Best Plebs Poems


The Nature of Wisdom

Every flower has its own color
With annual observation,
this we springtime discover

Give a womb kernel cede
of acknowledgment
To the spectrum birthright
of each other

We are all one,
tho’ from a different umbilical mother

Notice the bloom of time,
come rain   ...   come sunshine

First eclipse dawn —  
tyranny tares grew with the 
the golden amber grain —
 
The face of nightshade oppression
had a dark tone
Steel magnolias was the fetter fragrance
of the pyramid rule chain 
Pharaohs, (of no melanin discretion)
who wore the ornamental godhead, 
sat atop the pinnacle
While the slaves were downtrodden fed
at the bottom below

Their crowning achievement
was to erect great tombs
But papyrus thieves in the temple
stole the toil of the ruins

Skin for skin,
this is a-fertile sowing season true
Each summer solstice empire
passes into autumnal decline view

Every bird has its own color
And the length of each wingspan
differs from one another

Take an umbilical hover,
acceptance flight
To the spectrum birthright
of each diverse other

We are all one,
tho’ tear delivered
joyously from a different womb mother

Notice the migration of time
come swaddle skybound   ...   come burial ground

Last obscure sunset
was the Legion silo bane talon — 

The thorny wrinkles of oppression
had a pale monotone
Caesars, (of no pigment distinction)
        who wore the prickly spiked laurel bled,
sat atop the carrier chariot
While the plebs were commercial shackle led
to the amphitheater above

Their crowning achievement
was to deify great destructive bombs
As scrip crooks in the palace
pilfered the taxable gift of the palms

Skin for skin   ~   Epidermal blend,
this is birds of prey a-nesting season true
Autumn equinox tech empires
passed into cold war, nuclear winter view

The nature of wisdom
teaches cross-pollination pure acceptance love:
Tho’ each fruit has its own color
Why then, doth this root of affinity divides us?

This is crystal clear!

Yet, what is the color of water,
of which thee Mist of Life doth bring?

It is snowflake known — 
Tears of repentance
is from whence salvation doth spring

Unemployment

UNEMPLOYMENT....

All we hear about is unemployment,
Appears to be a global torment,
Couldn't we think of creative solutions,
New inventions, using less pollution?
New ideas, concepts for the plebs to need,
What can we invent today? Yes indeed!
We could start by teaching global literacy,
Imagine how many books we'd need!
What about one holistic food capsule,
Made in Australia, daily and healthful?
Then we could grow forests and sell trees,
The world does need oxygen to breathe!
We could sell the world books and food pills,
Get your own ideas, we're not such dills,
Let's hear this motto in our schools,
What can we invent today? Beautiful!

Premium Member -The Princess And The Plebs


She always thought she was a cut above others

The most beautiful, the richest , the best

A self confidence unbearably arrogant and explosive

When with her, peoples patience were put to the test


Outer beauty, plastic enhancements, riches is all that mattered

She was insincere, rude and vain

Never gave or did for another

In her eyes other women were unattractive and plain


Committed to a lunch work meeting

At a restaurant by the sea

It was a beautiful sunny day

Being with work plebs is not where she wanted to be


Glammed up to the eyeballs 

She reluctantly arrived

Disgusted at having to be even near the plebs

She went to have a cigarette outside


She could see the plebs through the window

Looking at them down her perfect nose

Hoping to be rid of these deadbeats soon

In their embarrassing low budget clothes


Her negative ,superior body language was obvious

As she stood outside full of false pride

When several seagulls flew above her and let rip

Raucous laughter heard from the plebs inside
© Deb M  Create an image from this poem.


Melbourne Cup Day

Yes, it's the racing carnival,
Fashionistas so topical,
Significance trivial,
Lovely fillies,
Eye candy,
Drunk and silly,
Studs in suits,
Looking beaut,
Glitterati,
Haves and wannabes,
For the paparazzi,
Doyens of the racing industry,
You all look fabulous,
Gambling magnanimous,
Thoroughbreds' gloss,
Media hype and dross,
Great racing day,
Booze, bets and babes,
Stuff the plebs today,
Our public holiday,
Melbourne Cup Day!

