Magazine madness of fashion obtuse,
Scantly clad teen’s covert abuse,
Circumvent moral by calling her model,
Grey line law’s favourite excuse.
Tick it and tock it,
And snappily chat,
Or X book of faces,
To summon the rat.
Where all indignation is vehemently expressed, where righteousness of self is digitally pressed, a mirror without flaw from which to throw stones, a facade without face or flesh or bones.
Artificial intelligence,
Artificial incantation,
Artificial infection,
Artificial indignation,
Artificial incandescence,
Artificial imagination,
Artificially incarcerates;
The innocents of nations.
Forgiven by your convenience,
Your need to gadget consume,
So yes their abuse is all your fault;
The fault of all in this room.
Illegal but one click away,
Ai can undress us all,
Immoral but here to play,
Yay for all our lovely tech,
What more can I say…
by David Nickle Read©2026
Australia, you promised plenty
Buildings replacing trees and views
Concrete covers the sacred lands
Developers grab even more
Energy draining quickly
Farmland naked where once bush grew
Green landscape now just scars
Humble pleas go unheard
Justice lost behind closed doors
Lost children in a lost land
Money begets murder done
Nobody left to save this land
Open scars where miners dig
Prosperity flows away
Quietly the land cries
Religion an early cause
Scars everywhere we see scars
Trembling mountains fall in pain
Understand the land that cries
Victims silenced by gun and law
Wisdom from elders taken
Xeric land now appears
Yearnings to change the past
Zephyr sweeps a damaged land.
Life Exploits
What It Can Access
Competitively.
Light Accesses Everything
Unconditionally
Entangled.
That's The Paradox
Of Where We Wants
To Be Where It Is.
Surprise!
Tuh-Duh!
No Wonder.
-Gray Squirrel
04-06-2026
It churns the pit of my stomach
that monsters who used to hide in caves
are now standing on the world stage
as ruling elites
preaching right and wrong to our faces
while they chew on the flesh of our children
and turn them into their playthings
in the darkest hour of hell.
Monsters that used to hide in caves
are the faces of masked morality…
and we’re still pretending not to see.
A baas boy longing for his family uses the Morning Star as a point of reference and a guide for hope.
A Star/Steer poem
The distant star my guiding light shines down
on fields of labor hard and long.
A thousand miles from where my love is sown
I trace its beam and hum a silent song.
It knows the path my weary feet steer back
to the faces I hold so dear.
Does the same star watch over them tonight?
My wife,my children dreaming in the dark.
I pray it keeps them safe till morning light
and leaves upon their hearts a gentle mark.
I promise I'll journey home once more,
Sit with them on our humble floor.
‘Satire is traditionally the weapon of the powerless against the powerful.’ – Molly Ivins
A fly on the wall; a listening bug, if you will, ha!
Over conversational buzz I hover
oh, the grift and greed I discover.
Did you know the common-man-ripoff
is a state sponsored affair? (Gasp!)
Elite pockets; cold in the snow job
if not lined with heat of poor money. If
mouthparts spoke, I’d sip rot to tip truth; a spy
for the small fry, not for rooting media piggies
… for who would suspect a lil ole drone like me?
Exploitation is the dream of the class that governs,
Capitalists are friends of the class that governs.
Every economy desires salvation desperately,
Does all it can to earn profit desperately.
Forces are trained for devils and enemies,
Cursing poor civilians like devils and enemies.
Exploiters call themselves lucky through ways tricky,
The rules are made to keep the system lucky and tricky.
The system of governing is slowly captured by the greedy,
People of the society serve their friends, the greedy.
The blood of innocent creatures satiates the hunger of,
Devils who hide themselves in cloth worn half.
Slogans are made to show the emptiness of mind,
Programs are developed by exploiters of a devilish kind.
The bombs drop less on targets but more on hospitals,
Houses, schools and news talk through stories of hospitals.
A careful constructed system
that’s designed to lead to failure
few escapes, leaving the rest
to be taken advantage of
those who escape
reaches a certain level
then prey on the weak
by selling hopes and dreams,
hope and dreams
that rarely come true.
