Long Billions Poems
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Some feelings are beyond explanation
There's billions of people on earth
So why is one soul so attracted to another
Like they feel they're gonna burst
Most have surely known this feeling
At least once during their life
A feeling of an overwhelming attraction
That takes you to the highest heights
For those who haven't experienced it yet
Believe me, it's beyond description
There aren't any words in the english language
To describe it since it's very inception
So instead, let's call this amazing feeling
A four letter word known to all
It's love, pure love, that describes it best
But why say, in love we fall
To me it raises us to the highest heights
Like riding a moonbeam each night
Nothing surpasses this divine sensation
Most delightful of all delights
© Jack Ellison 2014
Cold, warm, horrifying, inviting
Grinding away at the last pink and grey pustules
pooling at the bottom of my
Skull
Gods own light pushes and claws helplessly
against thin nylon
Its primordial importance
Toppled by billions and billions of bright bulbs
Burning and boring into my eyeballs
Spiralling and spiralling down
an everlasting pit of fluctuating fun and fear
And skin and sin and guilt, guided
Down as fast or as slow as
You want, your choice
Quick glimpses of the very bottom shoot sharp
Icicles of despair into my sedentary soul
Thick mist
Clears temporarily from my
Glazed eyes, I push and claw helplessly against images
Of razed villages and burgundy-bloodied bodies,
Kicking and
Screaming against the unfeeling and undulating
Dilated eyes
of fellow billions
I'll share with all of you on this subject all I've got.
You see, I think I'm Schizophrenic but I'm not.
You've heard it said so many times before
that if you think you're crazy rest assured,
you most probably, certainly are not.
Those with such extreme ailments of the mind lack the ability to define what's crazy and
what is not.
So just to be sure I'll say it once more. I'm Schizophrenic. There I said it, so I'm not.
Am I Schizophrenic to see the many things that disturb me
here in what normal people call reality?
The major corporate pharmaceutical companies are a multi billion dollar industry.
They're making billions of dollars off of others much like me
for their investors, stock holders and the CEO's of the companies.
Very little money goes back into legitimate research of the medical community.
Their motives are for profit not to help others like me.
If they cured us all, profits would fall. Next stop bankruptcy.
They keep us believing while they continue their feeding us meds that there's a possible cure
in a pill.
Better yet, a combination of medication would be their more preferable prescription for you
to fill.
Most if not all prescription drugs will pretty much guarantee
annoying side effects be they mild or severely.
There really isn't any need for you to worry though.
They'll prescribe for you anti side effect medication before you go
make your next appointment to come and see them again, so they can prescribe more pills
and draft more bills over and over again.
Do you sometimes fear that there's not a sincere effort coming from them
to find a real cure or true treatment to help you with my friend?
Oh-oh, do you smell a conspiracy
or am I just being paranoid like a schizophrenic ought to be?
It's been a while since I said it. I better give it another shot.
I'm Schizophrenic. There, I said it again, so once again I am not.
Medication for me has never ever done the trick.
It just makes me nauseous, leaving me feeling very sick.
I'm proud to say that I'm currently 100% medication free.
I now deal with my pain naturally.
QUESTIONS OF BALANCE: A JEREMIAD
Why is it at 70 politicians are still underage
To assume political offices
And at 30 youths are overage to begin a professional career?
What divine strength hath a leader at 75
When a mandatory retirement awaits civil servants at 65?
Why should the government empowers the youths with $75 in 2 years
And expects them all to have own businesses
But civil servants who earn over $300 per month in 30 years
Are finding it difficult to own a garden or a store?
How is it our politicians could expend billions
To defect, campaign and give kickbacks
But would wait until the World Bank borrows them some millions
To provide a borewell drinking water?
How can they say the national treasury has collapsed to employment
Yet billions are looted and millions wasted on foreign fantasies?
Why should the achievement of our political endorsement
Be signed to MOUs as though we lack understanding?
Why should our lawmakers make laws that hound the masses
And not against their own chronic excesses and excuses?
Why should the wealthy politician vote a project for the poor
Assigned the execution of the project to himself and loot the funds?
Why do our lawmakers never make laws to free the masses
From poverty and political swindlers?
Why should the agency that fights corruption be corrupt?
Why should gluttons preside over the meager meals of the masses?
Why should the leader not serve today and the servant lead tomorrow?
Why should professional bandits be our bankers?
Why should 5% of public servants consume 60% of the nation’s wealth?
Why should a politician be a party leader, counsellor, chairman, governor, senator… still desperate to lead
And all behind his trails are poverty and anguish?
Why should a politician with obscene wealth hidden somewhere
Tell his people that their poverty and problem is Hausa, Igbo, Christian, Muslim, APC, PDP…?
And why is our nation over-laboured by multiplets of cultural, social
Political, religious questions awaiting caesarean responses?
The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind
The answer is blowing in the wind!
The midday sun scorches her back
Sweat seeps through her feeble body
As her nerves carry messages from her brain
To make her muscles cooperate
So she could stand and move around
Inside her body a helpless guest with very special needs
Hanging head downwards between cliffs of her bone
Shot with delicate spasms
With hair painted upon his skull
The wretched visitor did not come out until it was ready
The stress of delivery became more and more
In only nine months the single fertilized cell
became a fully developed baby.
An amazingly complex organization of some billions of cells
Undeterred, she kept on pushing relentlessly but fatigued
The midwife held some materials attached to a dinner-plate-size device
Shouting: Push! Push! Push!
Swinging hand to and from across the deep hole
Dropping to different directions and starts digging
With urgent jabs the small head penetrates the hard earth.
Could it be a female?
Could it be a male?
