Long Bribe Poems
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Corruption
I like winter evenings in Portugal
lit wood fire
my wife prepares the evening meal
On my way home one evening
a police officer stopped me
something about my headlight
I thought of offering him a bribe
but had no idea how to go about it
Police officers are not well-paid
and Christmas was coming up
I'm not a regular Don Corleone
The officer looked disappointed
the traffic fine is sent by post
I told my wife about this episode
the hairdresser in the village
had told her the officer shaves
his pubic hairs fortnightly
I don't think this has got anything
to do with the fine
(A holy man speaks in Latin)
Cito est illud tempus quo nemo non potest amplius currere et abscondere
Nullae altae cuniculis aut altis muris te servabunt
Deus enim venit in lucem, quam semel dedit
Nocentius verum pudoris ambulationem cognoscet
Cum concentu detestabili clamores intentionum
Ubi quisque bene servatum nomen suum clamat
Nunc sanguine et dolore ablue
Iustitia et poena soli erunt clamoribus qui implent aerem
Animae vulneratae in ignominiam plangunt
Hoc multoties ante factum est
Et iterum hanc gloriosam ianuam tenebo
Omnes nocentes grave pretium solvet
Iis qui nummum aureum accipiunt in quacunque forma nova
Munus vel quidlibet aliud, quod alios mittunt ad immolandum
Corrupti acolythi aliquid tam vetus
Quod non potest esse nisi unum judicium, quod semper praedictum est
Omnes tristes animae, quae libenter AnitiChristo servire voluerunt
Sub gladio Christi merentur poni
Copyright John Duffy
Translation
That time is soon coming when no one can no longer run and hide
No deep tunnels or high walls will save you
For God is coming for a light he once gave you
The guilty shall know the true walk of shame
With a symphony of hateful cries of intent
Where everyone shouts out their once well-kept name
Now awash with blood and pain
Justice and punishment will be the only screams that fill the air
As their wounded souls lament in shame
This has happened many times before
And once more I'll hold open this glorious door
All the guilty will pay a heavy price
For those who take a golden coin in whatever new form
A bribe or anything else as they send others out to be sacrificed
Corrupted acolytes of something so old
That there can only be one judgement as it's always been foretold
That all those sad souls who willingly chose to serve The AnitiChrist
Deserve to be put under the sharp sword of Christ
Copyright John Duffy
this epistle per mine choice of heir apparent presidential throne
composed from one liberal minded non-conformist rolling stone
prompted awareness that one voice can affect which contestant will win
and occupy the white house after the votes get tallied from political spin
aware thy missive from an anonymous fellow and a self anointed scribe
will be carefully screened no matter opinion already cast with nada bribe
personal opinion of this sole american male of two score and nine years
that barack obama possesses that je ne sais quois diplomatic state craft
despite disparaging broadside starring paris hilton plus britney spears
the land of lincoln candidate exemplifies (to myself) a charismatic charm
in tandem with a relaxed persona and gait akin per a commoner on a farm
that nonchalant easy going affinity speaks nonverbal volumes to this chap
cringes when espying or hearing from opposing challenger whose lips flap
meaning john mccain whose hidden motives and agenda include his trap
to plant seeds of doubt per un-decided electorate causing lead to get a zap
unknown how trials and tribulations rival democratic senator from Illinois
will weather local nor global challenges and said solution he might employ
i opt for said captain to steer ship of state and exclaim to drop anchor ahoy
if via cosmic divine intercession the galloping newcomer in this horse race
ushering biracial as nominal winner televisions would show a beaming face
the political ramifications analogous to betting square outcome on this ace
i gently beg, decry, fulminate counter attack advertisements fast and quick
against those subliminal sly messages that at first blush appear airily slick
and please reach deep in that magic bag resorting to retaliatory artful trick
lest burning from the madding crowd extinguished like jack’s candle wick!
Men of the Flame
Men of the flame,
Basking in the aura of fame
So confident with signs and wonders
Proclaiming to raise the dead and heal the lame.
They cast, bind evil spirits tame
One even said; "God is game"
Is this offerings for God or the priest-
Whose deceit thrives under God's name?
