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Long Extermination Poems | Poetry

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Long poem by Gerald Dillenbeck | Details

The 0Cay Exterminator

I suppose there are no new problems in the world to be exterminated,
well, I mean, of course there are as many new problems
as there are creatures having a new day today,
but I mean I suppose there are no absolutely unprecedented types of power-struggles about comparative freedoms to and from
with short and/or long-term health and love's security implications,
just as there is no such thing as time flowing backward
except in our surprisingly 4D-equivalent visual imaginations.

What might it be like to be able to reverse time in our
hearing imaginations?
so we could hear a song sung backward in our head,
a life lived backward from full Yang voiced maturity
back to Yang/Yin embryonic soup,
surfing in soft warm dualdark composting diastatic murmurs,
like the Earth turning back into a newer
speed-of-enlightenment BlackHole Sun,
evolution as revolution to our 4D listening minds.

Imagine today as the conclusion of your Creation Story,
and play yourself backward to our mutually-held DNA/RNA
health-commons solidarity,
political-economic loves lives
ecological (0)-sum embryonic beginning.

Exterminators of life's great and smaller problems
must first
and more importantly,
become regenerators of solutions,
for if there are no new categories of Creation Story problems,
then there are no new categorical resolutions of chronic,
and more climatic,
issues and transitions and economic transactions and political relationships,
and personal loves and active distrusts,
health yin-streams
implied within pathological screaming contests,
yang-supremacist nightmares.

ReGenerators of Solutions
look for least effort compost piles of ideas, nutritional possibilities
repurposed from our still-evolving history of multicultural enculturation,
removing from the ground of trustful-truthful becoming
all  monopolistic exterminating and terrorizing fantasy solutions;
problems perpetually unresolved with Others spelled IntendedLosers 
in abject repressive compliance.

Such extermination through terror fantasies
for powering over life's little and great transitions
rather like swatting a fly
with a grenade,
a too-Yang dominant over-reactive response
which does indeed exterminate the fly-power problem for now,
by causing several newer and more costly challenges
for yet another day,
unless of course we manage to exterminate ourselves as well.
Then we merely pass along our carnage to our children.

Older chronically re-evolving, co-arising problems,
political and economic and ecological,
might healthier resolve with greater cooperative resonance,
with more investment in co-empathic trust
in mutually subsidiary and grateful deep listening
mindful of health/pathology problems nesting within their appositional solutions
inviting to raise grace
rather than more canes,
further pathological exterminations,
denials,
executions of mutual-immunity monochromatic intent,
with visions of socio-political grandeur
through naked robes of clown's multiculturing visionplays 
with Ego's
and Ethno's 
and Anthro's Idolatry,
Self
and Other
as Earth's Maniacally Fertile EgoWorshipers.

Supremacy of Anthro-ReGeneracy our internal monopolistic Selves,
as if that could co-arise RightBrain happiness,
rather than further LeftBrain suffering,
cognitive dissonance 
stressfully blocking terror and extermination fantasies,
pinging fears and spontaneously combusting angers,
passive mistrusts 
and more actively steamy distrusts, 
rupturing black pearls of ballistic hatred.

Old enslaving problems
within renewed
regenerative Left/Right cooperative economic resolutions
point toward Beloved Internal Communication
and External Community.

Cay,
making hay while sun shines just right
and rain falls just so
on the meadows of our co-empathic trust, 
transgenderationally-applied Golden Rules 
growing transpeciated-remembering evolving minds
with nutrition v pathology-empathic bodies,
fully co-conscious bilaterally-truthing-testing eco-healthlives,
rather than staying stuck within further dissonantly noisy and stinky decay,
devolution,
disincarnation,
disinclination to wake up and show up.

OCay,
so that's an hour I'll never get back again,
irredeemably invested in old problems
in new cooperative-regenerative wineskins.

OCay,
are you going to just keep repeating this same program
through your entire day?
Is that your plan for exterminating yet another day,
another life,
another planet?

