Best Marketed Poems
The zebra:
An optical illusion
That tricks your sight,
Not colour, not HD ready,
But just in black and white.
An African sales success,
Of great pride it’s the source,
Cleverly marketed as …
A bar-coded horse.
Categories:
marketed, africa, animal, fun, funny,
Form:
Rhyme
Drugs and guns, the king pin of cyber history,
online behavior and devious work may be a mystery.
Moral decay, and anonymous mask, freedom of expression,
you can say it online and type it on any direction.
Cyber cafes, espionage and digital power,
economic theories and take overs, the word press showers.
A hidden service marketed for BitCoin currency,
drumming up support for the latest conspiracies.
Hilly grasslands where no one high above can breathe,
connect to a satellite, sell your product, take your digital cheese.
Smuggling, kidnapping and murder online, can be for hire,
illegal paraphernalia for the criminal empire.
Privacy and security can be used to hide from the law,
the faux pas of becoming an outlaw, with a digital glass jaw.
Categories:
marketed, deep, society, symbolism, technology,
Form:
Rhyme
IN DUE RESPECT (MY DUE RECOGNITION)
I am not that to my poetry.
We are.
But the thing is, we are not.
You are with me in spirit when I write.
I know this well because we speak into my mental environment.
When I publish my compiled poems in a poetry book, I am not the best seller being marketed.
How is this when you know the poems as I am writing them.
I am asked by my publisher will I use their tools to promote my manuscripts.
I did once and no one pay attention.
Does it make sense when the world knows who I am?
I tell you it is just a waste of money and I am, therefore, being scammed.
Moving mountains is what I do well as Andra Day sings.
Precarious times and perils of the world manifest the truth in that I write about life and things I have witnessed to.
Don’t I suppose to get recognition for writing so good?
Additionally, is it right when the Soup ignores my poetry?
They do not put me on the list of “Best New Poems” popularity.
Yet, I have my audience and I am read just as much as everyone else.
Thus far, I must let the Soup know that this list is incorrect.
Mountains I do not shy from.
I am to climb to overcome.
No reasons to be dissuaded by a lack of recognition.
My poetry is to be written.
It heals the troubled soul soothing the thoughts that ponders.
Political activism for the universe of people humanitarianly bonded.
I am a Poet and Philosopher growing stronger.
_____________________________________________________________|
Written July 29, 2016!
Categories:
marketed, appreciation, business, change, character,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
Is there a doctor in the house?
A cryptic message from the uniting nations,
looking for yet another credentialed ecotherapist
to surgically remove all our economic and political issues.
Those remaining after overdosing on pharmaceuticals
as media marketed
through normal incorporated competitions
for egocentric profit
channels and parties and outlets
fed by oil-fired over-heating ballistic powers.
Unfortunately, this local ecotherapeutic facilitator and mentor guild
is out of rabid pathologists.
They are all currently mad with medicines
of and for climate illnesses,
building sand bag towers
across drowning coastal cities
the oceans are reclaiming as their own,
in their perennial rage against the continents
of usurpation.
Predators, with power-over monocultural intent,
this tidal tug of war between productive lands and all-consuming seas.
But doctors are best for reacting
to already raging and suffered madness,
badness,
while our ecotherapeutic nurses
are nurturing specialists,
responsible for co-mentoring regenerative public health,
supporting cooperative natural healing laws and organic orders,
composting richer climates within dysfunctional families
as post-graduate clinical trials
before they take on facilitating public-sector governing,
multicultural garden uncovering,
helpful-healthy community beloving
our uniting nations' polypathically extending families.
For proactively regenerating healthy societies
this ecotherapeutic guild recommends
our co-empathic cooperative trust mentors,
nurturing Good Holistic Sciences and Arts of healing medicines.
Where surgeons and psychotropic dispensing political doctors
react against predative paranoid economic nightmares,
our health-nurturing nurses bring deep-resonantly fired experience
returning pathological ecopolitical dark night scares
into rememories of multicultural Paradise Dreams
singing and dancing through EarthTribe childhoods.
Why seek yet another burnt-out surgical WinLose pathologist
when we have so many healthy WinWin eco-nutritional mentors?
Trees creating good from bad atmospheres
and pollinators regenerating depleted ecopolitical soils
and barren, former ecologically healthy, souls.
Categories:
marketed, community, earth, health, nature,
Form:
Political Verse
People glower; horns get louder -
I wonder why a drive so dour
was ever termed rush hour.
.
Dollars followed by point 99
Are dollars with one more assigned.
Retailers think shoppers math blind.
Business phones in America evolved
With English as option, not default,
Like a blond joke saw phones solved.
