Best Materialism Poems
Solid roots buried deep within the earth
Though a chimera
Far above the dense ground
High high above
Where there is no one else around
But down down below
To a place rarely talked about
Where everybody goes
To confront the darkness that lies within
Slowly eating away at our soul
Slowly devouring us all
A species as a whole
Will things ever change?
yes
For better or worse
The answer is unknown
Whether or not we choose to live life recklessly
We all endure our own kind of legacy
Whether or not we choose to be seen
Is irrelative to our destiny
Run from Fame
Ego
Arrogance
Radicalism
Carrying the restricted hatred of shame
With nothing of any true value to gain
Chasing satisfaction
In an immoral domain
Having the power to enthrall the criminally insane
Having to always pretend to play this game
Hoping that it’s all a game
All from the same death set aflame
Burning ghosts of an iridescent pain
Praying that some sense of morality still remains
A prayer is like seduction to your soul
Your church is the glamour the world bestowals
Your bible is the flashy neon lights and billboards
Your truth is the multiplicity of greedy
Your salvation is fruition of materialism
Your retribution is its finitude and lost satiety
Heaven becomes invisible through the eye of a needle
Rhyme: AABB
Rhythm: Trochaic tetrameter. i.e.,
Each line as: BAH-bah BAH-bah BAH-bah BAH-bah
1 “Hi, Corona, thy name means crown.
But all thy deeds in pain us drown.
Many losing jobs, homes and hope,
Are not sure how they now will cope.
2 For months schools and colleges closed,
For us many problems have posed.
Online class is not fun, my friend.
Good if soon it comes to an end.
3 Deaths one million by September.
Scary number to remember!
Why hast thou become a killer?
Please, leave us, mad graveyard filler!”
4 “I am only a messenger.
Neither killer, nor avenger.
Many see me as an evil.
But the wise will see my goodwill.
5 God, your great and loving Father,
Sees you drifting from Him farther.
Fun and entertainment centered,
You are now much conscience blunted.
6 Money you chase; but not wisdom,
Depth in spirit, or God’s Kingdom.
With your science and tech power,
You think you're a mighty tower.
7 God sent me to help you to see
Powerless how you are. Hence flee
From all your sins. Follow God’s way.
Then I'll fly away, as you say.”
Posted: 20 October 2020
Updated: 22 November 2020
So you want more nice things!
Will your life have more meaning?
When you have more stuff, is it ever enough?
Don't you know that there's more,
to life, than keeping score,
of who has more things,
what joy does that bring?
Our days are numbered,
don't just fill them with slumber.
And just having fun,
doesn't mean that you've won.
Your life should have meaning,
a purpose in being.
Doing all these things is,
like trying to catch the wind.
song
Wind catchers don't know
which way to go.
Wind catchers don't find,
true peace of mind.
Wind catchers can't see,
the truth that sets them free.
Wind catchers climb ladders,
but, does their life matter?
Wind catchers die with more,
but, who's keeping score?
A simple life is the best!
John Derek Hamilton Feb 2, 2013 revised November 18, 2015
the choking beat of conformity
coagulates internment in the minds
of fascist marches measuring time
shoving tubes filled with dictates
down the gullet of my spirit
wishing to be at least severed
from the instance of alignment
inherent in the laughing dream
which destroys ambitions of rain
-bows arching toward constellations
(a distorted and twisted version of the uni
-verse is still wavering alternative…
…dimensions into the crevice of an animal
eyeing and praying for nothing save rain
and prey to be plentiful despite their screams…)
must keeps the string extending
into nuclear holocaustic burns freezing
specters of old films dissolving
bubbles of arteries swelling grand
-father gasping at the why dangling
in the sky…stratospheric metaphors
…and off-key colors spill like incense
into the flame of creation harkening
dances of concubines combining
their hair like an enigma
lost in the tip of a hum
life splits the secret of the tongue
a hue reflecting djinns of you
releases peace in a white explosion
swimming a thousand curses in sand
blinding in the storm of suffering
until the palliating confusion tears
and the witnesses remain in the caesarian
-section of divided moons of elliptical doubt
orbiting the cloud of world-leaders
scratching the chin of sin smirking…
Materialistic pleasures are ripples in the water
Seem elegant but vanish soon
Ripples will not prevail in the perpetual rain
they get dispersed due to over flow
Non-materialistic pleasures are water in the sea
Seem salty and briny but immortal
They would never ever get drained
THE MASSES AWAKEN AS THE STORES OPEN.
NO GATHERING FOR THIS FAMILY TODAY,
AS THEY EMBARK UPON THE SHOPPING RITUAL,
THIS TIME OF YEAR.
THIS MATERIAL PHENOMENON IS OUT OF CONTROL,
SURROUNDING A DAY INTENDED FOR FAMILY AND FRIENDS.
DEALS ARE MORE IMPORTANT THAN MEMORIES AND
EACH YEAR WE BECOME LESS AND LESS HUMAN.
DO NOT GET ME WRONG, I LOVE A GREAT DEAL OR PRICE,
BUT LEAVE MY THANKSGIVING DAY GATHERING ALONE.
IF WE ARE A CORPORATE SOCIETY, THEN SACRED GATHERINGS
DO NOT COUNT FOR ANYTHING.
I'M A SPIRITUAL MAN, NOT A RELIGIOUS MAN.
