Best Movers And Shakers Poems
On the edge she sits, a frail nonentity;
neither bloom nor spirit, nor secure identity,
as forlorn and shy she trembles, a man
asks her to dance, she must decline.
Stuck in a bubble, just missing the boat,
floating past maybes, a lump in her throat,
she dawdles and dangles, an inch from forever,
a chance to break open, but opting for never.
One day she will make it, step into the limelight,
and pirouette daintily, taking his hand,
there'll be no more jitters or lame-brain excuses
just confident motions in time with the band.
What a relief to be one of a legion
of movers and shakers who're down from the shelf,
she's gliding with grace while avoiding another's toes,
hugging her partner instead of herself.
*******
...autobiographical, you wouldn't believe how much!
SYRIAN REFUGEES
I'm watching a programme on telly
About the Syrian refugees
Men and women and children
Humanity brought to its knees
I'm watching the desperate faces
The terror and hunger and fear
They're facing their ultimate nightmare
And me? Well I'm just sitting here
And saying 'Isn't it awful'
'Something needs to be done'
Whilst searching the TV listings
And planning my evening of fun
Then I happen upon the BBC news
Cameron wringing his hands on my screen
Saying Syria is a priority
Then slips into a black limousine
Then Hollande, and Angela Merkel
Echo the prime minister's views
And tell us how hard they are working
Another soundbite for the news
Then shoot off to their heads of state dinner
Which will go on well into the night
While in the camps the tears will continue
No dinner for those folks tonight
At the meeting, an idea from Turkey
Amongst the platitudes and the kind words
The plan that they're putting forward
Is to drop lots of bombs on the Kurds
I flick channels and happen on Tony Blair
Offering the world a solution
I really can't listen to that grinning clown
Spouting his verbal pollution
He's jabbering on about Islam
Trying to give us the wisdom we lack
And hoping the world has forgotten
What Bush and him did in Iraq
Perhaps he's just a bit jealous
That he's not allowed to the feast
After finding Saddam's nuclear weapons!
A doggy bag surely at least.
While another mother loses her children
More slaughter and mayhem we see
And imagine the arms manufacturers
And dealers, jumping with glee
As they make another few billions
And probably a few billions more
Then they'll hide all their dirty old dollars
In their financial laundry offshore
And the politicians turn a blind eye
And I'm sure that they won't be divulging
How some of them came by their fat bank accounts
And why their back pockets are bulging
But then.......success I hear on the news
The EU says all is not black
They've solved the refugee crisis.
When they get here.........we're sending them back.
Job done, EU movers and shakers
So sorry for doubting your cause
You've sorted the Syrian problem
Give yourselves a big round of applause
© Ron James 05/04/2016
I Drove my Bugatti,
to my Buddy's "G's party.
I didn't know many there,
at my Buddy "G's party.
Poet's day Trader's,
The Movers and Shakers.
Some Star Movie Makers,
The Cruisers and fakers,
Dancer's and Sailor's.
Rock Music Player's,
With "G's" Party favors.
Classic Hip and Arty
One Crazy Party.
I dozed off in My Bugatti.
I drove My Roll's Canardly,
To "Ole" Fuzy's party,
I knew everybody,
at "Ole Fuzy's" party.
Boones Farm in glass,
And some smoking Grass.
Foaming Miller's Frothy.
With Pocket Rocket Poly.
Led Zeppelin to Hollie's,
A classic Hippy Party.
So, Party Hardy.
And follow Your Dreams
to Your New Bugatti.
Yeah.
A Rolls Canardly.
is a Vehicle that Rolls Down
One Hill, and Can Hardly
Roll up the Next.
I’ve walked the city streets
marveled at the night lights
and majestic high buildings
seeming to silence the sky
a blot of darkness, for nothing
is visible above the eaves--
top floors reserved for
Penthouse gods and goddesses…
I’ve witnessed the motion
spoken to Movers and Shakers
and have concluded that
even death can be quite animate
but there is only Life in Love…
(God has no enemies
but evil begets its own
sows where the heart
has left its vacancies)
The past is a place
we are all too familiar with
for the present benefited
or the victim--
the future our place for
hope and dream, immediately
blessed where there is
abundance of faith and love…
The world has gotten
much smaller, too many
eyes: no place to hide
without snap snap click click
not a word is said without
leaving a recorded echo--
tigers and lions now our
technologies, licensed to
ambush and devour…
Since when did News
become Gladiators,
good vs evil, excluding
the facts? Not that I
don’t like a feisty fight
every now and then,
but when seeking news
I prefer the right—a clear
and penetrating pure light
absent the glaring egos
we now call Anchors
more A Ship of Fools.
It’s up to us movers and shakers in this world
to get things done that need doing.
You and I know full well that others will sit still and wait,
for us to get the old pot stewing.
The movers and shakers are lonely at the top,
but that is their residence by choice.
It is they who get things done and make all the plans,
and the ones who aren’t afraid to raise their voice.
