Best Short Changed Poems
Let me begin by saying that I'm so very sorry
but if I don't kill you, you're going to kill me.
I wish there was another way but no other solution will come to me.
If I Don't Kill You, You're Going To Kill Me.
Through out great and joyous times as well as those of misery
you were never very far. You were always there for me.
Through out my years of tears and fears you were always there to comfort me,
but what else can I do? If I don't kill you you're definitely going to kill me.
If it helps I'll be merciful and kill you very quickly
despite the fact that you would act much less merciful than me.
I've known others who have grown close to you as you have grown close to me.
Many of them died slow lingering deaths. Many pleaded, "Pull the plug on me."
I haven't any reason to not believe that you will kill me any differently,
so you see there's only one thing left for me to do.
I must kill you before you get to kill me.
I've always seen you as a loyal friend until the reality occurred to me
that you're not my friend at all.
You're a parasite, and your host among many others also happens to be me.
You thrive and survive by destroying those who choose to welcome you into their lives.
Everyone you grow close to always gets short changed and tragically, most painfully dies.
You've taken loved ones from me and from others as well.
You've destroyed loving families making their lives a living hell.
You deceived all of us into believing that you could be a helpful friend.
You've taken so much from so many. This madness must now end.
I welcomed you into my life and that's something that I'll always regret.
WITH THESE WORDS I NOW KILL YOU:
"I've Smoked My Last Cigarette"
In Loving Memory
Of They You Took From Me.
First you smoke, then you choke
and then in time you will most probably have a stroke and
then after a few amputations,
and some major operations,
you will finally,
most painfully,
croak.
Need anymore reasons to stop? Here's some:
Go here to continue for You Don't Always Die From Tobacco
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zuh2w2sFRMI
The same cross you nail someone else's sin to; will be the same one used to advertise you.
The day gold became more important than bartering; was a time the world had been bought, and short-changed.
The time the world had been short-changed; was the moment within ourselves, our heart was corruptible.
The moment our heart was corruptible, prompted our souls scattering.
Now we see people selling their souls for worthless pieces of paper.
And we fashion ourselves as unrecognizable characters.
Woke people scream amongst the loudest traffic, but no one listens because gold keeps on glistening.
The crowd will pass an empty cross, and not ignore it. They pick the ugliest sin possible and say you deserve to be on this.
While going to Sunday brunch, knowing they too, deserved it.
Now, I ask you, was the gold worth it?
SYLVIA WAS AN ‘A’ STUDENT
and Alpha woman
The Abyss was bared, and malevolently yawning,
The deep black pit of endless loss to rile
You, and you didn’t know the world was turning;
And you saw the winter trees in mourning
You weren’t short-changed on their willing lack of guile
In the Apollonian myth - your soul was burning.
Telling time too true, that spring was coming,
But you let the yellow sorrow of your bile
Flood the Arcadian dark your soul was scorning-
So, you died, without ever learning
That your Attic grace would give time its shining dial,
You did not know it then, but the world was turning,
The aureole of dawn crept in, to us a warning
We only have our children for a while
The Austrian angst in which your soul was burning,
The sense of happiness missing you by a mile –
In our Aphasian gloom, your words are burning
Up rivers, mountains, roads, with a killing style –
You didn’t know it then, but the world was yearning.
FROM IN MEMORY OF HER 2004, 2008
You stepped all over the depth of me
You tore apart the essence of my being
You short changed the altered parts
Only to realize what you thought was me
Was the illusion you wish you had
Now look at me -
Inhale the fragrance of an illusion lost
Of the manifestation of your mind
This is all of me
The curves
The smile
The walk
The sway of my hips
I know you wish you could
have a second chance
at walking all over the depth of me
Guess what?
All you see today
Was never yours to begin with
Walk away and watch me sway
Watch me dance to my own tune
Not the illusion of your warped mind
I got up
I smiled
I walked away
Watch me sway
While you drown in the illusion of me
©150920151518
Tensely polarized
Fiercely alienated
Furiously devoid of
Space and peace
By deeds unjust
By antics blatant
Short-changed
****-noshed
Orphaned
Offended
From people
To pieces
An equation
Unbalanced
Sinister motives
Documented
Grand strategies
Visible mirrors
To annihilate
To assimilate
Partisan practices
Warped policies
Of can’t pilot
Be passengers
Lost trust
Lacks shine
Lost lives
Eternal
Galvanise
Demonise
Keep on to
Put down
Till one sees
The snake’s
Nude red
Buttocks!
