifferent,
Ask the leaves, on a morning like this,
I hope they do not lose their mind,
And will remember me in the spring
Within my own axis,
It did not slant
It did not drizzle.
The void shunned the grey clouds.
Lightning was rare.
Thunder turned mute.
Leaf-tops shook with the sleepiness of
Shameless drunks, casting ghoulish shades,
Causing affrays among wild species.
Rivulets rippled in hunger and in thirst,
Circling firths with methodical anger and protests.
The grass blades lost their verdancy and cringed.
Within this place,
The air was proud and still, unfeeling —
Thus blocking the nostrils of weaverbirds, so that
Their breath choked with the intensity of seasonal hate.
Our soils were burnt and frazzled.
Hoe-teeth were dull-edged, producing clangs of
Stony noise while only reflecting the rays of the
Killing sun.
Woe was upon us and upon the anus of the earth.
The corrugated roofs rattled loudly at noon,
Protesting the agony of torture, and like the air,
Sent down particles of aging thirst at night.
On the grounds of this zone
Came the trace of waste and powdered perdition.
Vultures constantly were late for repasts,
For the sandy ground was greedier.
Earth, pall of misery, exhumed Death
Among the dead, and exuded worms in the
Warmth of lost sempervirence.
Apoplexy on living matters reigned.
Consider the lives of old calabashes
Laid waste in the core of the desert;
The exhumed bones interred in prelapsarian order.
Imagine the still existence of the blacksmith’s forge,
The ground of the phoenix in her laboratory of rebirth —the
End product of its old life . . .
That was for us the twelfthmonth of horror.