No,
Cay is about investing in yet another healthier love-resolving day,
another polypathic resonant trust for radically extended family life,
another healthier Earth.

OCay?

Less paranoia, 
and terrible-terrific-terrifying-terror, 
monoculturally-motivated ego-extermination fantasies;
more actively, and inclusive of oneself, pro-cay.

OCay?

If you feel like we are falling apart
more than we might ever conceivably come together,
then it seems healthiest to hope
that breaking up our current monocultural fossils
is our way through great, and smaller, transitional regenerations
of reincayness.




Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2016


Long poem by Gerald Dillenbeck | Details

Snail Trails and Rat Tails

My transportive 
awesome Muse
speaks of a hiking trail
for an aging snail.

My communicative
wondrous music
is dancing choreography
for an ageless bee
coming.


I ask if I might speak
with the Editor in Chief
of my town's daily GoodNews Bulletin...

No.
I do not have an appointment...

Yes.
It is regarding GoodNews
for his local variety show
he hopes to continue WinWin Gaming
hereabout
and OtherWise.
Golden Rules
and governing Ratios of trust
over active distrust,
investing in PositivEnergy
over
Negative BadNews...

Once inside this CEO's office,
I thank him for his patriarchal time
and then spin a matriarchal web
yarn.

I ask him if he is interested
in partnering with our EcoSchool Academy
to harvest youth-led Green investigative
journal telling stories
about public health v RedHot pathology.

He asks me,
Why and how do you see
Public, or even Private, Health
sufficiently and necessarily Green?
It seems to me,
he circuitously continues,
our circulatory nutrition systems
are red going in
and mysteriously blue respiration
breathing bilaterally out
Left and Right synergetic
Elder Right with Younger Left dynamic
old spiritual and new natural EarthTribes
of RNA then DNA extended family enscriptions
for Earth CoRevolutionary Survivors
rock rolling
MotherEarth Matriarchal SpaceTime,
4D RealTime
WinWin GoodNews Bulletins.

This sounds EgoSelf-serving,
now that I rewind and wind and wind,
and perhaps too eco-centrically webbed
for LeftBrain dominants
to fractally follow 
patriarchally along,
but that might explain
the Editor in Chief's
GoodNews circulatory problems,
pathological trends
too Red for resilient Right with Left Wings,
and actively cooperating feet.

Predictably,
Chief Editor
asks about who is paying for all this
and how will these stories
grow ad revenue.

So I use an example
of a real world,
not fake news,
journalistic activism scenario--
a Thought Experiment
for cooperative dialectal two.

Students, in secure pairs,
could survey Cliff St. neighbors
to find out how many renters
and homeowners
have had rodent issues this winter.

Why is that a reasonable question to ask?

My oldest son lives there
with hungry river rats
eating his refrigerator
and his stove
wiring.

He has noticed
extermination winter service trucks
and growing trends
frequently about accumulating private health investment,
and steel over concrete
double-barriers non-absorbing,
more appropriate to resist
our four-legged too friendly pests.

I see Public Health
but I still don't see Green Activism.

The rats
and their terrorized roommates
probably see this as a Green cooperative ownership concern,
health-supporters avoiding way too much BadNews bloodshed issues,
competing and losing investments and assets,
nests and tails and pet paws
with their side-by-side neighbors,
hoping to spend less of little competitively-gained green goodnews
they have left for food,
now rodent-devoured,
and new wind-poured refrigerators
and new solar-fueled stoves
autonomously,
because of an unspoken
and, to date,
not noticed Public Pathology expense
of anti-cooperatively owned
WinWin Green
seen as too Red RightWing economic
and political
LeftBrain dominant
WinLose issues.

Which sells BedNews and GoodNews papers
and larger circulations
increase values for local ad co-investors,
Especially from exterminator for-profits
and neighborhood revitalization non-profits,
and public and private health services.

