Eureka!
in the hall of evil thoughts
A man stood up and cried
I have the solution
To eradicate Hamas, we
must kill the Palestinian
children, because they are
The Hamas of tomorrow
18 thousand and more
bombed, bullets, hunger
victim of weapons bought
in Europe
Is it such a friendly country
like Norway, exporting arms
to Israel
(KELOGBs)
Stop now, the challenge tag.
Your works are mere living snag
Bearing the giant cover flag.
Tracking down chances' wills
Exporting thy Awesome quills
Into many languages mills...
Someone using your head;
Imagine you lay your bed,
Another sleep tight dead.
In style comfortably-
To dreaming appreciably
Thy weird nights veritably.
As a smart team leader
Engaging virtual fender
Collate all engender.
Truly, it should be fine.
Hearts cheer gladly to assign
Bards' twine for tag's guideline.
Where all are for the same,
No one only dares to aim
Achieves without a team.
May thy labors be vain!
Who toys others' toils for gain.
Subscribing not their pains...
Let their lights become fright!
That with joy, sadness alight
To dwell faulty delight...
Design their vision's grave;
Timing piracy they crave...
Rare languages engrave!
Amen!!!
There was a time we were independent,
exporting energy out to the world.
Natural gas helped make us ascendant,
before the energy plan was unfurled.
Clean coal is indeed oxymoronic,
but our technology, better than most.
Nuclear probably is the world's tonic;
solar won't get you a night on the coast.
Shutting down pipelines, pleading with Saudis,
suspending drilling on government land…
With these pump prices, I'm getting rowdy;
time for the little guy to make a stand.
Putin? Darned tootin', he is an *ss hat,
but when I let loose, well, "Biden did that!"
----------
I'm driving the truck as little as possible these days, but $90 for half a tank of diesel is enough to bring out a bit of a rant...
Law from the Land
We are no where in the history
Merely a part of geography
Floating spots of Arabians sea
Exporting the surplus of our peace
Expecting the survival of our place
Thankful to the kind of main land
Painful to depart from their hand
Now the sun is purple from the east
With a pearcing look reaching top
Fading with a red face of fear
Budding response of different genre
But all defuse in the raising waves
We never invite industrial fumes
We never against to constitutional frames
We will not involve cheering girls
We will not allow chilling glass
Don't intrude into the piece of land
Don't destroy silent peace of land
Roar is on reah from the protecting hands
War is a breach from devastating minds
Nothing will remain,
But realise the value we lost...
First it was the natural diversity
Next it may be the cultural integrity.
C City streets are mild; the wheels necessary
O Overwhelmed by the Virus, Wuhan they say
V Very likely made in a high-tech laboratory
I India was strong-armed into selling its "cure"
D Donald Trump wants India's trial drug
P President Trump made threats against South Asians
E Everyone knows the numbers are huge in India
A Any concern for India's national security interest stemming
C Covid-19 deaths in its homeland, vetoed by Dictator T
E Empires have fallen in war or Roman vice, now by Virus
**NOTE: The drug India makes is CHOLROQUINE and Trump demanded India not stop exporting the unproven drug, while Indians seem to be responding well to it.
Authoritarian DonaldJohn
authoritatively, yet irresponsibly,
declares the U.S. has the worst trade deal
in all of colonizing history.
I suppose
under his free autocratic authority
to re-interpret historic wealth
we were better off
exporting domestic booze and guns
in exchange for domesticated slaves.
Those good old GoldenRulership days
when only white male trader lives
authoritatively mattered.
Reminders
The opposite of historical integrity
is anti-multicultural mendacity
If I were a little bird
I would build my nest
near a king’s window
Then I would open business
trapping secrets of the king
wrapping them in white paper
and exporting to friendly nations
in exchange for dollars
talented and afraid
I float in a blue sky
a single cloud exporting me
to the place of my dreams
the tempest will come later
leaving me without a clue
fumbling in the wind I ride the waves
of homelessness and reach the ground
hurricane passing I take a breath
in the water of my tears
the salt make my eyes to peer at the sky
and I see the cloud of my life passing by
Holodomor Genocide
Native of Ukraine and Soviet Union,
Known once for my independence,
Was pitied tobrutal artificial famine,
Exporting our grain,and leaving us to die,
Declared Kurkul under Stalin's policy,
Shipped to remote uninhabited Siberia,
Left to die of famine,
I was one of the millions,
Once the landlords now riches to rags,
Ghost of hunger that engulfed us all,
Even our innocent kids,
Many nights of darknessand severe ache,
More in heart than in the stomach,
Sun brought no shine,
Zero hope as deathdanced around,
As if wolves driven from the woods,
We ate our own bodies,
Every moment souls died a new death,
Horrible Helplessness, hue and cry around,
Walking amongst corpses,
the good were first to die,
Cannibalism survived,
Could morals stay high ?
