Long Bureaucrats Poems
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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)
This place is tucked out of the way,
across river from the city,
most folks don’t even know it’s here,
and I suppose that’s a pity.
Maybe the truck-stop that it serves
is what drives some people away,
but their hash-browns are masterworks,
so I come here most Saturdays.
Attached nearby is a small lounge
with massage chairs and a big screen,
and nearby showers you pay for,
an odd spot, but they must stay clean.
Nearby is a convenience store,
it’s several times larger than most,
snacks, westerns, and toiletries are
a few of the things that it boasts.
But the diner is why I come,
can’t drive a truck to save my hide,
I find it a relaxing place,
no hint of pretension inside.
A third of the clientele are
just hungry locals like me,
the others are the long-haul guys,
slumping wearily in their seats.
They’re literally the lifeblood
of a nation awash in goods,
yet so many look down on them,
I don’t understand why they would.
The elites who like their gadgets
seem to think them a lower class,
tet were there not men out driving
they’d run out of gadgets real fast.
I even heard a professor
use them as a cautionary tale,
but those guys have traveled further
than any professor who rails.
Once my very own uncle said
that they’re working class, and thus poor,
but some pull down sixty thousand,
my uncle can’t make that, I’m sure.
I was born to that ‘elite’ class,
the son of bureaucrats, lawyers,
raised to believe that a man should
go make a living by his words.
And yet I feel comfortable here,
I guess they’d say I’ve fallen far,
but we could live without lawyers,
without these men here, we would starve.
Some call suck folk ‘deplorables,’
but why is it a hated thing
to do the jobs someone must do
if people are to keep existing?
* * *
Five days later the casket was lowered,
and Rico stood there with his red-haired wife,
she held up his two-year old daughter Jan,
he never felt more grateful for his life.
Things had gone much as Anthony had feared,
bureaucrats wrangling when he’d been seized,
even now they argued about justice,
cartels had lots of sway in that country.
He would have died, that much was obvious,
he had to admit, it filled him with rage,
many times he had been tempted to quit,
none would blame him if his mind had been swayed.
But then he remembered the killer’s words,
about his people, where loyalties lay,
and ironically, that man’s diatribe
was what convinced Rico that he should stay.
When all had been lost, and his life forfeit,
one of his own had come to save his life,
was not Anthony an American?
Had he not died doing what he felt right?
Were not many like him at this service?
Even the woman he held in his arms?
He felt that his people needed protection,
and he had the skills to keep them from harm.
So tomorrow he’d been back on the job,
not for governments or the games they played,
they and the cartels were not his people,
he had chosen the American way.
I see him stumbling around looking for something to hold on to but there was nothing there except the open thin air and a bunch of bureaucrats wearing thin frocks walking around on wet grass with fake greetings and a forced smile that caught us by surprise.
Bob has been in the news and this has left everyone confused he is running for office again, midths the barrage of criticism running down his spine weakening his legs and making him look like the walking dead. At first, he looks like a robot coming out of a hut, and then it appears like a man in despair. There was no one around to cover him except for gravity and his own sanity.
Bob is fun to be around but this time his attitude makes me frown, he does some weird things, like walking with his nose pointed in the air and use his finger to show you the clock.
Sometimes he is agitated and his temper cuts deep causing everyone to proceed with caution while he rolls the dice and shuffles the cards. He is a nice person to be around but the mood swings will drag you down; yesterday I invited him for tea, we had a small talk and it left my aunt weeping in the dark, what is really going on with Bob?
Bob is a very good man but sometimes he looks very sad; he has a very tight schedule and attends more than ten meeting in a given day, heaven knows how he stands up while going through the gate.
He knows his work quite well and he can talk up a storm from hell and still remain true. I watched him come and go and how he presents himself while he rides the big ship, and the ceremony he attended with the mercenaries hiding in the bushes and the guard of honor marching every hour to pay their respect to Bob.
He wasn’t quite in it, he was always looking for something to hold on to but the air propels him along and John, his closest friend, stood next to him and pushes him on.
I could sense a silent annoyance rising up in john’s emotions, as he reached for support while climbing the steps. He attempts to hold john several times from his back but John shrugs and show him the way with a polite gesture.
They and had a cup of tea towards the end, and spend some time feeling out each other. What was said, I really don’t know but the cluster bombs exploded and close that chapter. The tennis match was a blessing in disguise, and it is an indication of how the story will end, I love happy endings.
What if the earth's not flat just a bit bent
Horizons but the hype of those who fled
Twisted by the weight of our cement
The creeping edge of "mindful" government.
Perhaps the bureaucrats should drop their drawers
And turn the ice cap yellow as it thaws
Mock the crumbling of the Arctic shelf
The house and senate playing with themself.
But then again the status quos a lie
for nothing stays the same, not earth, not sky
The giant redwoods fell and slowly died
Long before the crush of human pride.
And we a mutant curse upon the planet
Sit in broken shale we took for granite.
John G. Lawless
2/2/2020d
I reckon you could call me an old curmudgeon but that's alright!
I've been around four score and three and I have earned that right!
There are many things that annoy me but I'll mention just a few.
Hang in there with me as I attempt to get across my point of view!
Barkin' mutts and their inconsiderate masters drive me up the wall!
The droopy-poopy pants kids wear just makes my wrinkled hide crawl!
Cussin' in public by so-called ladies and gentlemen is so uncouth!
It annoys me that high-profile jerks don't set an example for our youth!
It nettles me when someone says they'll do somethin' and then they don't.
I'm annoyed with people who keep me waitin' which is usually their wont!
