Best Parliaments Poems
Mongrels gyrating on the edge of town
This it now- its going down
The chant electric, the doomsday count
It matters not that no one speaks a word
We knew it was coming, but you havent heard
Just know how I loved you , go fly little bird
A mass of hungry hatred flash of glimmering blades
Blood of the martyrs, murder and Hades
Dance of the hyena, foul flinging dung
Clinging our candles only looking up
Feeble little fingers summoning the Light
A promise in our prayers armless in a fight
This is my cry, tell it to the world
From the podiums and parliaments
Dont believe a word
A blessed soil which perspires cashews and coughs out black pepper,
its global banner of rice is raised so high
which is only beaten by one.
Specializing in the juices of the commonest limbless reptile
with cuisines highly recommended by the parliaments of health.
From dragons to birds;
the turtle to the horse;
the minds of its people have well been bonded to these,
making historians marvel at which exactly
helped in denting the American military pride.
My poems are not for leisure
They are guns
Aim at imperial anatomy
Notes slipped to a teller’s eyes
For easy withdrawal
Of ancestral deposits
My poems are not for leisure
They are flowers for graves
Of dead theories and foolish warriors
Who slave for vanity
Flowers cover well the rot
Of lovers’ insanity.
My poems are not for leisure
They are for children
Who have heard the piper’s call
After the elevation of the rats
Who put banks on crutches
Of tarp funds, bailing out
On mortgages where homeless
Families wander
In insensitive arguments of the street
My poems will never be silent
Against Godless lies
And crooks impenitent
In Congress or Parliaments
Striking from the dark of consciences
Bleeding alone in teary trenches
Gasping the green gas
Of laws muting its militant lines
I give you my poem – not anesthesia
Just wine.
For those avid crossword groupies of which I are one,
I'm offering free of charge vital data to add to your fun.
So you're stuck on 15-down for the name of a barren of mules!
Groups of creatures you can now name if you use this set of rules!
A group of apes is a shrewdness and a gang of asses is a pace.
Tigers are a streak and you'd better streak should they give chase!
Can you believe that skittish plovers are called a congregation?
(I wonder, perhaps Baptist, Lutheran, Catholic or other denomination?)
You might see a cackle of hyenas or a tower of giraffes at zoos,
Or if on a Kenyan safari a bloat of hippos or a fleet herd of gnus.
The name for a prickle of porcupines is an appropriate moniker for sure!
A sleek bunch of ferrets is called a business, and, why, I'm unsure.
Pesky squirrels are called a scurry and a warren is for rabbits.
(There are many warrens of rabbits due to their promiscuous habits!)
Badgers are grouped as a cete and leopards are known as a leap;
Moles are known as a labor and a herd or drove identifies sheep.
Parliaments of owls meet in trees and eagles in convocations.
Jellyfish waft about in smacks and peacocks strut in ostentations!
Screeching cormorants are a gulp which sounds mighty weird.
Steer clear of a crash of rhinos since they are to be feared!
Charming finches are called a charm and larks an exaltation,
Turkeys a rafter, frogs an army and starlings a murmuration.
Locusts are known as a plague and cockroaches an intrusion.
An unkindness of ravens and their raucous caws just causes confusion!
Groups of humans are known as Republicans, Democrats or Nazarenes,
Jerks and morons but this barely includes all human species by any means!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved
One Nation.
8 social class groups;
63 million people;
50,000 millionaires; and
100,000 homeless.
One Nation.
One Nation.
Two parliaments; two assemblies
6 mainstream parties;
650 MPs; (27 ethnic minorities MPs); but
35% of the population never voted.
One Nation
One Nation
14 million children; 25,000 schools
7% of pupils are in private school;
31% of MPs attended private school; but
3.5 million kids are still in poverty
One Nation.
One Nation
134 Prisons
90,000 Prisoners
145,000 Police officers; but
1,000 deaths in police custody without one conviction.
One Britain;
One Nation?
Mike Concise © 2015
www.mikeconcise.com
Note: The political idea of One Nation in British politics was coined by Benjamin Disraeli (1804–1881) and used by countless politicians since, to refer the duty owed by the 'better off' to help those less well endowed and fortunate. That irrespective of class, Britian should not be two nations of rich and the poor, but rather one, united society.