They feed upon the people's emotion;
Men who believed signs and wonders was the only solution.
Shabbily clad in penury's pad
Those offerings dropped; just to seek God's attention.
To them they came like men heavily laden
And to those they came their minds hidden
Winning the poor man's soul to messiah's gate
While theirs was the devil's haven.
Hallelujah! Voices echoed loud
Strange incantations ransack the misty cloud.
Tongues twisting, bodies falling
Only God alone knows what lies beneath their mystery shroud.
Deceit must thrive over religion
Tell the truth; there goes religious rebellion
So, trick will do the trip
An antidote to amuse the desperate congregation.
Prosperity opens the sermon's door;
"...He never created you to be poor"
Cars donated, empty bags with cash impregnated
Still they filled it more and more.
I thought salvation was free
That we need not bribe our way you and me.
"Thou shalt not tell lie;"
But why do these men refuse to call a bee a bee?
The air around us is dosed with sin
Followers in rags, leaders draped in suits covering their skin
In seclusion alcohol and fornication is no longer ungodly
But to us they are forbidden.
We have heard of your festival of fire
And the cars and jets you acquire.
The veil of servitude as blidfolded our thoughts
Hoping for divine favour when we retire.
Men of the flame
The world knows your name
carved in devil's corsive
someday, you shall go back to the fire from whence you came.
The primate, loves to show himself off very much,
brags about his accomplishments as to being the most intelligent living being
on the earth; he is overly proud about himself for his achieved material abundance through inventing Money and development of convenient and comfortable living habitats with it. In so doing, man has become Money’s slave.
Although Money does all kinds of indecent things; mounts high
on this most intelligent but cowardly creature’s back fluttering
a banner of arrogance, Money even lashes the creature;
the creature swallows an insult adding zeroes to the note
each time Money lashes him.
I wonder why the creature submitted to Money, abandoning his pride and dignity. His ancestor hundreds of thousands of ages ago who crossed the water in very remote antiquity, rowing a boat in the heavy mist to arrive here has carried more zeros then the note he held. He keeps adding more to his note accepting lash after lash of humiliation.
Although it’s about time to stop adding zeroes to the note
the creature overly attracted to Money begins to recite a spell
no one would understand, offering a bribe and bowing to an idol
made of gold.
Bribery is an added function of Money and is invisible; no one sees who offers
or who receives it. The certified check: with many more zeros printed on it
than the notes offered to the idol; will be awarded to the spell-chanter’s hand
as a reward for the number of incantations he uttered and bowed to the idol.
The idol: that is able to conceive the meaning of the spell is smiling
because the bribe is a windfall; income to one who sits in the chair
comes with power, and is like a never-drying well in the wilderness.
Above all, it’s sweeter then honey. That’s why the idol eats gluttonously.
A swarm of flies comes and lick the undigested food, mixed with Money and
the many zeroes he vomits.
Richard Prichard
Once was wretched
But now owns a golden land
Where diamonds and pearls rock his feet
Like giant balls of sand
He remembered the time he was poor
And how people treated him so
How he waved to the miller’s daughter
Each day
But she won’t say hello
He remember the time
He had no food to eat
Except a morsel of porridge
That fell to his feet!
From the cook’s table
Each time they meet
To engage Richard to brush his teeth
Richard Prichard
Once was wretched
But now he is a rich man
He remember the things his mother use to say
That you will eat from the toils of your hand
And if it fails
Get an education
And never underestimate
The powers of your mind
As time and chance
Is all it takes for you?
To leave all that behind
Richard Prichard
Once was wretched
Was charged with stealing a pie
And the penalty under the law says that Richard must die
But the maid who made the allegation had told a lie
She couldn’t recognize the thief when he ran by
Richard Prichard was taken to Cornwall
Before the magistrate at Canterbury Street
The magistrate told Richard to stand up
And to be on his feet
He called Richard a thief and wretch in open court
He commanded the jailer to take him back to prison
On the spot
The magistrate took a bribe
And let Anthony go
After he had sold a bag of sand for salt
But pretended he didn’t know
$50,000 he took
Set a guilty man free without looking at his book
Located where the mountains and the sky collide,
The great pagoda floats amid the sea of clouds,
With a luxuriant garden stretching far and wide,
And solemn sculptures monitoring the sacred ground.
