Highway Robbery Poem
Though still within our infancy,
we strive and thrive, but woefully
we flash and flaunt our 'primacy',
display our trophies pridefully.
Our terra firma ecstasy
destroys the planet's harmony,
lays waste to life within the sea,
and all in name of vanity.
Who dares our spheroid's symmetry
by doubting Nature's regnancy
defying laws, like gravity,
affirms a fatal fallacy…
for, centered on the 'world of we',
we feed our vain insanity
on thoughts beyond eternity -
seems strange when looked at cosmically.
Perchance there is no remedy
for those in shadow's prophecy -
unless we handle skillfully,
as clay we'll pay the penalty.
The Moguls rule with cruel decree,
control the crowds like puppetry,
pursuing greed addictively
with no accountability.
The winds, they reek of Royalty
(that's bathed in suds of treachery)
and blow across the peasantry
left gasping in their pungency.
The Queen, so steeped in snobbery,
sits, preening proud Her pedigree,
on throne of ash and ebony
while sipping Sekt immodestly;
to sate Her Regal Majesty,
a caviar clad canapé
is served with golden cutlery
by maidens bent submissively.
The King is bailed from bankruptcy
by Knaves who hoodwink artfully
the down-and-outer evictee
who wallows in their lenity.
Forsooth, the Money Monarchy
ordains the dollar dynasty
portending highway robbery
by Peacocks plumed in finery,
for Jesters and the Fools agree
to dabble in duplicity
while stripping masses witlessly.
Long live the peon's penury!
To justify the oddity
that one plus one is sometimes three,
one reaches to theodicy,
takes paths of circularity.
In bygone trials of travesty
the doubters, draped in blasphemy,
endured the pain and agony
inflicted by the papacy.
Inspired by the Trinity
fanatics bent cosmology
in geocentric fantasy
while Bruno burned for heresy;
and aged women, fruitlessly
(while racked and wrenched), begged clemency
from justice framed in infamy,
but set ablaze for witchery.
That epoch of credulity
(when savants fostered sorcery
and practiced ancient alchemy)
arose in dark age quackery
as clerics dripping piety
(while raging, raving rabidly)
pervaded thralled society
with callous inhumanity;
'repent', they bellowed, 'verily,
forsake the world's iniquity,
live lives of want and chastity,
and give your gelt to God through me'
The Masters make a mockery
of freedom and democracy
by holding down the uppity,
released from shackled slavery,
now fettered in a factory
else strewn across the Bowery,
still chained in bonds of bigotry,
immersed in seas of poverty.
And colliers, tapping balefully
in sunken-mine solemnity,
yet thrum a mournful monody
some call the digger's elegy.
To children, pale and raggedy
(behind a day of drudgery),
the boss man, oh so gallantly,
presents a penny, niggardly;
though some are fed (belatedly),
their eyes recede in apathy
while bellies swell, inflatedly,
with mothers watching, wretchedly.
When met with health adversity
or broken bone infirmity,
the pauper dangles helplessly
with no insurance policy;
and those engulfed in lunacy
are ailing blobs left floating free
through psycho-dream obscurity -
a dire death row odyssey.
Forgetting mankind's unity,
our rich and poor dichotomy
breeds empty doomed finality,
Just as in days of chivalry,
wild warriors fighting forcefully
bring freedom neath the gallows tree
while blending blood and burgundy
to toast the slaughtered enemy,
or else convince the colony
to cede with smile on bended knee
and yield her diamonds, silk and tea.
At first they call the cavalry
and then again the infantry,
so proudly primped in panoply,
and armed from finest armory
(embraced in hands so tenderly),
inflict benign atrocity -
but soon atomic weaponry
will cancel our posterity.
Misusing high technology
(to feed the face of gluttony)
depletes our Rock of energy,
now slowly dying thermally.
Our gadgets breathing CFC
fuel ozone holes' immensity
while cloud bursts, raining acidly,
wilt woods in their entirety,
and rivers, tainted chemically,
refill our cups methodically
and drown our souls organically.
Adjusting genes mechanically
may well blot out the bumble bee
annulling fruits' fecundity,
but brings big bucks reliably.
We wager perpetuity
to revel momentarily
in shadow-like obscurity
ignoring the futility,
but if we bet unknowingly
on fickle fate's contingency
and thereby act haphazardly
we're doomed to lose the lottery.
The mildly mad bureaucracy
so often lacks coherency
when raping rules abundantly
but offers no apology.
They paint the past in reverie
when, slyly comes the tendency
to take away our privacy
which paves the way to tyranny.
With earlobes lurking furtively
that listen surreptitiously,
and eyeballs peering doggedly,
we've lost our mental sovereignty,
and those who dare to disagree
must hide away in secrecy
else perch in penitentiary
with water board anxiety.
Yes, sans responsibility,
our marble in this galaxy
will crumble in catastrophe
ere ever reaching puberty…
Copyright © Terry O'Leary | Year Posted 2015
Highway Robbery Poem
Good evening, folks...trust all is well.
First of all, let me congratulate all those who commented on the first Poem
Contest posting I had. Bear in mind, as Judge and Jury, only I am permitted to
send messages without words...It was mentioned that this would be a tougher
quiz...see with me, words are completely optional. Re. the $160 electrician's bill,
once, in my old house, I had one come and put a new ceiling light fixture in my
father's room, and track lights in my room. His work was awful, fixture was the
cheapest thing...I had worked in a retail lighting store, and knew he paid about
$20 for it, the track lights were extremely unsightly, the ceiling was butchered; the
entire job took no more than 30 minutes, and he handed me an $800 bill!! Talk
about highway robbery.
Now a few bits of Tomfoolery, with but a few "Tom's Tidbits".
How can I lose more stuff than I own??
It's a struggle to figure out how to get my cell phone to work. I wonder if that's
because I've never been imprisoned.
Talk about hot flashes...I had my first with the above mentioned electrician.
A ringing in the ears is but to be expected by someone named Bell.
Did I mention about the Honda Civic Center??
My "No Words" Poetry form should be posted with the Soup. What'ch ya' think;
"Tomfooleryesgue??" Any suggestions??
A bachelor like me gets so lazy, if I get hungry, the most I can do is take an olive
out of the jar...w hands, of course...
Comments; I wanted to post either "Electric Blanket" or "How to Pay Bills" but the
Soup won't allow it, cause they're too long, and require two postings...Should they
count as one? Or should I just post part No.1, and leave it up to you clever
people to find pt.2 on your own?? Is this idea acceptable, guys?? Please let me
know. The Soup is always busting my chops about using the number symbol. I
suppose there is a good reason....gotta find out why...they are like our parents
here, at least for me. Just wish they would cook me a meal once in awhile,
maybe do the laundry or somethin'....
Kindly post your votes on third poem being "Electric Blanket" or "How to Pay Bills"
which I have just "fine tuned" a bit...let's see how it runs now, or is, like a guitar, a
thing in need of a tune-up to play. You can post your votes as comments at this
posting site, and "write-in Candidates" are accepted gleefully...
Now, up with Clue No. 1 on Super Quiz Poetry Contest.
Okay, the moment you've been waiting for!!! Clue No. 1
Copyright © tom bell | Year Posted 2007