Why must the American people keep asking why
The FBI always seems to get a Bye
When accountability for one's actions
Should be so high
Persecution of so many a- lister's stuck in the public's eyes
Though they deserve the cost of their own demise
Because we no longer just let it lye
So once again we try to send our cries to Washington
Hoping they will not fall on deaf eyes
When people plug into the few systems on which we rely
To prevent any more of our teachers or students from having to die
That leaves so many families devastated asking why
Our Governments plan ends with nothing but a lie
Social media and reporting these troubled teens actions
Should never have been put aside
While Congress takes a free ride
Gun control so widely divided among our lawmakers
That seems to be a bunch of overpaid fakers
That is supposed to be the movers and shakers
For the American people who elect them to office
So much gun violence in our schools and streets
Have parents demanding answers while Congress retreats
From the president to the FBI should be held accountable
When public awareness is so high
American people won't tolerate any more of their attempted tries
We need them to set their agenda's aside to hear the families cries
I say this to open up with my own silence
To deal with all the headlines about the rise of school violence
We need our governments promise they will decide
These kinds of actions will no longer be allowed to backslide
Or be put on the back burner to let ride
Or accountability in our elected officials will just have to rise
In the public's eyes that will cut them down to size
To elect a government willing and wise hearing America's cries
Nobody cried for the worker
he left a pile of bills a
a rusty cage of body
cry old soul
forgotten memories
ashes of historys dustheap
real movers and shakers
the cries are made
but never heard.
COLOR FORMS
The movers and shakers of art delight.
In the shadowbox-brain they regain sight.
Dear Dorothy clicks her sarcoline heels.
Her striped boat sailing on sea-hued teals.
Zenith dawn blazes in coquelicot hue.
The artist’s tipsy trees blushed pink and blue.
Majestic Oz - smaragdine-jeweled city.
Ponies prance romantic colors - witty.
Brush brush brush then fill the scarecrow with straw.
His prideful chest overloaded and raw.
The movers and shakers of art transform
Fairy tales into surreal color forms.
10/12/2018
Anthony Slausen’s The Paint Movers Contest
sarcoline - flesh colored
coquelicot - (kohk-li-coh) - red like wild poppy
smaragdine (sma-rag-din) - emerald
Boot it up baby cause the search is on top
We looking for filler and none of that slop
The stuff we call primo, Chivas and that sensie
The limo and jetplane, jewels and clemency
A forgiveness of feeling and numbing inside
Boot it up baby cause its time for the ride
The quicker the better, this buzz can be built
A double, a triple, a bong that’s on stilt
A temporary party but not without out
Just warming up the inside to later bring it on out
Music, our gift, is the fender blender too
Cause its shaking up my insides like a fender blender do
I’m saying and seeing that I know you, I do
I love you, I love you, you’re one of the crew
The quicker the better, this buzz can be built
All in it together, not yet on the tilt
A pace not well planned but revealed in act
Of saying and showing a reversal of tact
So good and so fine I see in my mind
My being so cool, I’m one of a kind
Great dancer and orator and intelligent me
I’m putting me out there so all will see
See and believe are these moments of time
Never remembered but time sublime
The quicker the better, this buzz can be built
The sooner the better, I get on the tilt
A buzz I am sure of without any doubt
Has surrounded my seeing and being en route
To the site I was searching for, trying to find
With my sensie and Chivas and all of its kind
Great party with lookers and movers and shakers
Entirely convinced of our purpose as takers
No memories of giving or helping a few
Just words that I love you, you’re one of the crew
Quicker and better this buzz was built
Later than sooner I made it to tilt
Boot it up baby cause the search is on top
We looking for filler and none of that slop
Time with out purpose or meaning of thought
Efforts at nothing or taking a shot
Not alone wanting a difference to make
Waiting and watching and looking for break
Filler is fountain of Faith within heart
Belief in the gesture of Love from the start
Boot it up baby cause the search is the top
Found is the reason, a Love that won’t stop.
Zoomanity
Ponderous pretense
blindsiding any ability to cope, to hope, the
fabric of reality gropes, worn
Torn, promises shredding like swilly alibis
Hoovers and fakers
backing into their mangled apocalypse,
can only stammer and stare
Movers and shakers denying the twofers mindset, all those
simulated regrets getting the glares
The fear beneath the surface acting out
All about doubling down on doubt
Broken blather can only whine retractions and balk,
gasp and gawk
Ignorance dumpstering its future for lack of strictures
Not a pretty picture
Hard to know what’s going on behind those diverted eyes
Easy to see what’s not shown, it’s what they deny
An oil-disaster mindset weaseling the obvious proof
A top-stories attitude optioning the truth
What the…attacking the ethnic other
What the…an extreme economy that will not recover
What the…going with all those conflicted druthers
Bankster logic bloats and swells, smirks “That’s tough.”
Yea, that’s the stuff—duck and dive, staying alive, rim the ride
Why won’t these wings glide?
Racists winking at the camera and stammering alibis
Second Amendmenters rationalizing the right
of under-privileged children to die
Politicians and their Bozo-moves never thinking they should be accused
Marriages turning on each other—feeling used—not on each other’s side
Denial as pride
And the next boyband is out there selling the hook to their next happening hit
Happy TV people hustling the newest perfect It
Rightwing media smears jonesing all the well-rehearsed lies
Wondering why they draw flies
Immigration sorrows finding no shelter as the cartels fill mass graves
Who will be saved?