And possibly Green STEM EcoSchools
and PositivEnergy Cooperative Corporations
and CoHousing Developers,
and Rodent Rights Advocates,
and Tenant Organizers,
and Attorneys
and Domestic Cleaning Services
and appliance recyclers
and Environmental Protection Agencies...

You had me with BadNews exterminators.
So what's in this for you?

My oldest son and I
co-own his home.
While he has no frig
or stove
he comes to my place to eat and eat.

That young man
and his girl
can EAT!

And, I'm paying for half
of our exterminator contract
with my Social Security income.
Why do you ask?

Because if you have no skin in this WinWin Game,
then I don't know if I can trust
your lack of ego-investment.

For me,
to be a Green 2020 Health Revolutionary
is awesomely resonant wealth
of Earth's Bilateral Resilience,
sung through my-our DNA's past co-investments
regenerating Earth's EcoSchool History.


My reincarnating
awesome DNA-RNA Muse
unfolds hiking snails
merging ancient four-seasoned trails.

My inside music
wondrous bilateral communication
dances bee language
of ageless choreography
becoming co-operators.

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2018


Long poem by Timothy Hicks | Details

The Truth is Still the Truth

I'm searching far and wide for the facts, getting my hands dirty in the process
When we conquer nations, I say bloodshed and they say progress
I have no desire to be burned at the stake
Simply practicing freedom of speech for Pete's sake
I know it's gonna hurt like none else when I reveal these secrets
But in this case ignorance ain't bliss, so I'm keeping true with no regrets
I've learned way too much and dug too deep to pretend I didn't see what I saw
I get disgusted when they tell me to keep quiet
cause I might just break some obscure law
They call me disrespectful and unpatriotic when I display any kind of negativity
But aren't they equally so when they throw me in a cell when I simply don't agree?
Cause at the end of the day, when all is said and done, the truth is still the truth
And I know when I say that I run the risk of hanging from a noose
But if you don't speak up, for fear of ridicule, either way you're gonna lose
It doesn't really matter if I offend the way you think
All I wanna do is offer you my hand, I don't want you to sink
in the sea of lies, those people behind the scenes are so proud of
The time for silence is finally over, the world has had quite enough
We aren't sheep in line waiting for the slaughter
We are brothers, sisters, sons and daughters!
And don't get me wrong I support the troops, just not the war
Does anyone honestly know what we're fighting for?
Stop hacking at the branches of evil, and grab at the roots
When the truth lies ahead, it's worth getting mud on your boots
I wanna let you know that your heart might shatter when I say this
I know you might be calling me crazy or disturbed, but I accept that risk
I'd like to honor the victims of 9/11 - but the investigation was a sick joke
If you're eating while reading this, for the love of God, don't choke
I need you to spread the word and really ask the hard questions
Any race and any nation is capable of performing crimes too foul to mention
Even our own (though reputedly god-blessed) is no exception
The building fell six seconds flat, from an illogical jet fuel blast
The fact it wasn't hot enough for fuel to explode, no one bothered to explain that
The kamikaze Arabs that flew the plane, a few are still alive, living in their home country
Just give 'em a ring and and say how's it going, oh and by the way,
"How did you defy your own mortality?"
Did you know a cool 60 mil was spent on digging into Clinton's love life?
Yet only a fraction of that was spent trying to figure out
who ordered the extermination of over a thousand lives...
Seems to me some poor sap is getting paid big bucks to drink the Kool Aid
Seems to me someone's laughing their head off while the rest of are getting played
Don't take my word it, I'm just one person after all, start your own research
All I'm asking is for you to think for yourself, and don't get too cozy on your perch
Pay close attention when they advance two steps only to jump back one
And when you notice you gotta catch them in the act, not after its already done
This isn't political opinion; the loss of human life is just something I don't condone
Life is just way too precious to be debating the humaneness of drones
Yeah, I support our brave troops, so for once do what's right and send 'em back home!



