Long Garbage man Poems
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Four pages of parchment to write a constitution;
Relief bills numbering 5,593 is tyranny; not a solution.
It is high time the tyrants in Washington,
Sat down, shut up, and lay down their guns!
Please do not think this to be hyperbole.
For here it is, the very reality.
Not to blow governments cover;
But they’ve found more ways to tax us than to leave your lover.
Every day we live, we must pay governments bill.
Even after we die, they are taxing us still.
When I looked at it, I did discern,
Government will confiscate over half what I earn.
This is not freedom.
This is serfdom.
I believe this, a quite apt explanation.
We are all slaves on government’s plantation.
Now all across the U.S.A.
I envision a better way.
We shall end the imperial presidency,
Along with judicial tyranny.
We will give no more quarter,
To rule by executive order.
We will remove the repugnant stench,
Of judges who legislate from the bench.
Congress shall pass no law in the land;
Then exempt their own merry little band.
Enacting a form of balanced budget protection,
Any Congress that fails shall be banned from running for re-election.
Borders are defended in all situations.
Anything less is surrendering to invasion.
Citizen’s vote!
Aliens don’t!
We will all be just humans;
As we end the delusion;
That the color of one’s face;
Makes them from a separate race.
Military service and taxes are both voluntary.
We shall have liberty, in ways revolutionary.
The garbage man who hauls my trash away.
Can plan to own the company one day.
The auto worker constructing my ride,
Makes it right, because of their pride.
Chefs prepare meals like they were eating it.
Builders build homes like they were buying it.
Teachers teach, preachers preach, doctors heal, lawyers make deals;
The carousel of progress moves forward for real!
3-26-21 C
Sidewalks are broken
Weeds grow through the cracks
The people that use them are like the sidewalks,
broken and worn down
They have names like Turkey, Louie the Bum,
The Sandman
No one knows their real names
They call me Kid
You see, no one cares
All they care about is survival,
the next minute, then the minute after that
And so it goes
This is my school, for life
In these alleys, on these sidewalks
Where no one can tell if the garbage man came
Where grey is black and black is death
Where rainbows are neon and books are wriiten on stone walls,
in paint
It's where you can get knifed for a nickel
And die for seeing things you shouldn't see
It's another world
It's where those that had come to die
And those already here feed on them until they do
How is it no one sees?
Are they all.. blind?
They created this place
This filthy space between us and them
You'll find no advertisements for whiskey in their suburbs
Just manicured grass
They look and say
" Look at them.What's wrong with them?Don't they know any better?"
As if we chose to be born in hell
Sure..
This is the first place I'd pick
Bad schools, broken windows, no jobs
But hey...their sign says Buy Whiskey
Fools!
How little they see
How little they know
In their world pain is a commodity to be sold by drugstores
Their world would be over if someone turned down a dinner date
Their lives would be over if they were ignored
They would see their lives crumbling
I laugh
We were born in crumbling
If someone leaves us it's because they're dead
Either shot or stabbed, one to many needles in the arm
It doesn' matter...no one cares
Those that aren't here seem blind
My day is now over and I must be aware
I might trip and fall, scratch my knees
Would anyone have a band aid?
Do you know where I could find one?
Do you even care?
All the President's Men
I read in the press that Donald Trump
The American president gives off a peculiar smell
that many dislike but act as if nothing
When the boy, the garbage man, picked up the waste
to the few who could hire him
He had a horse and cart, and invited me to ride
With him, he gave the rain so he could read the local
paper; I was proud to try to get the horse to walk
faster, but it knew the route and ignored me
The garage man had a peculiar smell, too, which is
normal, surrounded as he was by other people
detrious
Could it be that President Trump suffers from
the same problem
Let me rap to you about where I'm from.
Sidewalks are broken, weeds grow through the cracks.
The people that use them are like the sidewalks,
broken and bummed out.
They have handles like Turkey, Louie the Bum, Sand man.
No one's hip to their real names.
They all think they're righteous.
Me, they call me Kid, so don't be freaking out,
no one cares, it is what it is.
All we care about is the hustle.
The next minute, then the minute after.
So it goes.
This, is my school, I'm hip to it.
In these alleys, on these sidewalks,
where no one can tell if the garbage man came,
where rainbows are neon, books are painted words,
scrawled on concrete walls.
It's where you can get sliced for a joint,
and die for seeing what you shouldn't.
It's cool, don't sweat it.
It's another realm man, so don't flip your wig.
No manicured grass here, only advertisements for whiskey.
Are you hip to it, what I'm laying down.
Listen up my brother, cause I'll be bookin.
In this place, pain is a commodity,
sold by dealers and pimps.
Can you dig it.
I gotta split man, before the fuzz comes.
So hang loose, I gotta drop a dime,
to my connection.
Maybe I'll catch you on the flip side.
1960's slang
contest..Talk the Talk and Walk the Walk
A Little Kindness Never Hurts
A little kindness never hurts,
yet today, find extremely rare.
Indifference foretold for last days,
cause fewer people … care.
I posses God’s gift of free will,
gives me choice, of how I will act.