Garbology

Yes, in Oz they've called an election,
PR on media heading in our direction,
Bland and blander for our selection,
Do they sell their souls for superannuation?
Politicians are deemed to be public servants,
By the plebs, for the plebs, now observant,
For the benefit of the plebs, in Australia,
Is being forced to vote a failure?
No such thing as a Western Liberal Democracy,
Prepare for BS for you and me,
Largely unfundable policies,
Today is Day One of Garbology!

Superstructures

SUPERSTRUCTURES

Skyscrapers in every nation,
Signs of mankind's aspiration,
Millions of plebs face starvation.
No dwellings for them, deprivation,
No, skyscrapers they keep building,
How many lilies are they gilding?
What else could they be doing?


Aphorisms

Life is for the living,
Life is for the loving,
Love is for the giving,
We do live vicariously,
Don't take things too seriously,
Let's make extinction extinct,
How? Let's have a think!
Work and pray for Peace,
For plebs and critters we keep,
Let's preserve more habitats,
For wildlife and people chaps,
Exile brainwashing dictators,
Breed positive motivators,
Redirect capitalism,
Too much conflict over 'isms
Masks our real problems.
World makes too many munitions....
Create diverse solutions,
Too many mind pollutions,
Let's write some aphorisms,
Life is for the living, 
Life is for the loving.

Premium Member Gilded Ashes

Gold
                 pure precious 
           alluring shining pining 
pharaohs emperors plebs commoners 
          repelling dulling whining 
                   crude waste
                        Dust


Diamante Poetry For Fun 
Your Choice of Theme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Caren Krutsinger 
8/26/2021

Premium Member Itchy Fingers

Itchy Fingers?

I don’t mind dying in a nuclear war.
As long as it’s quick, not a lingering bore.
It’ll give the elite a chance to see the cloud.
Kill off the plebs in a crimson shroud.

I know their fingers are itching.
To press the oblivion button.
See what happens, 
from Moscow to Sutton.
and all the places in between,
They’ll watch it from their bunkers.
All the beautiful people I mean.
The psychopaths who own us
And control our pointless lives.
We the workers who feather their hives.

So, press it Musk, Trump, Putin and all else
Hidden in your bunkers focusing on self.

Obliterate the world. 
And the useless kind
You can do it to me.
I really don’t mind.

David Cox 27/02/24
© Dave Cox  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The Plebs

They don’t understand! They seem to not care! They should be so grateful that we’re even there!

So what if we make mistakes here and there, now and again. So what if they die, so what if they cry! Inequality needs maintenance which we wholeheartedly try to defend!

The poor cannot be allowed to live like the rich. The poor have to pay for our yacht, our wine, our parties and then crawl in their ditch.  

Politics is now a free cash machine. But only for the ‘privately educated’ if you know what I mean!

They’ll just have to suffer and take the blame. They’ll just have to live like Dickensian peasants all over again.

England is ruled by greed and greed is what we’re here to feed. They’ll spend the next twenty five years paying for our lies. But who cares, their lives are as worthless as flies.

Our Daily Bread

I'm laying here wondering
why things aren't free
could it be society blundering
that could be the key

I do not condone
the behavior of ancient Rome
yet they had entertainment
that didn't require a payment

I'll stay on that subject
a particular aspect
it was offered to the Plebs
Patricians and Equestrians regardless of their threads

Something when awry with Adam Smith's stand
a result of a greedy clan
this stuff just went through my head
"Give us this day our daily bread"

Old and New 1: Circus

OLD AND NEW 1  : CIRCUS

Giraffe on anxious heels
bought in Sandton, toddle 
along with intense haste
a dream point unheard
lipstick smudges, mascara 
leaks of AK47 dust she rifled

Bullfrog madly croaks
vying for a place in a stagnant 
pool, scoffing brandied chocolate 
pinched nerves, heart infested
throat on a tightrope 
Is the net below safe ?