NOTE: I didn't write this for creative purposes, for this is no laughing matter, but a serious issue. What happened on the day of 9/11 was one of the most appalling crimes in recent history - please, don't listen to the basic news stations and take it for absolute truth. There are over a hundred contradictions in the "official story" they give out. What I mentioned in this rap is just bread crumbs compared to the whole story. The majority of people won't even consider the slightest possibility that 9/11 was an inside job (even when countless facts and holes in their story, lead one to believe that's exactly what it was). It is an absolute disgrace to the victims of 9/11, to leave the investigation in such obscurity and unanswered questions. This is not politics here... these are human beings we are talking about. I beg of you to not just take my word for it, but start your own research. There are several very thorough documentaries on the subject, that were put together by small groups of people eager to find the truth. Loose Change is a good one.

Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2013

Long poem by Gerald Dillenbeck | Details

Were You There

Were you there
when we nailed health culture
to the cross?

Weren't you there?
I thought we were all there!
Wasn't that our Big Bang of an Idea?

Let's just forgive each other for all that angry history
of hurt and loss and painful suffering,
torture and lapses into extermination of subpopulations
based on quite a list of characteristics,
gender and sexuality, age, religion,
occupation, attire, 
placement of domicile within v without walls
of acquisitive EgoAnthro-possession,
and on and on....
Then too we have all that slavery,
adding commodification to the domestication
of our value for healthy human mindbodies.

So, yes, the nail of Angry Cultural Climate
pierces Left's deductive memory screaming past
irrationally unacceptable tolerance
of collective cognitive-affective dissonance
when we are invited into Easter's new-life resonance
of regenerative health trends.

But, I also thought we were all there 
in our more global RNA-centered Right Yin MindBody,
terrified of AnthroEgo's biosystemic culture
of climatic transitions toward timeless demise.
How could YHWH continue to be Father
to Son's Becoming
and yet let His beloved EgoSon die?

Did we misunderstand something about our shared
"child of YHWH" status?
Might we be our Father's first RNA Creation Story,
told and retold through bicameral beating
and breathing
and noticing dipolarity of Time's Him/Her Self-regeneratively
healthy evoluting climate?

I thought our primal crucifixion story
was our co-redeeming health and safety self-perpetuation narrative
of love as synergetic therapy
for angry history
and fear of future shortage of YHWH-Time CoPresent;
you know, the hellfire and brimey damnation scenarios
all the way through
"I never have enough quality time for myself" plot-lines,
long-reiterated issues
and dismay and decay
and all negatively correlated
with healthy, regenerate YHWH-flow
of Time's co-arising Positive trends
(notnot negative, and binomial/bilateral, equivalent),
eating and sleeping, 
communing in generous nutritional climates.

So, how do we get to this true Easter cultural climate
without first getting ourselves down
off that Left-brain over-dominant cross?

I suppose this  is where the Right-brain comes in,
concave and dipolar-temporal recessive tomb,
embracing Ego-purgation.
But, you know, I find it a whole lot easier
to trust it feels and is much safer,
perhaps even a bit relaxing and contenting,
to purge my lungs
when I know we have plenty of fresh nutrition,
healthy cultural climate
to breathe right back in again.

Left-Right bicameral ecoconscious Evolutionaries,
Permaculturist Bodhisattva Warriors,
EcoTherapists and Occupiers,
Medicine Care Optimizers and 7-Generation Sustainers,
PolyPathic Mystics of Revolutioning Peace,
New ZeroInterest Investors
and Lifestyle Mentors and Teachers,
Cooperative Networkers and Game Designers,
it's PostMillennial Time
to design an Easter
cooperative economics
with polycultural politics
actively co-networking Communion!

We keep telling ourselves
this same creation Easter story
every year.
You can't spring Easter season
of new cooperative healthy growth outcomes
without first investing
decompositional temporal-dialectic analysis time
in tomb of winter.
And, you can't dwell within this purgative-embryonic tomb
as womb,
without first letting yourself fall down from all those angry crosses
and using them to devise
primal permacultural mapping strategies
for next year's WinWin health and equity outcomes
this climatic summer of Time's DiPolar Diastasis.


Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Leanne Lovejoy-Burton | Details

The Dilettante Diaries: Avian Notes on the Sensate Slip Stream : The Silent War in 3 Acts: Pt2


“I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End.”



The Dilettante Diaries: Avian Notes on the Sensate Slip Stream : The Silent War in 3 Acts

(Part 2)

What beats in their hearts, 
what have they seen?
Avians murmurating stories 
on the Sensate Slip Stream
Invisible golden chords?
Pulled this way and then that
Strung on silk 
or barbed-wire
Pearls in a Harbour
Hawaii 41 then f*** off 45
Silent Hiroshima 
forgotten 
broken church spires
Hokulani Oahu 
Hawaiian Hibiscus Leis
floating on clear untouched
crystal ocean 
Geisha Quiet Divas
Stoic Men in Top Hats
black cherry blossom
burnt bitter sweet
lackadaisical treats for 
the calculus Monster’s
hibernating heart beat
haiku written
simple dulcet lines spun
on cotton candy clouds
blown like bubbles
from the soap pipes
of winsome War Hawks
whore-kissed by 
platitudinous
big guns blowing 
putrid seeds over
their wondering winds
deadly opium 
smoked in war-room
no thought on the run 
stand behind blinds
while moving plastic models
pretending nothing is better
than playing with 
their big fat water-guns
smoking peace pipes 
for synchronicity 
of minds, they become
lost in the glory
the winning, the fun 
cash burning petrol 
territorial takes lives
Headlines in The Times?

Avian flies high 
spirals pirouetting 
blood pumping
pulls in memories
in another dimension
6000 reduced to 41
Dresden ‘33 - ‘45
Trains, gas, stacked as rats
stacked as 1

What Avian blood has seen
and transcribed through
the memories of birds
and the stories they fly
gas sucked through a pipe
showering over innocent 
bald heads, naked as babies 
the children with mothers and fathers
and innocent minds
lampshades of skin 
fat into soap 
nightmare is this scene
gas worse than a rope

“A world forgotten by now…”,
the Past cries,
“Never again to be seen!”
Borders are crossed
different colour 
their skin
Big Blue Swallowing Vacuum
Burnt Sky
Put up a wall in between

The Past was just a bad dream
Roll Action Film 
cut to new Scene

Magnetic hearts
Memories should never die


(Lovejoy-Burton/September 2018)





1. Mass Animal Deaths 2018 and previous
http://www.end-times-prophecy.org/animal-deaths-birds-fish-end-times.html

2. A book to read.
https://www.biblestudytools.com/revelation/

3. Pearl Harbour
http://www.pacificatrocities.org/blog/the-attack-on-pearl-harbor?gclid=EAIaIQobChMI78zi85-93QIVh3ZgCh2sCgCbEAAYAiAAEgLHlvD_BwE

4. Hiroshima/Nagasaki
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Atomic_bombings_of_Hiroshima_and_Nagasaki

5. Enola Gay
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Enola_Gay

6. Little Boy
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Little_Boy

7. Fat Man
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fat_Man

8.
Extermination of Dresden Jews
https://en.stsg.de/cms/names-jewish-victims-dresden-1933-1945

9. Bombing of Dresden
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bombing_of_Dresden_in_World_War_II

10. Witnesses to Jewish Holocaust at time of German Surrender
https://www.holocaust-trc.org/the-holocaust-education-program-resource-guide/oh-no-it-cant-be/

11.
Tara Busch - Tag
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xegfQqzAWDc

Laurie Anderson - The Beginning of Memory
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eoVs24aw9yg

Mac Miller - Avian
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mFWf4Tb5m6Y

Copyright © Leanne Lovejoy-Burton | Year Posted 2018

Long poem by Kai Michael Neumann | Details

Made in Neonazia

Made in Neonazia

Life wrote you and I this poem on a sunny day of watching
penguin’s colonies bathing on the beaches near Cape Town 
A splendid display of harmony of sun ocean and tourist attraction
warm sand under my soles and my soul undisturbed