Kindness and impartiality,
daily my way of life … true fact.
With unprejudiced servants heart,
quickly learned to bite my tongue.
Instead, give compliments, graciously
to all races, aged, homeless … young.
Being kind, natural as breathing,
if to all men, dignity show.
If follow Christ example,
with or without words ... kindness know..
Acknowledge someone’s important,
give generous tip, thank you, a smile,
Cashier, maid, garbage man , police,
handicapped … or unruly child.
Peace, kindness, love flow, from respect
for men, from various walks of life.
When don’t seek to always be right,
might find loving … husband or wife.
Nice feelings stir within my heart,
concept … wish mankind could feel, know.
When,“consider others better,”
way, Phil. 2:3 … does show.
Concept … foundation for kindness,
easier be kind, do no harm.
If world practiced what I believe,
it might not … take up arms.
A Little Kindness Never Hurt
December 3, 2018
Enter contest by Brenda Chirl
My bones are creaking and my bed is squeaking
Im one short of eighty nine
Bosom friends come gather around me
Lets crack some jokes and drink some wine
Long lost relatives are looking me up
Their eye on my wealth, damn they really suck
I spend my days thinking what must I do
I want to leave it to someone who is true
There is a beggar on my street who wishes me well
I think I could leave him some and make him swell
Or the garbage man who comes knocking at my door
Cleans my porch and the verandah floor
Missionaries of charity, that’s where I will put some
For the cause of orphaned kids, lost and lonesome
Or to the church which I often visited
Where I’ve left my prayers and alms distributed
But to that crafty old woman who walked out on me
I will leave my rusty ring on the tombstone in the cemetery
We are sluggish and miserable and fighting and mean.
Our collie is dragging, she's angry as any lop-off-your-head queen.
The temperatures are heating us up in a variety of ways.
Our attitudes match the temperatures, there is no relief these days.
Our cat Poindexter Puddle Pooh is so snarly, persnickety and mad
We heard her call the garbage man a name, and it sounded like cad.
Temps have been over a hundred, mostly 112 for a month and a half.
There is no breeze, no rain, no moisture, no wind, not even a draft.
We are unruly, a mob, angry as hops, staying inside with our clan.
This is not exciting or fun by anyone's imaginative plan.
We are staying inside, but if the air conditioning breaks
I have to admit, it would be worse than ten thousand tooth aches.
We are not happy, we are nasty, we are irritable, wet to go off.
Ready to annihilate our enemies, we do eye-rolling, and plenty of scoff.
We have played video games until our eyes are too tired to see.
I wish the rain would come soon. I am starting to hate my TV.
The dog is wanting a litter box for himself, he will not go outside.
I do not blame him. With this weather, I want a cave in which to hide.
Don't clog,read this blog
Careful with the pipes
Don't stop up the toilets,
Cause aint no plumber coming'',
That bad tooth, that hurts to the root,
News flash, ‘ain't no dentist open'.
Separate your garbage,
Garbage man aint doing extra,
No has mask suits or gas mask,
They aint up for the task.!.
Pray on the internet, cause your church is closed.
If the catch you gathering your church will be exposed.
You need to activate your MacGyver,mode.
Eat food that is expired,
pull out your tooth with the pliers,
cut up a sheet and make diapers,
Make hand sanitizer, and wipes;
clean off your cards after you swipe.
Use coffee filters and cotton,
add stretchy cord and cover.
Stand 6 feet away from your brother,
sister, and Mother, an any others.
Grow food in plastic bottles.
Again, I say, you must
learn to maneuver like MacGYVER;
O’ and don’t throw nothing away,
you may need it on the ''May-Day,''
If, when ‘’Rona‘’ Comes your way.
Don't clog, read this blog…
Careful with the pipes
Don't stop up the toilets,
Cause aint no plumber coming',
aint nobody Comin’,
Everyone is running.!
Cause they don’t want Carona.!
Ambulance aint comin’…
‘’Boys in blue aint coming.’’
Everyone is running,
thinking you may have the virus.
Better take the
Herbs, and bush and vitamins.
Better get innovative.
Like the farmer said to the potato
I will plant you now, and dig you later.
So, y'all better maneuver like
MACGYVER, Soul inspiring.
MAKE AWAY OUT OF NO WAY
''Cause ain't nobody comin’.!
She speculated in the morning that the dump truck might not come.
But it did.
So she worried that it might fall apart in front of her driveway, blocking her in,
But it did not.
She then speculated that the garbage man might ask her for a cool drink of water,
So she took it out,
But by the time she had laboriously climbed the sixteen outside steps
And finally arrived at the curb, the enormous green garbage truck was gone.
She speculated that the driver had sped up so he would not have to drink her water.
Not entertaining a single thought that she might have been wrong.
She is luxuriously swinging in her freshly-painted porch swing now,
Worrying over and over that her mailman might trip over the rusty garden rake
That her husband left lying across their sidewalk last night.
What if he breaks his neck? She thought.
What will we do then?
Will he sue us?
She spent the whole
Day worrying and
Speculating.
Never thinking
To simply
Move the
Rake.