The being , being of human in structure and form
O human being i have observed you, living lavishly
The being , being civil in manner and attitude but yet
Unable to maintain the civilian in the human being
Characterized by materialism , survivalism , then greed
O human being you have been short changed by your desires
The being , being separated from self i observed with great pity
Unable to deal with scarcity of resources , commodities , elements
The character of the human being is no different to that of a scoundrel
Driven by an unfulfilled longing of desires only known to the human being
In all the human beings trial and error on living , the human being speaks peace
But peace is not cheap , no bank in the world can afford the peace for the being
Being human in nature , the being is battling with self betrayal
The animals are better of , the plants are better of ,
But the human being , being human is a big price to pay
The being , being human has betrayed creation in all forms
The betrayal is hard a burden to bear living the being an angry human
Only time will tell what will become of human , as being is all we have.
Rear view mirror
Objects, objectively put, are closer
than they appear. But it doesn’t say it all.
With the fair signs that spewed forth once turning to
a slew of pre-twitter pseudo- tweets since.
I once put it down In form Octa-Tri :
In rhyme scheme: aab, bb, ccc .
(“ At the wheel
At night. Uneasy feel.
Narrow misses, though, in nobody’s midst.
Rows of reflectors mark lanes glaring through the mist,
Comforting coolness and sultry night coexist .
Cell service zones change, ding-dongs the phone
Heart fluttering alone
Night unknown”.)
A row of earthy images it failed
rather than showed ,images with eerie
librations and weary nutations .Which
was not Physics, but physiognomy of life.
Like when bashed by kiddy badasses and
basic arithmetic, or when up higher ,
combative but math a behemoth
all the same, and guided perfunctorily
often, and rarely with the right intent.
In the peccadilloes- round, the Tintern
Abbey Sycamore also loomed dour sans
creativity , but the three trees on
the low sky made sense , and then on to
T.ds. equations and tedious times
soured by sleep and steep sloth.
Ingenious in fair measure , now turning
ingenuous on the proving grounds , after,
in the space of a couple of cusps of
light and sound mom was no more and we
whimpered and simpered under a dad who cared
but did not seem to, in his straight-faced mode
Then came falsely flashing , faintly fuming ,
slapdash years of machines and mega hertz,
eggs and vegs, sex and senescence to remain
for ever weighed down by the wayside whey.
Bringing-up-kids-banality apart
( fed mainly on meds for just cough that recurred);
preferring palm-frond’s loftiness cum
deprivation to urban up-for-grabs
benefaction; and the mess of docs, deaths
and a mossy crock of living pain since.
And all the dicey way , never patted
but p(f)anned; tweaked , untweaked ; harmed, ex-harmed;
banked on , debunked ; short-changed, sort-of-changed ;
lumbering on , alive and a-slumbering
and if anything wondering if it’s
not all the mirror’s prim fault
which never once showed my face.
I guess this had to be said
The root causes for the way
I am kept awake at night
Summer heat no sleep
My only companions are
Past events and the opinions
My soul resents.
I guess it had to be felt
Every reflection and failure
To society, my appearance must
Be on point and tailored
To meet another’s expectations
My soul craves approval like
Success and celebrations emotional
Rollercoasters to ride on certain occasions
As a man fear becomes unacceptable you must
Be the brave one.
I guess this had to be heard Oh, sorry say that again?
I can’t hear you. My soul then becomes numb misunderstood
Makes you feel dumb because you must be the only one when
The second or third comments speak up son. Damn it another crack collateral
fracture to move forward must move faster to escape the disaster
in my life oh well, time to backtrack.
On the bicycle of this thing called my life, I fell off way too many times the bumps and bumps and bruises become a badge of honor look how bright they shine. So how do I heal as I deal with how the pain festers when the scabs of old wounds peel. I heard my brother say toughen up like the Navy Seals. For him, my heart is cold like steel stories I retold myself based on events half real.
I guess this had to be seen the rumors about me are not true I am not really mean
Although I do get mad and half the time I don’t know the words to describe how I feel. Your insults don’t hurt me I devour them like three-course meals. Lets talk about what’s really on this brain how lies were sold and how this soul growing up in the modern education system studied long-term and was short-changed but I guess the was all part of the plot to teach base on rigged curriculums and whether I learned or not teachers still got paid at the end the day.
I guess this had to be sensed since every human I ever crossed paths with subconsciously convinced that parts of my soul do not fit into the mainstream
No one left to pick up the pieces so forget about seeing the bigger picture when the vision is blurry.