Careless drivers bug me especially jerks who think it's cute to tailgate,
And telephone solicitors who the serenity of my castle they desecrate!
I'm disturbed about those who flout the Constitution - 'tis an abomination!
It bothers me that we don't ask God's guidance for this troubled nation!
Pompous bureaucrats annoy me no end with their paucity of breedin'!
It rankles me to pay more taxes for which the guv'mint is ever pleadin'!
I ain't got no patience with a screamin' brat or a loud-mouthed dude,
(Nor people who murder the English language as I just did - it's so crude!)
I could ramble on and on ad infinitum about things that annoy me,
But I feel my blood pressure risin' so I had better let the subject be!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
Not for the contest.
...She’d long ago come to realize
that children stood by you for life,
while jobs cut you on barest whims,
she had simply invested right.
What was the use of having choice
if you couldn’t pick your own path?
This couple that they called ‘sexist,’
had built a happiness that lasts.
It was around election time,
and the candidates made their pitch,
in my town a former plumber
had put certain people in fits.
They yelled and screamed at all his stops,
protested him vehemently,
all over the net they decried
that this plumber was a Nazi!
Literally worse than Hitler,
he’d bring us into a dark age!
and anyone who heard him speak
was a bastard promoting hate!
To be honest, their rhetoric
had gotten me somewhat intrigued,
could any person be that bad?
I went to a rally to see.
The man then spent the whole hour
talking of our natural rights,
how men were slaves if they weren’t free,
that we should tolerate no slights.
How if we went soft, one by one,
all would be soon taken away,
that government was built to serve,
and beyond that, it had no say.
He spoke of how true citizens
never gave up their sovereignty,
how power drove even good folks
ever closer to tyranny.
That necessary evil was
still evil, not something to trust,
and how if the leash wasn’t held
then the dog would turn upon us.
Now I recall that the Nazis
subsumed the people to the state,
rhey had no care for rights or truth,
only that you do what they say.
That they’d compel you at gunpoint,
but this man was nothing like that,
instead, he wanted people armed
To keep in line the bureaucrats!
How could they lie so brazenly?
Did they have no honor at all?
This good man that they called ‘Nazi’
will have my vote this coming Fall.
("Bye Bye Safe Journey", 2014, original pen and ink and oil)
The Great Reset
As the modern world hurls towards tomorrow
more and more of us are swept up,
languages, dress, myths and beliefs,
consumed in the cause of hope and change, security and conformity
in short, control.
The two sides of this debate are as they have always been;
life vs. death, freedom vs. slavery, our choice being
as Henry Patrick once so eloquently said,
“Give me liberty or give me death!”
The modern world for once gives us the power to choose,
with the power to enforce,
but it has also shown this power of choice
must be voluntary to stick.
And so armed with an over abundance of data
leaders assault the masses with information
filtered through their biases, prejudices and grant applications
to control the flow through media,
mass, public, private and social,
control the content through
severs and censors, ads and algorithms,
control the outcome
with purse strings and a cancel culture
that stretches from the ivory towers to board rooms
local papers and Thanksgiving dinners.
None of this would be possible without the power of communication
of data, threats, promises and consequences.
Without this world wide web
of modern convenience, homogenization, cooperation
The Great Reset would be nothing but a dream in dictator’s heads
instead it’s a template being offered for us to embrace
by socially conscious bureaucrats
at the cusp of a future devoid of choice.
This is the future we face, at last
voluntarily enslaved to serve the greater good
in the name of death, the fear of it, in obsession with it,
as we cling to our smaller and smaller
piece of the pie.
Somewhere Patrick Henry is turning in his grave
spinning by now, like a top ready to break free
to be made anew, literally born again,
a spirit of freedom that, like love,
never dies.
(12/12/23)
Written November 18, 2013
I'm a postmodernist in an existential environment
Wondering what to do with nothing
What's the meaning of life?
To be swallowed up by entropy
Imploding what it means to be alive
Watch it rain down a marvelous parade
Of lights and sounds of what surrounds
To celebrate a Pound of Pynchon's pithy
Two words one line
No meaning at all
Canvases as bare as the backs of bureaucrats
Filling in the footsteps of giants
Going toe to toe with Pynchon
Feeling fists that Pound
But it's too bad
Got knocked out in the first round
So as gravity pulls me down
And rainbows surround
Take me out by the crying lot
Hang me by the tree that forgives
Along the sidewalk that never ends
The Founders' fear of tyranny
informed their choice of polity.
They chose a form of government,
founded on the people’s power.
They acknowledged the hand of God,
in battles fought and victories won.
And knew the nation’s future state,
depended on His potentate.
Political parties soon evolved,
with platforms bold and grand.
The people hoped that they would be,
the pathway to prosperity.
Progressives felt no need for God
and thought the government was flawed.
So, they installed bureaucracy,
in place of our democracy.
They thought a forceful president,
would help to forge their vision grand.
A society without poverty,
and with complete equality.
The tyranny of bureaucrats
led by the squad of autocrats,
has stoked resentment similar,
to that which sparked our nation’s birth.
When Virtue's ship has long left shore
and integrity valued no more,
then lies parade as gospel truth,
and crooks, ruffled consciences smooth.
The parties are not relevant,
identities are dominant.
Sharp divisions have laid bare,
a nation caught in chaos’ glare.
Our nation flirts with Hitler’s ghost
as we are with one man engrossed,
who promises to right what’s wrong,
and is supported by a vast throng.
The threat to our democracy
comes from the right and from the left.
Beware friends, of cult-like figures,
they'll one day treat you like a pig.