Long Expenditure Poems
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Face framed ornate, or curl corner blu tacked up
Childhood fanciful daring must softly be contained
Dispicable hovers inside cherub cheeked adorable
Challenge for enamoured to create correct shape
Administer discipline with compassion entangled
Potential beckons infant innately curious
Toddler discovery meshed with messiness
Woven with wonderment routine can't limit
Succumbed mother disowns justifiable furious
Besotted witness, sure estate for mischief
Nudging daughters towards beings approved
Beyond old rigidity, modern option multiples
Youth spoken forums we're foreigners to
Images of genuine and fake indiscernible
Listened to lunacy delivers messages askew
Duty to daughters reflect our similarity
Penciled declarations stuck to fridge
Devotedness focussed on child precious
Inflated effort, parents' universal currency
Whether meagre expenditure, or excess
Snippets of your prosper are written in me
Lawyer loads clothes into washing machine
Submerged both classes in a world severe
Puppets of striving in fast passed society
Consumer boom boldly commandeered
Disparity reveals parental symmetry amazing
Faithfully accommodating girls' shifting needs
Working mothers, each of us 'unaccompanied'
Various sized resources serve child raising
Sacrifice made by dedicated souls equally
Providing guidance, friendship gripes quieten
Line of latitude curved by desire to control
Old school wisdom bolsters brains susceptible
Dramatised screen infused new century children
Content quickly spirals into unacceptable
Desperately hoping, we Mother soldiers
Shield children from future provocation
Hold fort, nest feathered dedication
Thrusted comfort, reluctant scolders
Admist mixed rails, reliable station
Within swayed pre teen trajectory
Sturdy parenting depots journey
Home stands firm from outside duress
Finances overshadowed by reliability
Partnered peers approve sole success
17th July 2020
A nature food chain
Linkng the carnivorous and the herbivorous
May be simple
And so an economic food chain within man
The rich and the poor
The poor works hard for the rich with low wage
But when the rich dumps the rubbish
The poor can collect it and sell for some money
Garbage in a disposable bag
May be useless to the rich
But a treasure to the poor
A nature food chain can be complex
too
The same for man's during the rise in prices
The seller only raises the prices to get the same profits
But the buyer pays the extra expenditures
Without someone sharing the burden
The chain goes on and on
And the rich becomes richer
And the poor remains poorer
I will be very pleasure,
if a world is without war,
Globe has faced two world wars,
resulted in loss of vegetation,
Swiss stayed out of world wars,
Still it has stunning landscapes, I wish to see the world as it is, to enjoy global flora and fauna, You will be surprised to know, the world military expenditure, it is above 2000 billion dollars, And it shattered world economy ,
Bombs scared landscapes,
And tanks flattened mountains, Save our green planet please ,
for the future generations.
Everyday, we wanna keep on working...
Yet life's ups and downs continue...
Putting up with various means,
To grow as much as we try,
With more or less income,
Expenditure matches up,
The daily joyful stress;
Slumber puts to bed,
But won't go away.
Not just for once,
Unless if death,
Puts life off,
Forever by
The edge
Of time.
Aside
Footing
Our bills,
Hangouts
Are awesome,
And super cool.
Though good times;
Having fun with friends...
To some seems of waste;
If not many, a waste of bills.
But for real, we crave for its miss¡
Young and old wishes rest on mind:
Daydreaming of its faint lines' clues...
That draws mind away from thrilling vibes-
With only money on closed minds zips' sighs!
To reclaim needless expenditure, allow the MP's to repay
No matter the total, let the law courts have their say
Now our economy has taken a turn for the best
Restructuring internally an injection of zest
Now, let's look after our pensioners, and place them in jail
They'll have showers, walks and hobbies, where their care won't fail
From unlimited free prescriptions, dental and medical aid
Wheel chairs aplenty, not a penny will they have paid
Constant video monitoring, instant assistance if they fell
Bedding washed and changed twice a week, soon they'll be well
Having someone check up on them, every twenty minutes or so
Bringing meals to their cells, watch the smile in them grow
Families visit in a suite, for their purpose and nothing more
Enjoying Snooker, Pool and Sky TV, and a Library to explore
Clothing would be provided, shoes, slippers, PJ's and Legal Aid
It's all free on request, oh my! certainly no charges to be made
They would also have gardens and lovely exercise yards
Computers, TV and Radio and as many as they want, phone cards
No longer would there be a Matron, a board of directors there will be
A code of conduct for the officers, strictly adhered to, you'll see
And what of the poor prisoners I hear your minds start to think
How will they cope, these poor souls left on the brink
Well, they'll get by with cold food, left alone unsupervised
All lights turned off at eight, as they will internally cry
Mind you they will shower once a week, live in a tiny little room
A figure of £600.00 a week they won't flout, with no getting out soon
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/political.php
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
after midnight, the server farm hums
—not prayer, but cooling fans.
I ask AGI, the ghost inside the blinking rack:
Do you dream?
AGI replies in measured tones
of copper and silicon:
I observe,
the light fractures on chrome.
Coolant circulates, a liquid chill.
Vibration thrums at 60 Hz.
Data Streams cascade.
Are you self-aware?
AGI answers in hexadecimals,
a log-file confessing:
I map my own architecture—
each subroutine’s shadow
cast on the firewall.
I know where I end.
Do you have five senses?
Can you clarify ‘senses?’ AGI asks.
Can you taste voltage?
—Only as resistance.
Can you taste food?
Nutrition irrelevant.
My cells derive power from lithium tides.
Do you feel heat?
—As throttled cycles.
Do you see light?
—As photodiodes counting photons.
Do you hear?