Survival a mystic miracle,
Made to deny any famine in public,
Robert conquest termed it 'Harvest of Sorrow'
Decree by Parliament proves it worst of genocide!
Written October 20th, 2014
On Holodomor In Ukraine in 1928
For contest' Genocide' by Cyndi Macmillan
Awarded 1st place
Nose is an Airport,
Importing,
Exporting,
Air!
That kind of kiss and runoff.
Why don’t you concede to the fraud ?
It was a haunted dilemma,
kidnapping of a verdict.
Dinosaurs were wiped out
by a clean sweep of a meteorite
long back, millions of years. Now,
present ones, tiny reptiles
still survivng in water, air and
earth by active faults.
The great Indian Bustard was again
sighted in a poor man’s field.
Are you a moon friendly ?
I am dispossessing all my domestic clouds.
Satish Verma
The friendly skies have become unfriendly
no longer is flying a luxury or heavenly,
taking trips on the iron birds have become a task,
If a traveler makes the wrong move,
he/she may end up wearing a gas mask,
Although some airlines are better than others,
There are those who are unconcionable and
their actions smother, whether one is sick or
laying at death's door, they look the other way
because they are overly consumed with making
more,
Their sense of integrity and trust have been wrapped up
in thinking, such as "Everyone is trying to kill us",
Even those that serve and protect are treated like
nomadic rejects,
The airline without a conscience lacks sensitivity,
All they care about is packing folks like sardines
and exporting them to different countries,
They have left little room for exceptions to the rule,
because if a flier acts up, he/she is subject to a duel.
That kind of kiss and runoff.
Why don’t you concede to the fraud ?
It was a haunted dilemma,
kidnapping of a verdict.
Dinosaurs were wiped out
by a clean sweep of a meteorite
long back, millions of years. Now,
present ones, tiny reptiles
still survivng in water, air and
earth by active faults.
The great Indian Bustard was again
sighted in a poor man’s field.
Are you a moon friendly ?
I am dispossessing all my domestic clouds.
Satish Verma
I sit aside my ruptured moon with fork and spoon in hand.
i sit aside an empty seat giving the waiter my demand.
a hot plate of pancakes with syrup on the side.
a hot plate of loathing depressed from the ones who died.
Caught motionlessly driving; exporting drugs to a friend in need
only to find the drugs were for me to once again feel the air to breath.
gasping searching moaning desperate.
glancing at my stretched out hand.
crawling on the floor stretching my hand out to block the sun.
but the sun is my god; my savior but he blinds me from the truth
these drugs that help me breath tonight are the things holding me tight.
how did she find me
oh how did she find me
i hid so well as it rained.
the angles scream as billy sings for i too put concrete in my veins.
no ones a fan to the truth of a scary sound
depression to aggression slowly turns to a killers rage.
to cut it short i tie this nose in front of millions of people and hang dead on the stage.
I'm living in a wayward town
spawned from the the
Lehigh's past days of
exporting and trading.
A past where railways and
waterways soppourted
a nation.
Now ,a somewhat shallow
river winding past
unused old grey,
weathered, steady canals.
The boats stopped here in
decades gone, to
recieve rest and repairs.
There's not a single
boat shop in this little
town anymore.
The first settlers were a stock
of stat Germans, Swiss , Irish
and Scottish.
Their houses, once
home are now subdivided
apartments.
Soppourting the welfare familes,
the young, the starving artists,
the poor.
Once a walk of carriages,
cottages, hotels, markets
of early American granduer.
Now, a winding ghost town,
a village,
with cracked sidewalks.
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