I have found my voice
at humanity’s eleventh hour
I have found my voice because
I called upon humanity’s wisdom
and asked if I can help to deliver
to you
some units of joy
and lessons of love
so I ask you to hear humanity's inevitable lovesong
ancient
humble
soothing
And deliver me
deliver us
deliver me
on the days Jefferson spoke of inalienable rights
deliver us into that night of human liberation
when czars were overthrown and utopia envisioned
deliver me on the day Martin had his dream
deliver us on the day Paris’ commune became community
deliver me
deliver us
I say deliver me
And deliver us
Because without the us
there is no me
And without the me
There is no us
humanity’s struggle
constant argument between
Me
And
Us
The me and the us
Were at
Lexington Concord
Gettysburg
St. Petersburg
Stalingrad
Omaha beach
Paris, Prague, and Mexico in 1968
Tianenmen Square in 1989
And Occupy Wall Street
The me and the us
Are at kitchen table
Deciding whose childhood is spared
The me and the us are at
Parliaments all over the world
Deciding whose life is worthwhile
The me and the us are at the UN
Deciding which nations are worthwhile
The me and the us
History has been about the me and the us
History’s first experiment in liberation
Stalin and world interrupted, still insisting on the me
so I ask you, humanity
I implore you
In the name of so many terrified faces
In the name of so many torture chamber places
I ask you here and now
At humanity’s eleventh hour
brink of armaggedon's world war
to
Deliver me
And deliver us
Deliver us from humanity's dark night
let the children and future generations breathe
freedom's air
Deliver me
Deliver us
Deliver me
Deliver us.
Hand a pen ,break the silence.
Let the world hear our voice.
Write a song, create a poem.
Hand the tool for our future.
This is the high time to act, to react.
Too many people, too many lives.
Had wasted and gone so fast.
Through terrorism's act,attack.
Hand a pen, tell the world.
Children are suffering around the globe.
No food, no shelter,no clothes.
Will there be a future,where is hope?
Nation stands over nations.
No clear visions, full of illusions.
Poverty seems has no solution.
Industries causing pollution.
Hand a pen, speak your mind.
Royals are ruling,ruining lives.
Dictators,parliaments,ministries.
Why they can't solve these miseries?
No division, fair consumption.
Spread the wealth in proper distribution.
No partiality, kill crabmentallity.
Pull each other hands to serenity, equality.
Light the torch, spread the news.
This is the moment to hear our views.
Wear the weapon of restoration.
Hand a pen, make a new dimension.
The book of torts is the new manual for life
The law is king and
The government must always be praised
Efficient and effective parliaments
Are measured by legislative prowess
As laws multiply
So does government success
They believe only in themselves
So all is good and that is best
When friendship and cohesion should be encouraged
Suspicion and accusation is codified
In a world where the static reality of a regulation
Cannot account for the variances of human interaction
We have laws that stymie individuality
Rights are temperamental
Democracy is multi-faceted
Today we are afraid of terror
So we legislate against the man
Not facing us in the mirror
The misdemeanors of a selfish few
Act as a rod to beat compliance from all
The law that was a reaction
To a particular person’s misdemeanors
Applies to everyone
Even those with less sin
Blinded by rhetoric
We believe that wrongs that are topical fads
Must be legally deterred
Irrespective of the goad we pass on to
The inheritors of our short sightedness
The net of authority captures indiscriminately
The cry of unfairness would be too late
When we are forced to be reactive
After the seductive romance
Of our legislators’ public consultation is over
And we get laws that bite ferociously
Government popularity is the aim
Phantom enemies are created
So they can be legally slain
By a government that
Sends liberty down the drain
Vote wisely if you wish to have a say
Or take whatever bolshie government
That does not understand fair play
Transition
A grandson of the revolution of late 90s
The progeny bored in evolution the 21st
Dynamic spells the prospectives of son's
Daughter's of soil. Mwana wevhu stunga.
Deep thoughts from within depths, ours
Guts inflamed by the political ulceration
From the roots of revolutionary liberties
That was spelt far from a distant, tsunga
Tangenhamo was all the comrade voted
Rugare then never did he rendered, and
To out my grif was indeed a taboo craft
Dilemmas I to have embraced in distress.