Doe dark-eyed, hips to sink
into, marbled beauty stuck 
in corner stage believing that
the circle offered freedom, unable 
to move for want of a thatched 
roofed house, chrysanthemumed

Lions and lionesses rounded pillars
new regal maned performers
late for debate, entrance timed
for a precise shapely attack
on buck across the atrium who
practiced prances early morning 

In the middle stood Pharaoh
with invisible crook and flail
a sleek panther serpent eyed 
veils of disinterest, ears on end
at plebs in the arena, acts like
phantoms danced along a
smooth mental screen

Fidget they would on
maroon re-upholstered 
benches over which not 
even Bach could flow
mints popping pockets

On the horizon they 
disappeared into an African 
circus becoming marula trees
on our border 


©GhairoDanielsPoetry1996

Oil

Oil
Some people are green with no life experience. Wet behind the ears. They can't work a washing machine. Life for them will be hard. Vertical learning curve.
Others are yellow. Real back stabbing bozos who'll step on your corpse. Not looking over their shoulder as you burn. The worst type of plebs. I know many.

Full Disclosure


Half wits spouting half-measures,
never fully investing
in the future of 
flesh-and-blood commodity — 
You and me

Air head bottlenecks 
spewing half-hearted promises,
full belly lies
Bloated heifers udder scam skim siphoning 
our children’s milk money empty

Half mast, drunken pirate eyepatch guides
vomit heave half-pint integrity
Taking morally challenged parrot plebs 
on a suicide, 
Styx River reprobate ride

The hidden cost, 
those Tasmanian half-breeds
always hide

But full disclosure 
can keep the safety hatch portal
partially open for only so long
It’s truly sad ...
When a full deck of divided people 
got half a mind to follow 
what’s royal toilet flush wrong

Premium Member Fanfares of the Common Man

At the breakdown of ages man disappears and reappears
In the form of an easy-to-use scheme
Over the last half-century, man has been replaced
By technocratic ideas of what a man is
But the real man can no longer fit into these forms,
which have shrunk like old clothes.
At the breakdown of ages, man is left to himself.
Politicians and their servants are becoming more paranoid,
Which isn’t surprising at all, and the common 
Become even more apolitical than before. 
At the breaking of the ages, there is a time of no time.
Reality postulates wars, destruction 
and the breaking of ties for nothing, 
But simply by virtue of political games,
Their uncontrollable inertia of enmity.
Enmity has no calculated cost, and no rational reason,
Proposed justifications only multiply sorrowful nonsense.
Politicians want admiration, no matter the context,
Common people want to be left alone
At least in the negative sense of peace
Criticise us all you want, just leave us alone
If we're so unteachable, then don't teach us,
Go teach your children instead, save your time 
Don't adopt or foster us, for God's sake. 
Take all your money, grab us with taxes, spend it as you like,
Run secret emissions if you don't have enough money.
Declare yourself champions of the universe 
In all your favourite genres, fests, competitions.  
Award yourselves whatever prizes you like,
Just don't impose for the zillionth time  
Your legalised insanity to us plebs, 
We're not your doctors or patients.
Complain to God, MP, GP, journalist, priest
About our impenetrable stupidity, just get off our backs.
Lock yourselves in some suitable metaphysics,
Tell in the school textbooks about you, the greats
About your heroic struggle for our freedom 
In choosing a bank and an insurance company.
All power ends with aging and loss of meaning.
The survivors of your era
Will go by about their business looking at their phones 
Past your pigeon pooped statues
And for the younger generation
You will be just a line they’ll be forced to remember
At the history exam, settled as if on purpose
For momentary forgetting right after passing.

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