Into the jungle the ebony puma leaps with joy
lion and tiger eyes inequitable to this boy
illustrious cobra uncoils from a near caca tree
kangaroo court in session in a high degree
enthusiastic mushrooms open on demand
young ferns close up shop in this verdant land
onward and upward chimp says to her cub
understanding jungle survival is a very small club
Cherub's unfurled fingers faithfully extend to his fallow fringe
hung from a chest made firm by suede, sweat and rain.
Chernobyl blue irises mimic April '86 radiation,
dessimating her Cherokee's sense of societal decency.
Devoted to her capture, suede cape kidnapped,
kept protected.
Kernel lodges promise in her gut, cob of compassion sprouts
from yellow potential.
Shrewd Indian whisks his skin of citrine amber sap seraphim
away, to landscape blameless bare.
Motor mumbles underwater torture breathes through
chrome clothing.
Frothy stew swirling storm of snake flesh snow flakes.
Cherub's education quells emotion, pain never developed.
Teepee tall frame levitates in opaque of inequitable love.
Flimsy slim strands strong in Cherub's raised comprehension.
Fringe flown backwards flattens beneath her face,
bohemian bombastic.
Dislodged sand grains foretell
Grasp nestled naive fledgling
Prospered pillion flame
7th June 2022
Written for Contest:
Like A Child
Sponsor:
Regina McIntosh
Wednesday's the middle of the sandwich
equidistant from weekends -- unhitched
Plenty of room for all those toppings
ketchup, mayo and rain showers -- she's sopping
How unjust, other days' inequitable ways
they'd blanch at my nickname of 'Hump Day'...
Alas, ignominy grinds on; the day's not yet over
~ Tomorrow's Thursday, that four-leaf clover
Less or more?
Perpetual dilemma in life
Lofty rationale
Usual, pithy choices
In the end.
My justification
Of my actions, the best
Others laughed at
As lesser mortals
Children of a lesser god.
My high moral ground
Though staunchly held
Is Inequitable, weak
Shallow, Hollow,
Often Leaves me unhappy.
The lesser God children
Work hard, honestly
Humbly, and fearlessly
Having greater faith
Ready to face any ground reality.
16.4.2020
To exploit our folks in a capitalist machine,
To encourage the rich and the poor.
To make the majority always bow down to the few,
To fight the unwinnable war.
We live in an antagonist inequitable state,
A state that encourages lasting torment.
Where the few at the top expect the rest of the crowd,
To give them their money, like a rent.
Selling trickle down policy, they believe their own lie,
That the wealthy will pay for the broke.
Not realising that’s see through and never has worked,
That their cash isn’t meant for us folk.
If the rich want to stay rich and not have a war,
They’ll need to make healthy, safe and free.
For all of the citizens, in every small and big town,
They’ll need to make a state that’s fed and happy.
If you hedonistically entail to wage a war
If you are possessed by the longing to eradicate
If you fathom the nitty-gritty of the havoc
If you need to endorse your prerogatives in life
Leave free reign to your rational mind
Pull out of this inequitable,rotten,imbecile game
Ditch and this greed for pogrom gloss over
Thwart your apex for evil and hatred tame
Morph into something humane and peace prop up
Vent your indignation on war trivialities
Elect to live off the grid and continue to fly
Then without beating about the bush poverty target
Let wisdom sink into your depraved,wicked soul
Designate your catbird seat among peace devotees.
Dear Steve,
My vigor is exhausted as a revolutionary with a cause
My spirit is trapped in a dwindling dream
By capitalist creams
Enticing my mental stream
A forgotten face am I in the aftermath of a conscious mutiny
My heart is desolate
For the masses are desperate
And the land no longer intimate
A drought has starved my earth coloured cheeks of sorrowing rain
Supremacy is still fair
Our treasures still there
For their own there’s no care
Inequitable acts have been employed to sack our novelty
My centre rings constantly
For trusting comradery
A forced discipline not hearing me
Aubuti Bantu, a eba fela ele mantswe
Ebile nako ya gago e fetile
Khutso
(Thabiso wa ga Nkoana : 2006)
Mary has a little lamb, never would name the ram
Susie sat on a thistle, took off like a missile
Goose Mother Rhymes are a favorite of mine
I making them up all the time
This is great
My oh my
Goose Mother Rhymes
Make the headlines
“It about time”, I’ve always said
U.S. Censorship should be dead
Don’t sit, show some grit, have a fit and then hit the nitwit
Get publishing permit
Let’s agree that: “This land is your land”
“Censorships”, “suppressions” should be banned
Inequitable, unfair, wrongful, and unjust
Therefore getting things set right is a must
These Goose Mother Rhymes are happy in the eyes of most
Censorship, is running on empty; a stop is close
Now the time to publish these Rhymes, they’ll be a hit
The Censor; “He was an egotistical twit”
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