Wandering on and carefree I strolled into a nearby museum 
of play things for children and adults dreaming of memories written 
rewritten of dinky cars and corgi toys die cast and a whole circus
of fantasy clowns puppets dolls card games marbles and jo-jos
with only the little tin soldiers grenadiers and dragoons distracting my peace 

Miniature train sets featured tracks and trails stations
signals and sign posts they shunted transformed performed 
what is like a game and some trivial pursuit for innocent minds

From the collection of reminiscence in thoughts and my past
my gaze falls in horror on an adjacent replica of the Reichstag
Berlin and history enshrined in a vitrine illuminated by darkness
Precise it stands with Swastikas suspended from marble of doom
a scaled down model of the dimensions of barbarous evil 

Brown shirts and black shirts march in the foreground
Hitler Youths parade with blue icy eyes and Nazi arm bands salute
in front of the columns of megalomaniac sculpture propelling
death blood murder concentration camps genocide extermination 

SA and SS guards and warriors raise arms roar their ‘Heil Hitlers’ in shocking display 
their screams in slaughtering voices hail to the leader the fatherland
the depravation the darkest side of ultimate inhumanity the blasts from the past
I can hear the echoes reverberating the supporting masses of perpetrators 
of by-standers denying their part in the killing the shouts of the victims

The Reichstag stares straight into my disbelief and my vision is clouded
with dry tears of disgust and mute numbness of anger of speechlessness 
What strikes me so hard is that this display of horror does not call for
recollection of history to learn from the past but is fascist glorification for
so called collectors thriving on hidden desires sadist reprehensible denial

The image of the Reichstag is so enormous so blindingly obvious and
trains in Auschwitz were bigger than the diminutive models on display here
Cattle carts were filled to the brim with branded outcasts delivered into oblivion
The journey ended with gassing from the shower heads to save bullets and
masses of ashes smouldered in crematoria and continues to recall the collective 
guilt of my nation of Goethe and Schiller Rilke Klimt Nietzsche and Goebbels

In the museum there are no yellow stars of David on striped ragged skeletons 
no miniature heaps of starved bodies no reproduction of human remains just Nazi regalia and a collector’s item which has been manufactured can be bought on mad markets can be revered by Fascists and Nazis of any shape form size and ignorant stupidity and exudes the vile stench of Bergen-Belsen and Stutthof all over the globe

Frozen in time and in shame I wonder what the future holds and whether there are little snow globes with miniature Treblinka and Majdanek replicas sold and hidden away for 
perverse and collective pursuit of insanity


Copyright © Kai Michael Neumann | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Mark Martin | Details

The lonely angler

He was there in the beginning
and through the eternal ending.

He'd scattered his seed 'cross numerous worlds.
They flourished.
They perished.
Flora, fauna, innumerable forms,
aeons of evolutionary warfare.
Extermination of the unfit
without the mercy of design.
Quadrillions of cadavers
paving a road to ecological Eden,
but ending in extinction.
Not one Gaian pretender made it. Not one.
He'd watched them all.

Sometimes sentience emerged,
a pestilence of society, technology and civilisation;
a pandemic of philosophies and politics;
a cholera of culture and creeds.

He'd walked among the souls,
one of the invisible,
the dispossessed, the unwashed,
the untouchable, the damned.
He never told them who he was.
They would never have believed him.

Wars to shame evolution's tooth and claw,
punctuating the stagnation of peace.
Millions of messiahs,
plethora of prophets,
successive suffering saviours.
Legions of artificial gods,
invented,
combined,
renamed,
cast down,
reborn,
denounced,
forgotten.
Tedious debates and disagreements over the nature of nature.
Did intelligence begat intelligence? 
Or did intelligence emerge from dust and water? 
Was there an all powerful deity?
Or did the clockwork of mathematics rule them? 
Was free will an illusion?
Or could they choose evil over good? 
If only they knew, they might laugh at their own folly.
Or at least don a wry smile.