HOWEVER, SOME HAVE MADE A RELIGION OUT OF SHOPPING.
REMEMBER WHAT IS IMPORTANT; OUR INNER SPIRITUAL CORE,
AND OUR ABILITY TO STRIVE TO BE BETTER HUMAN BEINGS.
WE ARE NOT HERE TO HAVE THE MOST TOYS,
BUT TO REACH FOR THE STARS!
TAKE EVERY DAY INTO PERSPECTIVE AND REALIZE EACH MOMENT.
THIS SEASON, IT IS THANKS AND GIVING VERSUS MATERIALISM.
BE WISE AND KEEP THE INNER SEARCH ALIVE!
ENJOY YOUR FAMILY AND FRIENDS ON THANKSGIVING DAY!
WRITTEN BY, CHADWICK ANDREW VINCENT
NOVEMBER 2014
the age of materialism
we are in the age of madness
an age of no common sense
an age where all is a rush
an age full of material dreams
an age full of material needs
the age of materialism
we are in an age of confusion
an age where moral values
don't count any longer
an age of competition
an age of too many lost
mind in different class
the age of materialism
we are in an age of great illusion
an age of circle right in a large box
an age of no use of nature
an age of lies
an age where out opinion
don't count in real sense
an age of robots
the age of materialism
we are in an age of calamity
is happening every where
we are in an age of ignorance
we love to ignored what matter
what values what really is important
to our life's
we are in an age of fears
an age where blood spray like
water tap
an age of hatred
the age of materialism
we are in another age of wars
an age when humans got no hearts
an age of no humanity is that all
we can offer?
an age of no self control
an age gone too wild in destruction
an age of no love
Lent
What does it mean?
To take the desert stance
Then walk this path
Of greatest resistance
To tangle your heart
With the rocks and the snakes
To lie your head down
Where the deceiver wakes
What is the point?
Of self-denial
To clear out the bitterness
Of the dark tempter's vial
To empty our hearts
When life's hard enough
And leave behind all of that
Comfortable stuff
Why would it reset?
My fluttering heart
If I take my self out
Setting ego apart..
Perhaps it's a call
To empty the space
So the cluttering stuff
Is put back in it's place
If I speak to the emptiness
And invite in the weakness
Facing up to desires
Crowding out Holy meekness
So Lent is the time.
A Divine invitation
To reconnect wholly
With High inspiration
The physical joys
And their transient pleasure
Replaced, not in part
But in full Holy measure
This is heavenly mystery;
A desire to bless
In our weakest position
Of the dry wilderness
So, embrace the unfriendly
Welcome the stranger
Feed up the hungry
As if gifts to the manger
For all we can do
When push comes to shove
In the emptying out
Is refilling with love.
Jinjagoliath
Ash Wednesday
16th February 2021
Queen of Materialism Versus Queen of Minimalism
She shops and shops and shops and shops.
She is either in a store or on the phone.
Amazon boxes surround her house.
Some are opened, some are not.
She is a consumer, smothered under boxes.
You can find her hand reaching toward the computer
As she tries to click “buy” but the rest of her is under boxes.
Hear that click? She just bought something else.
Will she have time to open all of these boxes before she dies?
Doubtful.
The Queen of Materialism lives.
Our next Queen has signed up to be in a tour of homes.
Her friends are horrified.
It is a Christmas tour. She has no Christmas stuff.
She has no quilts, no tree, no ornaments, no stuff.
Her house is black and white and blah.
There are no pictures on her wall.
She would not recognize an Amazon box.
She is not curious, not interesting, not tantalized by shiny things.
Colorful sassy things do not amaze, intrigue or entice her.
She does not go into stores, and she does not shop online.
Her house is stark, empty, bereft. She is the Queen of Minimalism.
The earth belongs to the One who created it*
We are only stewards of the area we possess,
Known to the ancients, this fact is no secret
No one owns anything forever is my guess,
So, enjoy it while you can is as good as it gets.
(*Psalm 24:1)
Written May 10, 2022
Picturesque and simple with sweet little windows,
Tidy guestrooms beside stylish bedrooms,
A kitchen straight out of a home catalog,
All contain inside plastic walls.
Blush, copper, teal walls leading to a bathroom,
Cobalt blue hibiscus designs on matching tea sets,
Coordinating furniture in every room.
Delicate and perfect from the roof to the garden.
Impeccable ideal home, a tangible version of home.
A grounded fantasy that profoundly consumes all,
Yearning to live in a dollhouse.
seeds of malaise cultural materialism for permissions
atrial, nothing functioned more than citizens' terms of right
values, possible domains of rivalry
defined, a phenomenal world of functional conditions
great as moaning Rome, livid
women are secured in natural churches rife
locally, rational and relational, religiously riotous
parties are luminous, phenomena explained physicians
permanently maimed, publicly
recognised more properly decipherable reasons
for determining domestic chains
of events differently referred what cunning
tricks warring crowds respect, believing
as needed transferred, predictably changed
Those with piggish hearts I'd berate
for desiring each worldly prize.
Avarice is a shameful trait.
Materialism blinds their eyes.
June 23, 2022
Greed Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Margarita Lillico
Syllable count checked with howmanysyllables.com
Flames sifts and seizes all, mankind’s desires burns through all
All is exchanged for fire, for fire is the highest priced gold
With a pearl within the flickering flames, still and wailing