I believe
our current overly competitive economy of competition,
our AnthroPrivileged environmental era
of critical climate disarray,
is a blip on the screen of Earth peace history
and autonomic neurosystemic polycultural health
A Win/Lose Zero-Sum Deviant aberration
now drawing to a rabid LoseAnthro/Lose Earth
polarizing close
because both WinEarth history
and WinEarthTribe culture
have been kinder to assertive Win-Win confluence
and unkind to dissonant Win-Lose diffidence
AnthroSupremacist
financial and
monopolistic partisan policy planning
to deplete the opposition,
competing within a short-changed
universe.
I believe
we are in our deepest loving
and beautiful bicameral beating hearts,
full-blooded DNA/RNA logosed/mythosed
bilaterally intelligent syntax
Bad Rad Bodhisattvas dancing
in root systemic circles
of Glad Mutual Messiahs singing
with and for and of and through
deep crowning co-infested
RNA-natural networked life/DNA-spirited systemic love
prime regeneratively in/exforming Earth
messianic tribes
and bodhisattva cells.
I believe we needed to invest
in this competition and deductive-scientific transitional
over-swing of Left-brained linguistic/deductive dominance,
reductive individuating consciousness,
to learn together
how to cooperate our ecological
root systemic
politically empowering dance
And why it is important
to communicate
and invest
and produce enlightened songs
and consume engaging voices
as a globally cooperative network
designed to protect
cherish sacred bodies
and re-polyculture segregated minds
win/win aspiring
to reconnect
Beloved Earth EcoSystemic ProGenitors.
I Believe
we have an internal good health/glad wealth
body/mind
nature/spirit
ego/eco cooperatively owned
and EarthTribe managed landscape
of unfolding Tao SpaceTime
composed of binomial prime function
with Zero-Centric meta-polymorphic
regenerative
crown/root bicameral
messiah/bodhisattva
enlightening/empowering
co-intelligence.
I believe
singing is what Anthros can say
with resonant performance wealth
AND
dancing is what EarthTribes can do
with resilient engaging health.
I believe
we are a Society of Unitarian Universalist Bodhisattva CoOperators
within EarthTribe's self-synergizing evolutionary agenda.
Bonds are breaking cold
Upon the heart is all wealth
Nothing left but self
Secure in our fear
Violence has no heart left
Progress stumbles here
None depend again
Has love depended before
I have only me
The school of want gone
What can I learn without love
But hunger again
Guns without ears laugh
Machines without heart embraced
Victims of progress
I haven't got what it takes to quit
'just play my hand n' get on with it
some might pray or say it's written in the stars
Holding up answers with exclamation marks
toss an easy catch, all passions are released!
strike another match, noncommittal and care-free
you wanna' slow't down, then I'm gonna' get off
'paid for my ticket, now I'm not gonna' stop
'swear it's like a habit to be hoodwinked n' short changed
but this time we're gonna' go the whole, damn way
this time I'll go the, whole, damn way
down in the valley we were almost lost
with the sounds of the river n' the light so soft
th' jury dispersed when the judge didn't show
th' accused left standing n' th' case was never closed
deft slight of hand, murder in the first degree
void of reprimand, footloose n' fancy-free
the wraith on your mast and your blinking ****
will guide my stars until my days are done
but did you ever stop for a moment t'ponder
the loneliness of the wonder that precedes the thunder
the loneliness of the wonder that precedes the thunder
Murmur no things
or strings of sounds...
Could not care less
more-ish whispers
were Wicked
Whips of Words-
Weighted.
Tongue- lashing sharp
fork- tine Torture.
Cat-0-nine-one-one-tales...
Thirty-nine...
Forty-less-one
thrashing...
thrashing...
Thrashing...!
P
l
u
m
b
l
i
Cut, then
Spliced
r
a
m
aught - 0 - matic -ally
u
t
t
e
s-t-r-e-t-c-h-e-d and s-t-r-u-n-g out
taut ~O~ill~O~gee~call
sayings S-P-L-A-Y-E-D out.
Taught NO one
any thing
new
Knew hear-say-
Say! Did you hear THAT???
(Did YOU know...?)
? :-0 ? :-o ? :-0 ?
Oh Oh...
Tongues plaited and tied
Gutless intentions
Implied
Allied...
Bound between mongers
pitted
unpitying
Pitbulls against distraught,
double-bind on-slaughter
pale-faced pugilism
mimics
Mummery and mimed thoughts
~acted~out~
played O-U-T
OUCH!
Bought into
Hearts wrung out
bloodless
Bloody hands wringing
in Delight-
Delighted!
de-lighted...
Delight-Full?
Murmur nothing
need less>>>>>>
Need less to say
" it" @ All.
Hot of the press,
hot air blows
seeds of doubts
s-OW-n n-OW!