But that was long ago...

... he looked skyward from an impossible place at the impossible infinity of the cold black sky. Void once more, void forever. He laid down his fishing rod and stretched, barely rocking the impossible boat...
He'd seen continents on mantle seas hurtling across countless worlds, crashing waves of mountain ranges ebbing back to plains.
... floating on a fishless lake, in a treeless mountain valley, under a cloudless sky...
He'd seen the planets born from dust, held close and safe by their mother star, bathing them with light and life. Then her betrayal taking her offspring back to her womb, as she bloats into old age.
... on a world sustained by fading memories, a faint facsimile of forgotten realms, secure from the cosmic cataclysm...
He'd seen the galaxies fly apart, pinwheeling across the cosmos, ever faster, ever distant, ever lonelier island universes. Star lights popping or fading, returning to the dark.
... where he could finally rest. No wind to disturb his thoughts, no heat nor cold to try his nerves, no life to stain his soul...
He'd seen totality ripped apart, the very last particle dissolving into dilute energy. Then nothing.
... time lagged, then eased, then stalled to sleepy irrelevance as cosmic clocks ceased to count. He drifted towards eternity and contemplated...
Maybe he'd daydream a new universe. Written 26th April 2017 Entry to "yggdrasil me" contest

Copyright © Mark Martin | Year Posted 2017

Long poem by James Williamson | Details

Tears of my brain

This is the ending New beginning its over children daddy did it, It is finished so 
father into thy hands I commit my spirit I feel it its coming closer the sun is just 
growing colder, my soul lord is yours for the taking cause hatred is all over, from 
public school corners to the media that reports us and show us as being nothing 
more than just an enormous, pain in the side of the world, and make sluts out of 
baby girls, and make butts out of baby boys, who grow up around this noise, and 
knowing nothing in school, but how to act like a fool, and it’s cool till you grow up 
knowing nothing to do and they wonder why we crazy when the hatred you gave 
babies, ends up catching you at last and biting you in the ..., it hurts don't it homie 
when you really stop to think that you spilled so much human blood with what you 
did with a little ink ova da kitchen sink runnin water tryin to swallow that pill cause 
genocidal is he who sits on top of da hill now tell me whats wrong with this picture 
listenin to other Mr.’s use words to go against us and talk about all our sistas, and 
call dem out of their name the b's the h's and a's and they act like its ok for men to 
come up and say things like it's not a problem when fathers don't know their 
daughters, and they get all hot and bothered, Sorry nobody taught 'em, and they 
say that its common sense well how common is common sense when my mother 
had to struggle hustle and use it all just to pay the rent, now if it takes a village to 
raise a child and a father to raise a man then yall clear up somethin for me help me 
to understand what you call someone like me here walkin around when my momma 
had to raise me cause daddy wasn't around or nowhere to be found in a lot of 
cases many people facin the same situation on a daily bases, and basically it boils 
down to a lack of consideration and aggravation caused by the men of this nation 
and as far as it comes to facin with diversification the laws of education may not 
allow for segregation but the bases is buried deep within the bile’s of legislation of 
the emancipation and extermination of our whole negro nation, what I'm sayin is 
what they really showin the youth with the rims and the caddies is that this is our 
compensation for you not havin a daddy we ain't worried about you gettin it 
because of the facts see you'll be dead long n your grave before you can feel out 
the tax sheet, we ain't meant to survive we're meant to be blamed we the scape 
goats of our nation tears of my brain

