Indignant for Being Indigent and Diligent
Horn Haiku
had been indignant
always being indigent
also diligent
Indignant for Being Indigent and Diligent
Horn Haiku
had been indignant
always being indigent
also diligent
Breaking the surface with someone new
For once, breathing the sweet breeze,
You’re happy.
I have to remind myself that this happened in my absence
To avert myself from pulling you under
Selfishly to comfort my ego and what remains of a shell
Back to the depths where I realize
You were trapped
So break free, albatross
Soar above endless clouds
And when the cumulus turns cumulonimbus
And the lightning strikes you down
Sink - I dare you - and see
I will not be waiting for your crisped feathers.
The Indignant Reverend
By Elton Camp
The reverend Boozer was in a snit
What was it making him have a fit?
Was it gossiping by his flock
That he found a piece of crock?
Perhaps it was the telling of lies
That he so very much did despise?
Was it church members being drunk
That he was calling a lot of bunk?
No, last week the contribution he counted
And found that to a small sum it amounted
That was the only source of his anger
That his paycheck was in much danger
“You’re robbing the Lord,” he did say
But it was himself who desired the pay
So he let them know unmistakably well
By being stingy, they were risking hell
Its 2009 in this modern world
But out there, their is a past
That's never unfurled
Hidden away in forests of green
Indigenous people rarely seen
Content in their continent
For thousands of years
Their neighbours, their only fears
Then along came a rider
From out of the unknown
To settle in their lands
And call their home, home
As borders are crossed
Over aeons of time
What was today
Tomorrow's not fine
Was the cross for the good
For visitor or host
Who prospered
And who lost the most
The America's have taken their toil
Gold prospectors, eroded soil
The Oceanic, New Guinea lands
Oil exploration, next to plan
Africa, the animal world
Diamonds and Ruby's for pretty girls
Asia, the plateau steps
Minerals, take what we can get
Europe, populated first
No indigenous left, no more thirst
We are all indigenous people
From forest to ground
From ape to thee,
That's why we get around
It's taken millennium
For us to be
Do we have to start again
And get back up the tree?
i tried to think it was your fault
for feeling the way you do
i thought you could appreciate
a part of me who isn't you
but you called me weird
and talked from fear
cause of what you thought
everyone else might do
i'm sorry i was born and raised
with a different point of view
and i'm sorry no one will ever like me
the same way they like you
i understand the feelings you have
about the things i do
but the more you hate of me what you lack
the less i appreciate you
well, you're indignant as hell
at his slavish hunger for praise,
demanding and grabbing credit
for deeds that were never his;
at his sense of infallibility,
his utter inability to brook
criticism or own up an error,
concealing his own mistakes;
at his unabashed preference
for yes-men and sycophants
who never give a no or maybe
for an answer to his demands;
but he's the voters' choice,
your raging rants don't sell,
and, yes, his lapdogs rejoice,
and you're indignant as hell.
Indignant am I
My Life on the Line
Through self inflections of my
Dope sick addictions
Raping my soul
Unable to recover
Failure as a mother
Spinning out of control
No place to go
No one to hold
As an abuser
I have no hope for the future
Needing a hand
But I have not a friend
My hateful demise has pushed them aside
Ashamed of my choices
Ridiled with guilt
My children at risk
Hurt and broken
Loving me still
Oh, what I give to be free from of all my ill's
For the Love of God to find his way
Back to this dope sick mother
Desperation of his blessings
To be forgiving
For I am his child, and I need him to come into my life.
For I am not ready to die
Just to recover
Indignant am I,
My Life on the Line.
Through self inflections of my
Dope sick addictions.
Raping my soul.
Unable to recover.
Failure as a mother.
Spinning out of control,
No place to go,
No one to hold.
As an abuser,
I have no hope for the future.
Needing a hand
But I have not a friend.
My hateful demise has pushed them aside.
Ashamed of my choices,
I'm riddled with guilt.
My children at risk,
Hurt and broken,
Loving me still.
Oh, what I'd give to be free from of all my Ill's
For the Love of God to find his way
Back to this dope sick mother
In desperation of his blessings
To be forgiving
For I am his child, and I need him to come into my life.
For I am not ready to die
Just to recover!
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