In the USA, I cannot afford to die
So place my body atop funeral rates
Until they pass sky for heaven-high.
Halloween is marketed in July,
Followed by Christmas in August –
Greed's gone awry, I won't comply.
Medical care doesn’t care at all,
Should be re-termed medical gall
As many are ill from medical appall.
The law fits fine if one is rich,
Others needing a justice hit
Need a thief’s help to pay for it.
Let me end my sad word hurl
As born in my dramatic world:
Hyperbole debris, reality decreed.
Categories:
marketed, how i feel, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
Where artificial intelligence meets
Kinesthetic tracking
Cognitive science traverses
With a new Second Life Enterprise
A bold horizon
Of man-machine-imagination
Engineering virtual platforms
Connected body life hyperspace
Dreaming on cyber integration
Envisioning an astral sphere
Of consciousness free from the body
Circling planetary interdimensions
A cerebral socialized infinity
Marketed to mass humanity
Intertwining flood gates of creativity
With our physical apparatus
Parallel dimensions virtualized
As real as the bark of a tree
Catapulting post human destiny
Interstellar, monumental trajectory
loosed from the boundaries of place and time
Categories:
marketed, computer-internet, fantasy, life, life,
Form:
Free verse
You hear voices in the bar room, making merry, making a toast
They have offices and homes, but here is where they laugh most
Men from all walks of life, united under the banner of strong drinks
Here you can be yourself without caring what the world thinks
When God made the world and everything in it
He knew without alcohol it would not be complete
He gave birds wings, and waved them as they flew
Then he gave men, the knowledge to brew
Men have conquered the world drunk on spirits and wines
Drinking men have grabbed pens and drawn crooked lines
Dividing the world into nations, printing it on fancy maps
The borders are crooked because warlords were drunk, perhaps!
Poor men and beggars have known what it feels to be kings
When they drink, they get drunk, and poverty no longer stings
Unmarried women and maids know what it feels to be a lady
When they drink, they are beautiful, for they can’t hold the mirror steady
If God had made man out of clay and wine instead of blood
He would never have had to send mankind the great flood
Men would have obeyed his word and Noah would not have built the ark
Wine is good for the heart; no one would ever die of a heart attack
Or if God had filled the oceans with wine instead of water
The world would be a place of great and endless laughter
Men walking around with jars full of wine and hearts full of love
Singing songs on sailing boats, no landlords and oil barons to serve.
Now here we live, a world where they trade the wines and spirits
Chemically induced, cleverly marketed, to bring in more digits
Still we flock to bars and liquor shops, if our time and money can afford
To partake this strong drink, in pursue of happiness that is fraud.
Has it caused more harm than good, the alcoholic beverage?
Are there more accidents, than men with forgotten rage?
When they drink, they may not be socially coherent
But they are happy, so alcohol must be God sent
Categories:
marketed, drink,
Form:
Rhyme
Somewhere between increasing size of the uniform
Maturity kicked in, and I grew up, mom
Molded to be different than the peers I grew among
If I were to, meet my child avatar, how I would be viewing him?
Changing every new annum, always was a unique kid
Sketching maps on living room, waltz with naval fleet
Dad wishing for a miniature of the neighbor's son
Planned
A spaceship to land on lands I never seen
Walk up to the random human like, "hey person
Why are you aiming your bow at that tree stem?
Which has been shot million times from an inch distance"
Used to scratch codes while I get my quarter back
Running with no goal, a referee in a soccer match
Watching television, used to stop for ads
To find a cheap way to get to America while I still operate
.
.
.
Teleporting through a U tube, a chemical ruin
To somewhere, where they don't ask how they just ask 'when'?
Where they tell the truth when asked how they are doing
Religiously peaceful while the beef's stewing
Where love's marketed as branded
Not a highway to hell for your hippy grand kid
Where college is sweet and candied
Not a trainee residence for mid life crisis
Where a little bit of alcohol is not youthful devilry
Where feminine coconuts aren't censored for some cable tree
Where my mondays can't foretell my tuesdays
Where my funeral will not be like my forefather's, before new faces
I keep warning you, but you are like Eustace
Keep the status quo, yeah, my voyage will cost you a huge sum
But I will be happy, yes mom, yes, yes
I love you like weekends, but I live because of the weekdays
Categories:
marketed, career, cheer up, confidence,
Form:
Lyric
Memory, oh sweet memory,
Lost in dizziness, but found.
Excite my brain to joyfulness.
Pain is sometimes lethal.
Memory loss is just one warning sign of this war.
Add to that: headaches, depression, oh, the mental pain.
Numbness, insomnia, heart palpations, and more, begin slowly.