Copyright © James Williamson | Year Posted 2011

Long poem by Earl Schumacker | Details

Dangling Lovers

           
The prince loves his princess and their guillotine
It came at a handsome price but that’s alright 
Stars and moons are laid before her majesty 
Heads roll when she lifts her dainty finger
Of course a palace complete with moat and fleet of carriages 
Are added to their cause through strict taxation 
And beheadings are in season
So says the majesties
The kingdom population must learn to love the royals 
Die for them without delay
Regal matters call for such sacrifices
So stretch the necks, pray and say good-by
Decapitations are the order of the day
His lordship and lady require your property as well
Compliance with their wishes is deemed correct
Her ladyship hates the poor and all they stand for
Common folk are not real people after all
A disease, common bugs in filthy clothes
She deplores them for no reason, one and all
They simply are beneath her, that’s all she knows
Ugly creatures, born to meet the guillotine
Inferior for being who they are
In need of extermination with a single slice
Natural selection and the royals have a common cure
The lady adores no one other than herself
Mirrors placed about the palace testify 
Vacant stares illuminate her image like a super star for hours
The prince by her side, both glowing in raw power
Happy in each other’s plans for more than just romance
The poor must never know what’s up when blade comes down
It would tarnish the regal blush and glow
And heavenly beams reflecting from their halos
They are more than simple prince and princess
But criminals in the making, living in excess
Advancing to the throne through deaths
Killing peasants on a whim as they progress 
Subjects learn to love their rulers 
Torture and theft is how to keep the peace
Release the poor from properties and life
In one clean sweep, heads rolling on the castle keep 
Fear holds people down in social order
Wealth and happiness must be maintained                                                    
Prince and princess love themselves above all others
They have no complaints
The church and state though disagreed
Placed bounties on their heads
For crimes against humanity and vanity
The royals will get their final wish
To stay together; egos, beauty and all
Not within the kingdom walls, but outside the boundaries
Dangling in the wind, blessings from the pope
Government approved rope to help them swing   
Hanging side by side for all their sins
Close to the cemetery
Blowing regally in all their majesty
Outside the royal limits of propriety



Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by Lisa Geier | Details

Just a bit of meditation

If greed had not been passed down by generation 
If love and peace had not been reduced to confiscation   
If the rules of government had not been trapped through the lamination 
of corruption
Destruction
Devastation 
Leaves no room for imagination
God forgot about creation
Hope is lost in legislation 
Money runs our formation
Not given enough consideration
Deliberation
Contemplation
Hold loved ones close in the gestation 
Of the clowns who run our nation
Don’t think about the population
Oil runs through my circulation
Cut me open to reduce inflation
Masses controlled by the spread of propagation 
Minds thinking about increasing production
Not wondering about the function
To create reconciliation 
That will erase all detestation
World becoming one at the disintegration
Of hate that causes annihilation  
But we’re wrapped up in materialization 
No one thinks about moderation 
Losing the point of our conception
Watching love burn by cremation
Cultures watching their own elimination
Taken over by globalisation
Not thinking about our obligation
To bring an end to this violation 
So we can all live without feeling exclusion
Wondering what caused our distraction
As we sit in front of the television
Open your minds to this jurisdiction 
That is causing devastating afflictions
Not enough vaccinations 
To cure the spreading contamination
Children suffering from starvation
Don’t tell us it’s a peace mission it’s an invasion
Millions face extermination
Treated like an insect infestation
Super powers don’t care about liberation 
Please understand that war is not a celebration
Just because it creates an augmentation
In the economic foundation 
It’s still a disgusting molestation
Of the purity in civilization
Weapons cause death not constructive conversation
Bombs exploding cause fragmentation
Of emotions such as adoration
Synonym for love respect and devotion
The cry for peace should not be answered with explosions
Raise your hand if you agree with this motion
Was this the point of evolution? 
Ever increasing pollution
Creates a growing irritation
In the system of respiration
Symptoms close to asphyxiation  
Don’t breath in its like suffocation
This is not an exaggeration
This is not a fabrication
This is just a demonstration
Of how we caused our own obliteration
Passing on a bit of education 
Through the form of communication
Hope there's been some concentration 
Thanks for your appreciation 



Copyright © Lisa Geier | Year Posted 2008

Long Poems