Along the thousand steps up to the holy site,
The usual peaceful atmosphere is swept away
By swarms of people coming for the New Year’s rite,
Who slowly trudge ahead in total disarray.
The strident screams and bitter curses fill the air
Instead of hopes and wishes for the coming year,
As the exhausted pilgrims jostle in despair
And rush to fill the gaps as soon as they appear.
The tribute of all kinds is carried up the way,
From lavish feasts to gems and gold in heaped-up piles.
And those who only manage just a humble tray
Are met with mocking glances and disdainful smiles.
The central square lies shrouded in a veil of haze
As people light their incense and the chant begins.
Each man thrusts money into Buddha’s hand then prays
For power, fortune and atonement for their sins.
Observing the surroundings from a stairway yonder,
My heart grows heavy, and my mind begins to ponder:
How far has this corrupt society gone insane
When people bribe the deities for their vulgar gain?
I am so annoyed
Ringtones I cherished once
are now mere headache,
Buzzing at odd hours
advertisements, bank calls,
saving schemes,
As if being paid
to waste precious time
and annoy people ?
Who gives them numbers?
I simply go crazy........
Social media
so much negativity,
Insensible discussions
biased against some,
Religious issues
put to flame, why ?
To promote hatred
and violence, why ?
I just can't stand........
Where are the owners?
The politicians,
The so called learned,
spreading the fire
and flaring up civil war,
Justice denied,
Corruption flourishes,
Govt offices taking bribe,
I am out of my mind.....
Even the top educated
throw waste on roads,
Spitting and smoking
at public places,
Cry our waters
on getting polluted,
Noise irritates
even the sick at hospitals,
The air we breathe
gases beyond permissible,
Eating up greens
In name of development,
I am so annoyed......
Do we leave to our young,
A world of misery?
Selfishness and hatred?
Poor birds and creatures
on verge of extinction?
Nature crying
exploited mother Earth ?
Wake up wake up,
you hearts bleeding white,
those thoughtless minds,
Wake up wake up,
I am so annoyed.........
Sweet ringtone of my phone......
Lovely morning......
Positivity.......
Written August 5th, 2015
For contest "I am so annoyed" by Mary
If you must pray
Pray with your heart
Veil secret say
Words need not start
Each man must stay
On custom tribe
To find the way
Beyond odd bribe
Church or temple
Synagogue space
Please no devil
Embrace true grace
Mosque or wall
Tower of truth
Worship your call
As act funds proof
Work fond ritual
Prayer now works
Joy seeds crystal
As time now jerks
Pray and do more
As your soul knows
From a deep core
A vivid show
Pray as love frees
True peace of mind
To simply be
One as mankind
Be good to all
That journey here
For each man calls
To live fond cheer
Start with your heart
To know your soul
Make love the art
That keeps you whole
Leon Enriquez
23 August 2018
Singapore
The Toonerville Express disturbs a still December morn’,
Like Gabriel himself, but with a whistle, not a horn.
It fades into the distance as my hopes go down the drain.
I’m two miles from the station, but someday I’ll catch that train.
I’ll catch that train and when I do…
She rolls into Jeff. City like a rusty iron gate;
Pulls out for Topeka like a stack of China plates.
From Chula Vista’s sunset to the ragged coast of Maine
These boots have done some walkin’, but someday I’ll catch that train.
I’ll catch that train and when I do…
The engineer’s been playing locomotive on the loose.
Can’t count on the conductor ‘cause he’s drunk in the caboose
And he only punches tickets, never asks you for your name.
Might have to bribe the brakeman, but someday I’ll catch that train.
I’ll catch that train and when I do…
The Toonerville Express disturbs a still December morn’.
That last long lonesome wail was like a baby bein’ born.
I should be sleepin’ in a boxcar ‘steada standin’ in the rain.
I threw a rock and missed it, but someday I’ll catch that train.
I’ll catch that train, and when I do,
Those tracks will guide me right on through.
It just might take a while, it’s true,
But all the same, I’ll catch that train.