From whence comes your sweet deception?
My bones ache and I cannot breath in life's memory.
Lost in my own fantasy with dizziness.
Imagining a chemical warfare against the masses.
Common folks like you and me but subjugated peons.
Mushy brains found among the young and innocent thin.
Excite my brain with your pondering, my muse.
To you, I owe this mysterious inkling.
A powerful infiltration, a plan concocted by the enemy.
Chemical warfare on the home front, disguised as pleasure.
Marketed among the unsuspecting –
Aspertine is thy name oh great deceiver
In the name of sweetness, mental acuity dies.
Freely given to the soldiers in Desert Storm, diet soda!
The Plan: Conquer a great nation from within.
Infiltrate every aspect of life in a well-laid plan.
Thus, food and drink may lead to a nation's folly.
Slowly slipping away our freedom to be US.
Quietly. Unobtrusively. Ingeniously. Irreversibly!
Joyfulness, visit me; remove this pain for it is great.
Chemical warfare kills.
Sometimes, we close our eyes.
But we must not.
Lest it becomes lethal to our free nation –
© March 17, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: Et cetera Free Poetry
Sponsor: Debbie Guzzi
RELATED LINK: http://articles.mercola.com/sites/articles/archive/2011/11/06/aspartame-
most-dangerous-substance-added-to-food.aspx
Categories:
marketed, angst, food, life, visionary,
Form:
Free verse
Waking me in the wake of her brilliance
words spoken,written in convoluted high tones
ringing meaning esoteric and quite unknown
the craft was hyped in meteoric terms
shining bright, sending craven tremulous brain numb.
Harking, in glory she strode the road
on which no one else was allowed
they lined up till she ticketed
them for her rich comments
looking at the teeming crowd
I too went and pushed as a throng on.
She was allaying the fears of an unwary(me included)
do not worry if you do not know'tense agreement'
I am here and with you the manna heaven sent
I would 'salad';I would 'marinate'; I would'contemplate'
and 'I would ruiminate',for heck as sure I would,
your poem would come out shining from wood
wait till I am through with that ,sit there in suspense
as I put on spectacles English and thrash you hence
the poor bloke waited with breath baited
like a rabbit flagellating as a helpless bait.
After an hour, the wise lady looked up
gave a list of typos to the poor bloke as his corrective sup
and in the end she wrote
with ten spell mistakes of her own galore
this poem was all wrong and even the topic was
actually this guy should have come to me
and got the poem written by me
on a topic of my choice
and claimed this was his and will be
it was only then would I give a positive critique
as it stands it is a loser because this do-no-good
pooh phah phah, is the author.
Now let me do the right thing
somebody close has died
yes,he did and they did not lie
I began a poem for lament
but that young bloke came like scent
I forgot the lament and wrote
a collaboration of ass cream whip and ah! in it sent.
Well the critique royale with her hyped and marketed skills is on to her next critiquing ticket.
Categories:
marketed, lifeme,
Form:
Free verse
Tolerance!
From your mid-air balcony
While responding to greetings
Spread over on land below,
Drizzling on your wrist/
The waving star studded bracelets,
I don’t know why-
Reminded me
Those rough hands of juvenile kids
Picking their livelihood
Out of municipality’s dust-bins?
On wounded shoulders,
Those you stood upon to plan
Strategies of despicable scams
And so uncompromisingly
Marketed rainbow of dreams,
Resting on them
Flags of your ‘intolerance’
On prohibited roads
I don’t grasp how-
Appeared to me
To be fluttering rags,
Begging before public places?
Cushions of the facilities,
You enjoyed without having
To work in tea gardens
And in offices of shopkeepers,
In anticipation of being snatched
By the faceless folks
Coughed out the fear
Of unwarranted intolerance!
You owe them something or what?
Categories:
marketed, analogy, betrayal, bullying, conflict,
Form:
Blank verse
Yuval Noah Harari
suggests that Nationalism's
Big Three Nemeses are fear of
nuclear holocaust,
degenerative climate trends,
and Business As Usual disruptions
of eco-politically salvific technology.
When I first read this list
of his global Three,
the one that stood out
at least for me,
to potentially
break through our tendency
to see through lenses
nationalistically
is Earth's great climate pathology.
Still,
all three are LeftBrain dominant,
StraightWhiteMale privileged,
Patriarchal-Capitalist nationalistic systems
of scientific reductive-rooted secularism
and defensive
extractive-infested
militarism.