If all is vanity, is
still believing in Justice a sort of insanity?
Moving on to the next calamity
Not a clue,
Zoomanity
With warm, loving memories of my mom,
appreciation and blessing I frame.
Like poets of old, I’m penning this psalm
to give praise to those who earn that good name.
Movers and shakers of the happy home
risk takers, bakers and merrymakers
mood breakers / servants with a rare genome
Salutations to moms, our caretakers.
Even moms sometimes feel failure, defeat;
circumvent arguments, speak peace instead.
Once in a while, she will need to retreat -
grant her a garden with grace overhead.
A garden where mothers can go to pray;
a place that provides strength for each new day.
July 2, 2019
contest: NA the day away
host: Lu Loo
They vacate their personality
They put their hands above their level of subsistence
They paint themselves gold in the midst of admirers
They paint their lying lips with their lipstick of deceit
They divide themselves Like Landed properties
They delude themselves in false pretense
They live on borrowed robes to undress their true personality
They let themselves to be destroyed by the belong syndrome
They deceive the fragile minds of their followers
They Lay their foundation with their sweet tongue and cement it with a thousand lies
They cough out sweet stories to sandwich the brains of their victims
They create an atmosphere of affluence in the eyes of on lookers
They begin to move, shake. and tremble in the face of uncertainty
After all they are the movers and shakers of the society.
The foundation begins to crumble as the lies begins to unearth
Then, the stammering mouth folds up in shame as the true person is revealed
I want to write a poem about men
Because I love men so much
I think they are the coolest creatures on earth
Regal and proud
They have their own way
Of what they think their world should be ruled
They make big decisions, grand decisions
They come to a problem with a let’s solve it attitude
They know how to turn things around
They have an instinct for survival
They think of new ways
Constantly evolve
They don’t let setbacks set the norms
They said what can we do it today
They are one minded head for it risk taker
They set their own rules
Chart their own territory
Set up laws and orders
Society is nothing without men
They are the movers and shakers
Things change
And get done because of them
They don’t mind glory
But usually don’t toot the horn
They let others carry their own tune for them
They are so humble as nature provides it
They are so down to earth and kind
They speak softly yet loudly if it needs to be heard
Men what do we do without them?
We love them
And cherish them
They are the true blood of nature
Hot, full of adrenaline, testosterone
They make up who we are as a human race
Full of vigor full of strength
Glorious, splendor
They walk proud
Never know what it means to lose
Courageous, valorous, men of steel
Lion-hearted, noble, brave
They are what we stand for
Lover
Caretaker
Friend
We couldn’t do without them
And won’t do without talking to them
Life would get so boring
Without their company
Life of the party
They add spice
Flavor
Ingredients needed
For a successful life
Fulfilled and full of dreams
So men
We salute you
Keep on
Doing what you are best at
Turn the world around
Turn this heart of mine
Inside out
Do
On the edge she sits, a frail nonentity;
neither bloom nor spirit, nor secure identity,
as forlorn and shy she trembles, a man
asks her to dance, she must decline.
Stuck in a bubble, just missing the boat,
floating past maybes, a lump in her throat,
she dawdles and dangles, an inch from forever,
a chance to break open, but opting for never.
One day she will make it, step into the limelight,
and pirouette daintily, taking his hand,
there'll be no more jitters or lame-brain excuses
just confident motions in time with the band.
What a relief to be one of a legion
of movers and shakers who're down from the shelf,
she's gliding with grace while avoiding another's toes,
hugging her partner instead of herself.
Strange Fruit choreography
speaks to me of seeing
and smelling
this strange evil fruit
of hatred
and bigotry
and fear
and straight white man
perpetual menace.
Choreographing trauma
only infrequently translates words
of DarkHole poems
Rhetoric hoping to carry carrion reek,
shock of evil awe
and dark timeless burdens
Terrifying wonder
as perceived
within this Strange Fruit DarkView
Rather than more interior unvoiced feelings
of profound inhumane disarray,
denial and division,
hate climates
monoculturing supremacy
Of straight white monotheistically judgmental,
capitalist movers and shakers,
commodifiers
and waste disposers
and arms salesmen
prepared to aim at
semi-domesticated talking animals,
defiant live stock,
breeding stock,
bargain basement slave labor
Too smart to be trusted
not to seek reparations
and revenge
Strange Dark Fruit,
the enslaving racist face
frantically encircling
straight white fascism
in full flagrant,
strange southern fruit,
industrially resilient horror.
Strange Fruit Anthropocene,
with polyculturally felt choreography
of ecopolitical
disempowering/unenlightened
monochromatic lack of appropriate appreciation for color,
spectral circling octaves,
and peak experiences of compassionate
bipartisan drama
Cooperative intent,
without so much
Patriarchal-Capitalist
monotheistic
StrangeFruit
xenophobic trauma.