The thoughts kept going on and on, an
Expedition in nous that bore no potency
No power was for the people by people
And kinship spelt breached by the odds
More misery kept cascading in and in, a
Day spelt years not that I was in chains
But bondage was all my grandpa's grant
Not that I was a slave but I endured more
Persistence and resilience became mine
Remedies in the 2002 era, Fast tracking
Hyper inflation, Corruption, Destruction,
Followed the walls brought down, tsunga
Inclusively the struggle was ablaze, spelt
A ceaseless brawl, brother's got lashed
Sister turned an Orangutan, savages of
That phases and never time did awaited.
The process of shaking the old horses
For the new ones became a grandeur so
Rinsed that bored detention by the blue
Suited brother with grey topped shirts...
Till today a brilliant beam shade off the
Darkness from a new dawn, Drawn from
The proficient past. Is it the same notion
In motion to embrace. Rugare or tsunga.
How I would love to embrace the phrase
Tangenhamo, Manifestations of Rugare
In this era spelt a new dispensation by
Those learneds on the stratagem apex.
If only the sentiment of democracy will
Be driven forth by the elites and those
Whom sits in the parliaments then I will
Embrace the old foster in the new era...
To welcome once again my kinship that
Has been crushed alike a crunch bargain.
And no more manifestos and speeches
Promises meant be broken. Rugare huya
DOES CHANGE CHANGE?
For history is wont to repeat itself
Ever reneging, constant turning on the hinges
For the old in nature’s obeisance
Enter oblivious existence
That the present may succeed the past
For things now visible and feasible
Were once formless vision, thoughts and whispered words
Does change change?
Will there be housing unit or tourist centre in the moon?
Will a white smoke produce a black pope
Will monarchy be separated from British democracy
Will Christian and Muslim find a common ground?
For the present order and scheme
Were the embryonic idea in the belly of the past
For just above some 1oo years ago
Popular commerce was the transatlantic slave trade
The equivalent of 21st century crude oil and narcotics
Long before Wilberforce crossed Hull’s bridge
Does change change?
Will terrorism go the way of the dead and forgotten
Will Palestine find Stately peace?
Will Osama ever find the salaam in Islam
Will Hamas and Zionists find a common factor of human race
For barely 15 years ago
Apartheid’s spectre stood stoically in South Africa
The Black now reign where they once toiled like lesser humans
For small-pox once held terror court
Near and far, leaving more casualties than wars
Dreaded like its 21st century incarnation –HIV
Less than 50 years ago
Black lived as slaves in sugarcane plantations across US
Now US first family is full blooded black
Does change change?
Will HIV become a mere word of old English
Will guns and nuclear weapons
Enrich and adorn our museum in 25 years now
Would Iran be rich in Uranium or people?
Will peace find a permanent seat in security council?
For it was Kings and Princes some time before
Reigned over lesser mortals as Lords and Masters
of the known world called empires and kingdoms
Now the emerging relics of our collective past
Wall-posters of where we have been, and regal tourist attractions
Government houses now in place of kingly courts; parliaments for palaces
Does change change?
Will semantics of poverty change to… say… property or plenty?
Will there be equality of the classes
Will woman truly be equal to man
Will there come a time when the day will nor break?
Will science conquer death?
Some time ago
Women were best house-keeping, voteless second class citizens
15th Saturday October 2009.
There was a aseason
When love was love
the educated are uneducated
hunger was hung in daylight
when sins were seen in scenes
There was a season
when poverty was prohibited
obscenity totally abhored
the gods are justice par
excellence
when people peopled with
purpose abound
There was a season
when earth has no earthlings
Rivers Niger and Benue were
at peace
Augusts were filled with
august events
WaZoBia means come
when there was a country
We are in a season
when the winter wins
people sums in summer
harmattan harms the poor
when things are no longer at
ease
We are in a season
when vultures are in
parliaments
religious overseers become
coffers seers
bards are turned to harbingers
when the falcon no longer
hears the falconer
We are in a season
When iniquity is ubiquiteous
democracy raped in public
gaze
tyrannism is re- christened
and democratized
when the center can no longer
hold
We are in a season
when the blind are experts in
colour prediction
the lame are announced
winners in relays
the deaf hears the sound of
gun- shots
the dumb lead in religious
hymns
when one is man of the
people in disguise
We are in a season
when the things above are
above us
the things beyond are beyond
us
senses no longer makes sense
modernity embraces
immorality
when heaven and earth lack
rapport
We are in a season
when kings are pimps
queens becoming madams
the good lack goodness
the bad bar the bards
the ugly remain ungodly
when things have fallen apart
I see a season
when angels will live in Los
Angeles
food will become free in Free
Town
people will go to overseas through Amansea
people will differenciate a
truth from a fact
when policies will not be
politicized
I see a season
when battles will be battled
death will become dead
immortality will be mortalized
when time will be made
timeless
I see a season
when penury will perish
praises sung in paradise
sickness will become sick
holidays will be made
holy days
we'll have a common
idiosyncrasy
when the arrow of
God is awaited
There was a season
We are in a season
I see a season
The society around us proclaims to be civilized
What for is the education if we do not realize
The harm caused by cruel discrimination device
Why the global Constitution states equal rights?
