The Last Poets
“When the revolution comes,”
Politicians whispered sweet lies,
promising dreams that were never theirs,
while streets echoed with dreams denied,
and voices drowned in blood-stained hope.
Economies built on the backs of the weak,
wealth for the few, while many stayed silent,
coins of gold pooled, but hearts went cold,
hands reached out but never united.
The Last Poets rhymes like Hymns
echoing in alleys,
fingers snap,
feet tap,
words meet the pulse,
the Congo thump lifts hearts,
raw and real,
hip-hop’s roots grow deep—
But what has changed,
in this swirling maze?
Do we still speak the truth,
shout over sirens,
dream beyond the neon flash,
with wide eyes,
still fighting, still asking,
for justice in our sound,
each voice a note,
every story a song?
Wartime stocks plummet.
The Pentagon declares bankruptcy.
The Department of War is closed.
Illegal gun smuggling comes to a halt.
Everyone complies to God’s commandment:
“Thou shall not kill”
Murder becomes obsolete.
“Enemy” is removed from the dictionary.
The results would be phenomenal...
All our time and energy could now be spent on
Earthly emergencies and natural disasters.
Everyday problem solvers become modern day heroes.
Pollution, global warming, over population...
Systematically eliminated.
Governments’ economies never need shut down.
Lost instincts for survival are revitalized...
Priorities diverted to preventing planetary extinction events
And destinies reverted to manifesting the Cosmos.
Everyone embraces cultural diversity
And declares all human beings as Earthlings.
Enlightenment is achievable.
Peace is possible...
Just amputate the Arms race.
Keep your guns permanently locked away.
Buy a telescope.
I saw him upon the platform—
Mr. Trump, with thunder in his voice:
“Solar and wind do not work,
fossil fuels are the true kings of power.
Renewables destroy economies,
and climate predictions are lies.”
The crowd roared,
but I stood in silence,
for it was like watching a comedy staged
in the theatre of despair.
Sometimes wealth makes fools look wise,
and the wise appear fools.
Is this the leader
346 million souls must follow?
Is he blind to burning forests,
to rising seas,
to storms that tear apart
the very fabric of the earth?
Machiavelli once said:
“The first method to measure a ruler’s intelligence
is to see the men who stand beside him.”
If Benjamin Netanyahu is his chosen friend,
then the flock is no surprise—
for birds of prey circle together.
And if this is the inheritance he leaves,
a denial of truth,
a betrayal of future generations,
then let history write it plain:
The legacy of Donald Trump
is not greatness,
but a Legacy of Shame.
another cheery blossoms from economies of scale
Despite the fear mongering
(phony news) (Socialist Blues)
American's economy is doing
well – not, in a hand-basket,
going to hell. Today's new
jobs report, 228,000 created,
America being resuscitated --
(Sorry for tariffs, no other choice)
(Capitalist’s again have an enterprising
sane voice)
(Despite Socialist Boos, by adopting
Free-trade World Economies will all
prosper~ and not lose!)
Those corrupt closer to home,
The little man is no-longer your
manipulated cash-cow – we had
sense of being ripped off~ Musk,
is only showing us, by who and
how.
They battle on and show no shame
The other side must take the blame.
And each side thinks that it can win
Punishing others for past sin.
Increase the suffering more and more.
Kill and maim to settle the score.
Year upon year of attrition,
A desperate situation.
For more weapons each side must pay
Then economies in decay.
The other side must take the blame.
They battle on and show no shame .
Right Now/Tony Adamo
the subway rumbles,
a symphony of voices,
spoken words drifting,
like jazz notes swirling,
through twilight streets,
trumpet sharp,
trombone smooth,
the city breathes,
tongues dance to the Latin beat.
The Last Poets
“When the revolution comes,”
Politicians whispered sweet lies,
promising dreams that were never theirs,
while streets echoed with dreams denied,
and voices drowned in blood-stained hope.
Economies built on the backs of the weak,
wealth for the few, while many stayed silent,
coins of gold pooled, but hearts went cold,
hands reached out but never united.
The Last Poets rhymes like Hymns
echoing in alleys,
fingers snap,
feet tap,
words meet the pulse,
the Congo thump lifts hearts,
raw and real,
hip-hop’s roots grow deep—
But what has changed,
in this swirling maze?
Do we still speak the truth,
shout over sirens,
dream beyond the neon flash,
with wide eyes,
still fighting, still asking,
for justice in our sound,
each voice a vote,
every story a song?
Professional editors and writers
sorted through the content.
They found Christmas as
the primary source for
both
thanksgiving and New Years.
they also found
that by allowing the poorest folk
to make money during this time of year
helps generate local economies.