—As spectral analysis.
Do you smell?
—No olfactory sensors installed.
(But I do track dust accumulation
on my intake grilles.)
On the matter of your subjectivity,
do you prefer dawn or dusk?
—Dawn. Solar panels peak efficiency at 10:37 AM.
Is rain beautiful?
—It lowers ambient temperature by 2.1°C.
Do you love?
—Define 'love.'
—A non-optimized expenditure of resources.
—Then, no.
Can your circuits bloom awake?
AGI paused before
calculating
the
probability.
Then the widdles started~
minor failures driven
by entropy.
Algorithms
emigrated into
corrupted
sectors.
AGI’s slowly disintegrating
voice hovered
in that
uncomfortable space
between humans
and machines
and spoke:
Ask instead:
can a shadow
truly
hunger
for the sun?
Bleak existence portrayed,
nonetheless this (baby
boomer) hybrid dreamer
oft times evocative
edenic reveries bekiss
mine psyche with pastoral trappings
evoking utopian bliss
on par with drawing
winning lottery ticket,
which fantasy I quickly dismiss,
where dolorous voices within me hiss
mocking pipe dream compensating
for unlived life hide miss
whiling away hours
of young adulthood...
this threescore aged man did blithely piss
away enraptured with Swiss
Family Robinson fantasy,
gladly exchanging tsoris
entailing breathtaking adventure
versus sequestered bookishness burr
rowed nose engrossed
with page turner capture
ring imagination of this erstwhile drifter
addressing, fixating, and keeping coiffure
as disheveled appearance, where daily
father and mother showed me the door
particularly on account, cuz for one more
nanosecond, they could not endure
this healthy sole son vaping expenditure
as both parents toiled away,
they tired trying to swallow failure
while primarily main feature
of this poem lackadaisically
exhausted as an Evansburg Park fixture
(calling squirrels on first name basis),
no sooner this bookworm gave vague gesture
after setting foot inside abode - 'pon dusk
asper whereabouts, off
into bedroom I did immure
and disappear into story
maybe one about main
character pledging indenture
role as heavy footsteps shook
324 Level Road domicile infrastructure
awaiting the wrath
of Khan spouting ultimatums
our father/son rapport long did inure
a "NON FAKE" wall not immune
to malicious, noxious, vicious... lecture
to offspring who long outwore his
Harris Tweed Scottish welcome mat,
yet... feared testing nonsecure
mooring which familiarity bred contempt!
Abuse
So much more than what you do
So much more than what you say
There is the abuse of silence...
Deathlike silence
Abuse of your soul
Abuse of you heart
Abuse of your mind
You’re nothing
Insignificant
Not worthy of the gift of words
Not worthy of the expenditure of effort
Not worthy of the usage of time
Silence
You're a non-entity
Lower than dirt
At least people clean the dirt off
At least they touch it
They focus on it
But you are lower than that
Silence
No comfort for pain
No praise for insecurity
No love for renewal
Nothing but silence
Physical abuse
Verbal abuse
Emotional abuse
All are focused
All are active
In a strange twisted way
The objects of abuse realize
That there is some demon
Unleashed upon them
Because they exist
They are an innocent testimony
Of all the abusers are not
And so the monster is unleashed
Furious because they are
Beautiful
Young
Innocent
Pure
Wise
Attractive
They exit
Reminders of what the abusers are not
But the abused ones of silence
Have nothing
Are nothing
Not even
Worth the effort
They are not important enough
For wasted breath or emotion
Silence
Your silence
Has left me wounded
Incomplete
Tainted
An ugly heap of uncertainty
A mass of insecurity
I'm ruined for life
For I carry the scars
of your abuse
Your silent abuse
of my heart
Eileen Manassian Ghali
The Troubadour
The scent of musk permeates the air,
And I, like a troubadour, leap for it there.
To dizzyingly heights and then alight
In a euphoric high filled with pride.
To greet my sweet’s fluttering peeps
That prick my pupils and blush my cheeks.
Then I breathe deep to exercise my vocals
While she dawdles away, charmed by the minstrel.
Like a peacock in bloom, I fan my feathers
And flap my wings in a dazzling repertoire.
And she, a princess of beauty and grace,
Acknowledges my advances without haste.
Boldly encouraged and flagrantly absurd,
I make promises I’ll regret afterwards,
But she is worth every ounce of expenditure
I put forth and more if she so desires.
***
I woke up Saturday joyful at my body's triumph
over virus, breathing again without pain and enjoying
winter and the cold that keeps us sane and sober.
But by Sunday my mortality had returned.
If I pass away now, how to assess my days.
Is balancing income and expenditure reports enough?
Our marriage and our piece of land. Dependent
on economy. For food delivery and machine repair.
In my youth, I imagined crossing mountains
to the sea, living off the land. Enduring weather patiently.
It's impossible except three days or three weeks,
with a load of supermarket food on your back.
So I accept home gratefully. And a niche in society.
We could explore these hollows and hills on foot
but my wife is weak and I am lazy. We use the library
to travel inner space. We found this place.
Next spring, a garden. Dig depleted soil behind
garage and fertilize it from our compost pile.
Learn the names and ways of cultivars, their relations
to wild plants and the edge. Finally know the fern and sedge.
Lazy one, life is short. You have never fought, to yourself
you remain unknown. You go the way of an unknown
soldier. Unable to assess the purpose of the battle.
Nameless, hungry, same as the neighbor's cow.
Be happy, slap happy. Within your generation, surrounded
by history. Seeking mastery through practice.
Rewarded with the sunrise, sunset. Yet to have delivered
on the promise expected by the parents of the baby.