The game is being sold as
the truth remains concealed
while those continue to profit
off the ignorance and the pain
emotions get exploited,
generating energy curren-cy
that keeps the system employed
as it thrives on the sufferer.
Extortion and manipulation
hijacks the mind, turning
you into willing participants
of your own torment,
creating a tyrannical force
that’s impossible to beat.
Free-will in disguise is a
predetermined force
coering you to endure in
a careful constructed system,
a system that’s designed
to maximize human suffering.
In ivory towers, oblivious reigns,
Blind to the weight of scholarly chains,
Reports unread, insights ignored,
The fruits of labour, rashly scored.
Heads turn away from midnight oil,
Unseeing depths of earnest toil,
Quality dismissed with careless ease,
As if research grew on trees.
Passion exploited, dedication scorned,
Complexity of thought, summarily shorn,
"Just another paper," they decree,
Failing to grasp what they can't see.
Understanding falters at the gate,
Where ignorance sits in high estate,
Dismissing years of careful thought,
As if such work was dearly bought.
In halls of power, a tragic play,
Where value's judged by yesterday,
And those who push the bounds of knowing,
Find recognition never growing.
O, the irony of learned spaces,
Where wisdom often hides its traces,
And those entrusted with the helm,
Fail to fathom their realm.
Democracy ain’t
What we imagine it to
Be. A disaster!
Communism is as
Bad. Exploitation is bad
Everywhere, my friends.
Same strange lies
Our world is in trouble
Cry and pray.
Copyright © December 2023, Hébert Logerie, all rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
The poor become rich, a dream come true,
But as they climb the ladder, they start anew,
Acting just as the rich had done,
Exploiting others, their power now won.
For in this society, there's always a game,
Someone on top, and someone to blame,
The cycle continues, a never-ending tale,
Of the rich getting richer, and the poor always frail.
The story of exploitation,
A tale as old as time,
The poor stay poor, the rich get richer,
A never-ending climb.
Artificial stories and ways,
To indulge the poor and waste their days,
Entertaining distractions to keep them down,
A sad truth, in every town.
The rich make the rules, the poor obey,
No matter what they do, they can't escape the fray,
Trapped in a cycle of poverty and pain,
With no hope of breaking free again.
But one day, the poor may rise,
Their voices heard, their will to survive,
A force to be reckoned with, a power to behold,
No longer will they be bought and sold.
The story may change, the ending yet to be told,
But until then, the poor will always be poor,
And the rich will continue to get richer,
Exploitation, a never-ending lore.
We first met when I was young.
Curious, expectant, open-minded
We explored each other freely,
Communing face to face
Sharing everything
Seeking each other's company, together
Under the open sky.
Middle aged we met again.
Striving, over-reaching, exploitative
We looked to our own advantage.
Stormy clouds gathering
On the horizon,
Presaging dangerous times ahead of us
Under the threat'ning sky.
Now I am older I see her
Dull-eyed, disconsolate, all too aware
Of what we were and have become.
Her cycle confused,
Stripped bare, ripped apart
Craving to be isolate, for solitude
Under the darkened sky.
She will still be there when I go.
Forgotten, unrecognised, unaware
Of what we once had and had lost.
Her nature restored,
Newly clothed, new born
Thriving in her renewed joy in life
Under the spring sun sky.
Printing paper money,
which they so adore.
Point a finger at US,
claim we owe more.
How does that figure?
Who keeps the score?
All legal trickery,
with deceit and war.
Beyond Sensibility,
They have no answer for.
Exploiting, We the People,
Whom they Ignore.
Is there something so unique about us
It must be studied
Rats in a maze
Trapped between testing success and error
Predictable responses to critical impetus
The same trickery carefully edited
For the next information gathering phase
Caught between a fortune and a failure
Rats in a maze
The monkey in a box
Predictable programming for gaining essentials
Problem solutions for subsistence
Collecting data for analysed survey's
Finding ways to unpick the locks
And use this predilection
Towards abusive human exploitation
The rights of rats are insignificant
The plans of tyrants prove their competence
THE EYE WORLD EYE LAW
In yet another human experiment
Insignificance
The monkey in a box
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