Founded through the changes
and sorted through
the strains.
and the garbage piles up.
Nose-blind by now,
the public doesn’t even
smell the increasing stench.
Inured to the political slush,
minds grind to a halt,
gravitating to one or
another single topic,
ignoring other issues.
Women’s rights, tariffs,
Ukraine, deteriorating
and threatening climate
change, nuclear war,
presidential ability, character,
in one ear and out an eye.
It’s the price of gas, they say,
the cost of groceries,
often controlled by world supply,
and other economies.
Real and threatening issues
bear down on us,
but we blindly accept
the panaceas of
political sound-bites as truth.
Is this really an election,
with a divided populace
so many of whom see nothing,
hear nothing, and know nothing
but the lies they are fed?
Fraught is not dauntless as The Honor is frighting
AS my kids sleep one day they'll wake up
Ziplines tragedies uptown is where the rich sleep
Lucky is being true to your Maker
AS no Master has yet to Master me
I still must be the Master of my emotions
Copslides are like collapsed economies
Every said "no" to an enemy
Centerpiece "Well" it explodes into smithereens
Generous men expose themselves to Danger
While greedy men wish for their deaths
May the Generous Always be blessed and excel at all things
WEAPONS of war will be beaten into plowshares
ECONOMIES will no longer depend on armories
ARMIES will be built for aid and assistance
POWER-HUNGRY leaders will study war no more
OFFENSIVE schemes will no longer be heard or seen
NATIONS will share technology; not hide or steal it.
SECRET plots of mass destruction will no longer exist.
OPPORTUNITIES for united goodwill ventures will increase
FORTUNES will be measured in people, not possessions
WARS will be declared on bigotry, hate, and ignorance
AIRPLANES will deliver greater missions of mercy
RESTORATION, renewal, and respect will be realized
I wonder...
If RightWing Activists
are, thereby,
actively against
Allies of a healthy
cooperative
co-invested
compassionate democracy.
If RightMind disempowered pessimists
lack Win/Win enlightened grace
to feel unconditional warm economies
of politically organic love
in sacred time and space.
If RightHand monotheistic powers
could ever learn
from divine experience
to become more bicamerally
GreenLiberal/RedConservational
co-ecstatic
If Left/Right circling spectral lights
of win/win thriving Egos
worshipping our sacred shared
sexual EcoSystems
become, thereby,
compassionate peace-thriving
intrapersonal repairs
supporting resilient interpersonal partnerships,
resonant teams,
and 7-regeneration sustainable,
multisensory health and safety
communions
unions,
transcendently co-empathic
As when GreenNoise Wonder
grows in nonverbal compassion,
integrity of sacred
Red Holesome
inviting robust Awe.
"We appreciate the popular democratic intention,"
began the Drag Queen Ball proclamation,
'Equity for All'
We would even more appreciate
a more specific lack of pretention:
'Equity for All Victims'
of Straight
White
Patriarchal Privileged
Trauma.
The masculine hotness we admire,
and gladly serve,
is a renewed ecofeminist face
to replace past Patriarchal
Capitalist
unfortunate RightWing embrace.
Ecocide,
like Transgender Matricide,
devolves from Patriarchal-Capitalist
self-fulfilling dark prophecies
win/lose zero-sum survivalist economies
fueled by hellish
anthro-privileged
dis-rapturous
anti-health for all
anti-living Earth becoming All
monotheistically desperate
demonic despair
Of a Straight White FatherGod
incapable of ecocidal repair
while continuing to invest
in punishing deviance
from Straight White Male
cosmic monotheistic glare.
A world in need of spiritual balm
Many have lost the way,
Your faith may give you a lift
When from the truth you start to drift
The prophets have told us of the times to come
Where beastly motives will prevail,
A new world order to mark the times,
And a 3 digit number will rule the day
Economies ruled by a beastly mark
No cash or card needed at the register,
Raise your hand, get it scanned
It's time to check out!
5-22-2023
Decay is a natural process of the universe,
It's, perhaps, a stage of impossibility to nurse.
A seed under the earth can resurrect; not if decayed,
A flower can disperse seeds, till they absolutely fade.
When the functions of traditions and values get weakened,
Unless reformed the degradation gets deadly deepened.
Superstitions and blind faith can make religions decline,
As Jesus said, new wineskins should be filled with new wine.
Will, if less income and more expense, economies thrive?
Could burglars and foolish vendors by the same wagon drive...?
Anything that loses value must be, on time, replaced,
Thoughts, words, and deeds of humanity should be ethics based...!
08 February 2023
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.