As the hole deepens, eyes were strained for a hint
Suddenly, ears quicken as the high-pitched whistle
Descends to a guttural clicking noise—A sure sign
that the visitor has arrived
After the production, how tired she was!
Behold, I shall celebrate this diligent producer
For she has done the toughest job a woman could do
In pain she produced her replica
In joy should she reap the reward
Sweet mother, will I ever forget you?
Murderous Sprees...
sinister Population Control, Sans Cosmic Creator?
Maybe,... I shudder to think
up the sleeve and ornate cufflink
of divine maker, a deliberate pitch
to foist *****sapien on brink
viz self destruction,
asper bedlam upon Earth that doth stink
a hellish conspiracy linkedin with tragedy
namely sinister predestined plan to shrink
terrestrial realm usurped by ink
king a pact of devilish destruction, demolition
denunciation, et cetera doth stoke
unslakable thirst of bloody drink
sucked out the flesh o' every body electric
as zombies and vampires quench
fifty plus shades of deep pink
drain liquid of life courtesy of chosen thugs
incognito golem aliens to kill and sink
civilization, until every person extinct
cold comfort (from this Yankee of mortal fate
lifelong resident of Keystone state),
one day extraterrestrials, (whom might
inhabit planet teeming with billions)
will excavate and then curate
a sorry lot of creatures, where bullets did eliminate
an arrogant, haughty, narcissistic...peoples
(a handful of exceptions to the contrary),
whose various tribes never adapted to integrate
sundry superficial differences among themselves
instead chose to allow, enable and provide
(Putin shill) collusion did willingly corroborate
with dopplegangers i.e. "FAKE" guardians
whose real not so impossible mission
to feign friendship, at heart..a pie rate
but sole outlook to eradicate
coercive, self immersive,
passive, et cetera species
and blithely earn blind trust, unwittingly mutate
into their likeness only to trump
pet gentlemen's agreement brittleness did break
as "FAKE" and devastate
democratic and constitutional compact
(utilizing bribery to swindle elite schools
so crazy rich parents could manipulate
levers of prestigious academia) to satiate
egos bragging about brilliant offspring
only to undermine the complex edifice
spoiling promising futures via golden gate
bridge of studious grads,
who exercised sweat o' their pate.
WISH UPON A STAR
eyes drawn upward —
like a candle on a cake
first birthday or too old
the lottery is billions upon billions
tickets bought
blowing dandelion seeds for surety
tremor of seedlings like flesh
burning your palm
wanting your death
one star stands out amidst the myriads
richer than all kings
waiting for the poor in spirit
to rejoice with open arms
while money strangles the sea
crushed and fluid plastic —
even the wisest heart pinched
the saint patiently waits
for the sweetest answer
placed in folded hands
and worn out knees
a Father smiles and grants
eternity and all the treasury
the inheritance overflows
a luckless star fizzles
the blessed one glows
10/20/2018
Without remorse, he told the tale
Of willful acts of poaching.
And I, his friend, had balled my fist,
Preparing to reproach him.
But he went on to describe the time;
Nine siblings of meager means,
With no father to supply them bread;
The meat had stretched the beans.
A blue-haired girl in studded jeans,
Piercings adorned her face.
I scoffed inside at this punked out girl
Who had set herself so out of place.
And yet her clothes were modest and clean,
And she carried her head aloft.
Her apparel screamed, “PLEASE, NOTICE ME!”.
But her spirit was mild and soft.
We live in a world with billions of souls;
Diverse and dynamic and vast.
We must yet find a way to get along
If a peaceable world is to last.
Yes, in judging the acts of our brothers,
I profess we react too fast.
For each sinner yet has a future . . .
And every saint has a past! *
* Oscar Wilde . . . "Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future."
A hundred jabs demand a hundred more
but still you die and are mocked deplore
Restrictions to control every inch of your life
depression and loneliness from the strife
Faith is shackled churches, temples, mosque closed
worship and prayer marks you as one of those
Forced to mask against your will
masking gives bureaucrats their thrills
All therapeutics forcibly denied
cheap pills that could save lives
Fake news and fake president
propaganda while loss of innocences
Constitution and laws be damned
pandemic rules through the land
If you live control by blue
there is no hope for you
Herd immunity refused and mocked
Big profits for Big Pharma politicians bought
No one blames the CCP
Who brought the world to it's knees
Now Olympics in Beijing
the world crawls before Xi Jinping
Business and schools force to close
as giant corporations had their profits rose
Fear tactics of virus repeated lies
scaring people believing they will all die
Enough.
Globally, People march, People protest
around the world much unrest
Pushing, fighting winning their lives back
People peacefully on the attack
Liberty will replace mandates
The world will control it's fate
Overthrowing the old with the brave new
A swelling of billions had enough of you
Freedom beckons and the evil will fall
and while we're at it finish the Wall
Peace, Faith , Freedom, Again and forever.
Amen (Let it be)
Seems so surreal...billions of beings
held in place by invisible forces
atop a giant spinning orb
dependent on the charity of
mother bird's star warmth.
It's a golden time for Earth and mankind
conceiving and evolving, creating
mastering fantastic things.
Flying machines and curing diseases.
Searching for the key to the speed of light.
Unwinding the helix-dreaming in spacetime.
Ego, as an algae bloom, enters the gilded room.
Disturbing the divine and pure nature of things.
Warring and serial raping...rinse and repeat.
Mankind so volatile, so violent, so unkind.
Careening toward another mass extinction.
The beginning and ending deeply set in scripture.
Trimmed and encrypted, whittled down to imperfection.
With an ungodly amount of editing in between.
No wonder mankind seems detached and indifferent.
Mother bird star warmth will remain.
Long after the golden tide of mankind subsides.
She'll pulse her warmth to the next icy orb...
Hopeful that grace will finally overcome ego.