Called “Man’s world” when Mother gives birth
Infuriating evils at places upholding principles
Creating obstacles seeing Women’s conquest
Forgetting she is also a daughter in self Lust
Boasting about progress and globalizing world
Mentality of mind yet so pathetic full of dirt
Preferring White even when “Black” is first
Then speak at parliaments about global trust …
Fighting among races in the names of religion
Then showing loyal worship and dedication
Blood red hatred in head for fellow brothers
Raging fury in the minds of small children
Everyone silent because it’s not affecting self
Ignorance on faces when grieved requested help!
Its’ high time to change the outrageous game
Else no soul will be left breathing to put on blame….
In parliaments of war and glory
You moved in ways marking life's truth,
To seal a vow of destined mission
Guiding your path…a brazen, uplifting voice
Sparked by this incessant passion which ignited
A nation besieged by roars of combat.
For you came providently into a world
Ripped by shadows of battleground's unrest;
As the taste for liberty against a Fuehrer's tyranny
Sought brave callings to round the fire,
To wrestle, capture, and break this nemesis…until
A gathering of storm strode along
Barriers of Dunkirk's dilemma, unity among
Friendly nations, and decades of unequaled integrity--
Oh, such ultimate victory hailing mankind's spirit !
In modern times' need for a righteous governance,
Society whispers your name... another comeback, yet
After long moons of patriotism, of unflagging devotion,
Heaven’s stars called your name…
Finally, resting among divine kings.
Tribute Verse Contest of Brian Strand
I can’t breathe,
I can’t breathe, you are suffocating me sir,
Please give me some space and let me live,
And if you are trying to suffocate me,
Suffocating my words to come out,
I can still swallow them for now, but I swear I will release them,
Release them and openly and aggressively,
Later, and only later,
They will convey my message,
The mighty message
Breathing, yes breathing the clean air in the age of nuclear human waste,
If you are trying to suffocate me,
And preventing me to breathe, there are thousands, rather millions
Who are ready to breathe on my behalf, and I do trust them,
Because, like me,
And unlike me in status,
Still in need for breathing clean air
I know that the environment is contaminated,
And I know that the air is polluted,
The parliaments, the governments, the states,
The army, the politicians who are all pretending to breathe
But deep down they all know that breathing clear and clean air requires,
Courage, commitment, and more important a stronger will,
To feel,
Breathing under the shade of apathy is not easy, I know,
But I think it is time for change on how to breathe,
Inhale and exhale with honesty,
But to me and millions like me, just wish one hope only in this worldly life
Just to simply, breathe, and you are still pressing your knee on my innocent neck,
Preventing me to breath,
I am not asking you much,
I am not requesting my full human and civil rights to be heard and respects,
But just to breathe,
Please let me breathe!
No wonder why I have this naked head
These weak claws, Neither have I ever
Wondered why I feed chiefly on carrion
Rotting carcass dressed by fellow humane
Ages past starving, preying, pitying shame.
Carrion bird been termed, so wary I envy
The keen and noble eagle whose social unit
Portray efficiency and tranquility in plays
How he is gifted in soaring up highs spred
He preys on fresh flesh, he hustles nothing.
Vultures we been cased by mother nature
For we toil yet others birds emblems might
We long for the deprived freedoms, denied
And fed on their remains. Avarice being no
Shame for no honor is related to my name.
Black birds whom seize by violence, preys
Like us, feeds greedily stood forth our Sire.
Corrupt ravens whom disperse parliaments
Owls on the watch, waiting to grace thier
Chance too, damned birds of disgust, cursed.
5 January 19
Lowlifediarist