Aside from a home habitat
in WholeEarth Crisis,
extinguishing all hope
of future peace health
is our cooperative multicultural wealth
regeneration,
our ability to distinguish
which of these three
is most transparently
exploitive and disempowering
our SunShine EcoSystem,
To dialogically determine
which is most polyculturally vulnerable
to inflaming
already repressive Patriarchal/Capitalism,
Which is most unenlightened
and monotheistically RightWing
StraightWhiteMale
LeftBrain dominant
May also be the unholy Fascist fascinated
demonizing ecowomanist healthy choice
and Earth as sacred Goddess
panentheistically denying,
Holy Nature/Spirit indigenous defying,
climatically degenerative Nationalism, yes,
but also, more fundamentally dualistic,
AnthroSupremacism
over ecofeminist healthy wealth
of fertile sacred Earth
Where monoculturing climate "change"
may become most easily defined
by Yanged out RightWing predation
fueled by a competitive economy
of hierarchical
from-above produced
and massively media marketed scarcity,
rather than from-within
ecological healthy robust wealth integrity.
Then again,
I could also see win/win opportunity
for health as wealthy polycultural activity
in co-immigrating away from global fear
of nuclear nationalistic hostility
Emigrating toward global polypathic thrival
post-secularizing revival
of sacredly uniting cooperativity
principles of Eartherapeutic Energy
as healthy integral international democracy,
NonViolent Communication fueled
by
and for
and with Whole
Holistic
Holy EarthTribal
win/win systemic
authentic
intricate
exquisite sacred global integrity.
Categories:
marketed, caregiving, earth, health, peace,
Form:
Political Verse
There
There I stand in the bakery before the huge steel metal machine, 100 yards long and silver. A cake machine worth a mint. All sorts of ingredients thrown together to make cakes, quite a mix! You’d need to see it for yourself to understand what goes on. Not a case of add this and that to make a cake, oh no. Recipes and correct steps to take.
Think of the engineering that made this huge machine. Tens of thousands of components, some penny size, others as big as a car. People with brains made this bit of kit. Moving it and installing it must have been a job! How many trucks trucked it here?
Then there are ovens as old as the factory, still burning gas and cooking cakes. The grand children of the engineers will be alive now. Same as the first bakery workers. Who sees it that way, just me? I ponder the other things around me. The list goes on: cake mixers, air conditioning, factory floor plan, production lines where many people work. The end result is cakes. Lots of them!
Cakes that are designed, produced, marketed, distributed and eaten. A whole industry within an industry, all related. From designers and engineers making the machines, people producing cakes and customers eating them, it’s a world all by itself. As complicated as an aeroplane factory or car plant or rock quarry. A dizzying array of thought and actions brought this bakery into existence.
Think about that when you eat your Colin the Caterpillar cake.
Categories:
marketed, candy, chocolate, science, technology,
Form:
Verse
It is in the air
Maybe the chair
Giving everyone a health care scare
And that is not fair
Added to having the homework done
And recess fun
Wearing a mask
Is the law abiding marketed task
Saying this will solve the problem
Scripted “We got them”
Ending the virus infection
As a prescription protection
Face covering does have an angry sight
Uncomfortable and tight
Frightful with might
Trying to breathe
Taking away human expressions to see
Trust needs to come on board
To win the invisible contagious war
By showing the door
Defeating controlling factors looking for a power play score
This is a choice
Made behind the godly surgical hidden voice
“I see your man date
And raise you ‘after Election Day get things straight’”
This is a concern
Distractions in the environment where students learn
Both book smarts
And social starts
Memorizing everything by heart
In order to be ready in playing a part
In this debatable plot
Dumped on those wanting a shot
Know the setting
Before betting
Taking the mask off
And getting a life threatening cough
From the smoke
That the Marlboro cowboy stoked
And the entertainers puffed while telling a joke
Sipping on something added to their coca coke
Wearing a mask is not a way to conform
Instead it’s a peaceful way during a storm
To call the house
Squeaky as a mouse
“I hope you have a better hand
In this political party stand
Or a new generation will win the pot voting ‘you are canned’”
Categories:
marketed, class, health, high school,
Form:
Rhyme
With apologies to Albert Camus
I once was a circus strongman,
Sovereign of midway spectacles.
I wore a leopard-skin loincloth
And a lion-claw necklace.
My club was seasoned hardwood.
I proudly dragged my knuckles
Through the sawdust and straw.
I wrestled the orangutan
And boxed the kangaroo.
I tore phone books in half
With my teeth.
I became a star promotion
With elevation from sideshow freak
To a main ring attraction.
My charisma was marketed
By carnival barkers and snake oil shills.
My future in show biz seemed bright.
My manner was summertime light,
And then came the fall.
Categories:
marketed, allegory, life,
Form:
Burlesque