Profuse Grrrrr- OW-th
Hot-head heed-less
not Grrrrr- OW-n up.
Groans are unmouthed
sounds
sown shut :-
No more hurt
Feelings
Hidden
Humiliation's humus
Not humorous.
Hideous "justice"
bids
Blurts be bought
at a price-
Caught out
Pulled-up-Pule
short-circuits
short-changed
~my~O~my
~chained~
~thrashing~it~out.
thrashed...thrashed....Thrashed!
within an inch
~~ ~~~'~ ~~~~...
nihil -is-tic
parsitic
Tick-Tacky-Town
Game of noughts.
Game of cross thoughts..x-O
Game's off-
Colour two- tone
Voice
Not "giving lip"-
Zipped~~~
:-O gains nil
By Mouth.
:- naught -:
nada
null
X
void
O
14-07-2017~Aqua Marine.
The shock that I felt was enormous,
as the tab on the cat food I pulled,
a fountain of biscuits shot out of the top-
the box, it was actually full !
I stood, disbelieving, bewildered,
this never had happened before,
I finally came to my senses again
and swept all the bits off the floor.
'Contents are liable to settle',
I've seen it on loads of foodstuffs,
in some cereals, where half of it is fresh air
and what's left is just not quite enough.
And bags of crisps, don't get me started,
whatever the flavour or range,
seven flakes, powdered crumbs
which just coat both your thumbs
and then leave your tongue feeling short-changed.
Forgive me, for always believing
(and I think most folks do, by and large)
that the air we breathe in now and always has been
since the dawn of mankind, free of charge.
So why do the makers of products
include something already free?
Just give us lots more of the thing I paid for
and leave all the breathing to me.
And when my time one day is over
and no longer am in fine fettle,
the box I'm carried off in,
on the lid of the coffin
write ' contents are liable to settle'.
tell them i’m gone
tell them i’m gone to change my name
give them any name
i’ll not give them another name
tell them i’ll not take my father’s name
no more father than i’m my own
i do not create
i’m not responsible
i have no ownership over my makings
so i’ll take this name i’ve got
for the moment
tell them
and i’ll go short-changed to be cast again
yes
tell them i’ll go and change my name
not have my name changed
and come out again unchanged
tell them again i’ll not take my father’s name
yes
tell them that
tell them i’ve gone to change my name
my very own name
and yet keep the name i’ve gone to change
yes
tell them that
tell them when i’m there
i’ll see why josephus broke the essenic law
why marx the mighty essene changed his name
and note
why the ribonucleic-acid embargo in between
why the dna father-son short supply
i am a cell lodged in the molecular-memory-millennia
i’m the agent of growth and decay
i see the cells strung out in an embryonic fantasy riddle
while intercourse was still permissible
i proclaim
i propound
in my genes the spermatic stimulation
the evolutionary process
the woman the link-breaker
keeps it all going longer and longer
until i stand and transmit
until we reach out into the micro-wave length
listen in on ourselves
in the multi-macro-cosmic network :
the tv stations
the electronic transmitters
the nether-world subliminal messages
all shall interlock
and we remain tuned in
sitting bolt-tight-up
in our nudging squeezing cells
no more afearing nor doing
no more no less that is
than sucking a python diet
we’ll do without rousing sex-play
courtship nor foreplay
or even sans monetary excuse
we’ll do it for ourcells
in ourcells
by ourcells
then i’ll not have to go away
nor will you have to tell them
‘he thinks he’s gone to change his name
his only name
and quite probably not take his father’s name’
rendes-moi mon nom unique
Copyright ©: T. Wignesan, 1965 - London from the collection : tell them i’m gone. Paris : 1983. (rev. 2012)
Grizzled veterans gathered about their brother's bier,
To reminisce and honor their late departed peer.
They talked of yesterday when they were young and gay,
The good and bad times they'd shared along the way.
They had shared the hardships of an infantry rifle squad,
But they had survived by the merciful grace of God!
Now, the march of time was beginning to take its toll.
Another hero had answered the final call of the roll.
They laughed recalling his prankish streak;
The times he'd cheered them up when times were bleak;
The times he'd short-changed the sheets on their cots;
At reveille finding their boot strings tied in knots!
It was well known that he was their sergeant's bane.
He likewise held the army and sergeants in disdain!
In battle's din they'd want no other at their side.
They lost a true brother, a loyal buddy, when he died.
With the sound of "Taps" he began his eternal bourne.
Nine grieving brothers were left behind to mourn.
They gave him a final salute and shuffled off so slow.
Alas, who among these heroes will be the next to go?
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)