Long House of cards Poems
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SPECIAL INTEREST
With the thought processes of the masses overwhelmed
By the heavy burden
Of no influence on policy
And with little scope for advancement
Up the greasy pole
Insurrection and rebellion abound
Catching the chattering classes off guard
Traducing a broke government is the new game
To incite discontent and to pander to
Front page democracy the new weapon
Of those whose frustrations
Know no bounds
Unions and lobbyist throw their
Handbags out their prams
Yet they provide no new income streams
For a government on its knees
The pension pot is the new not to
Be touched holy grail
Its reverence brings to the fore those
Who wish every proceeding generation
To pay for today’s profligacy
Money comes money goes
Often the government seems to have none
To spend it all on special interest
Is a very selfish goal
This new era of austerity is but long overdue
A curb on the excesses that let the selfish
Do as they would please to do
With society’s blank cheques
A welcome break for the taxpayer
The one who petulantly foots the bill
Those that want more may need to pay more
A progressive system is not unwarranted
Tax is but essential to fill the pot
Those that have but give not
A blot on an otherwise decent lot
How selfishly all sides do behave
They want but refuse to give
To be the one who wins all
Exceeds all other considerations
No compromise is considered best policy
To lobby
To influence
To fool
These are the goals of the one sided
Minstrels of the selfish school
Knocked from their little thrones they rise
They but skew interest towards their cause
An unfair system
Built like a house of cards
That flutters in the wind of change
Selfishness is but a wanton Unhealthy game
A grand state of decay is society
Where wants and expectations
Outgun reality
A government unwilling to be brave
Allows democracy to shiver and shake
A useless waste of a vote
A dismal disgrace
Society is but made up of parts
That only function if all contribute
And everyone gains
Grappling hands should be slapped
We must all enjoy what our hard work has begot
A delicate balancing act is government policy
Frustratingly it seldom meets its aims
For the unintended consequences
Forever drown the initial good
Not everyone sadly wants policy to do some good
Seek out what’s best for you
Always remembering it’s not
All about you
It’s okay to be nervous
But there’s no need to fight
When colors flow inside of shapes
You have taken flight
Directions will be pointed
But you’re flying much too high
Caterpillars may inhale smoke
But eat plants to Butterfly
Put that in your pocket
It’s still too soon to see
Calm child, your only worry now
Is how to Drink More Tea
It is the glue that binds us all
Like a Milky Way of toads
Not all venoms taste so sweet
Not all Big Bangs explode
For this place holds a balance
Despite its ever scattering mess
The brightest stars super nova
Within their ego deaths
The implosion of undertow left
Is so dense that it is black
Inside of it light cannot escape
And that’s your beacon back
Now we’ve reached a point
And would you look at that
You’re looking more and more like me
And I a Cheshire Cat
You’re getting so much bigger
And the hang of this place
You’ve eaten the right mushroom pieces
And now you want to race
But before you venture off
And go be on your own
I must forewarn not all that live here
Want this fabric sewn
See while this place’s purpose
Remains to figure out one’s toll
There exist a house of cards
That aims to take control
And if they knew the things I’ve told you
Already I’d be dead
I can still hear the shriek of her voice
Screaming “Off with his head!”
They torture us inside the courtyard
For being who we are
For contemplating philosophy
And expanding minds too far
They’ve found a way to take our treats
And replace them with their tarts
They are boy and girl, but not like us...
The king and queen of hearts
The famous duo and powerful friends
Only want control
You’ll find them at the very bottom
Where demons infect your soul
See, the tarts they manufacture
Once you try you cannot stop
White coated hares recommend them
While their masters sit on top
Once you’ve tasted just a few
For an even smaller amount of time
You can no longer live without them
No matter how many times you try
And once you’re on their hooks
They take away your life
Drug to the courtyard to be judged
More pain, agony, and strife
But it’s at this point you should realize
Before you hear her shout
That I warned you of all this
And have told you the way out
Just reach deep in your pocket
If the situation becomes grotesque
And if you figure it out you’ll know
Why a raven is like a writing desk
She’s dead
But will always stay alive
A beacon for everyone with a gripe
Thatcher snatcher was their war cry
When with apparent vigour
She tore asunder all society held dear
A divisive strong willed fighter
With femininity covering a steely frame
She moved gracefully among men
A force of reckoning
In a world sphere where enemies are held dear
She finally met her maker
But will never die
Her legacy outlives her presence
A formidable opponent now in a grave
With glee they gloat
Ding dong the wicked witch is finally dead
Praises and condemnation come from all over the globe
Some will assess her on her overall impact
Both then and until now
Others will always remember wrongs
That were brutally inflicted
On an apparently obedient society and country
Dragging us away from our empire building
Death always calls
He will not be out smarted
No matter the heights in politics one reaches
An end of a life
Often brings a renewed interest in the past
The bandwagon has catapulted her
Back into The limelight
When she was almost forgotten
To divide and rule seemed to have been her best skill
Her un-bending no alternative mantra
Caused much ill-will
Yet the country prospered
The right to buy scheme made
Home ownership possible
A vote buying scheme
That made the middle class grow
Pity the milk tokens are what condemns her so
She hammered a few who with
Entrenched special interest
Mangled the country
Stagnating both the economy
And society
The belief in individuality
Coupled with free market economics
Set up a house of cards that blew over
Long before she breathed her last
Virulent machismo
Where the sharks circled
Even when they smelt no blood
Overcame her eventually
She was of course partly to blame
But no one has ruled since as she did
A woman in a man’s world was she
Wielding much power
Over the men that surrounded her
Over Her party and ultimately a short sighted country
To the pinnacle of both party
And country she rose
Her handbag swung far and wide
Her three times victory
A testimony to her longevity
And he ability to play the system
She didn't invent
Rest In peace
Or pieces Maggie
You came
You Conquered and
Have now left the stage
Your legacy will be fought over incessantly
(The Battle for Orgreave Pit)
Cries of Zulu as miners rushed the barricades
Truncheons banging against riot shields
A nation at war with itself
Men of South Yorkshire,
United in the right to defend their pit
Maggie’s the Caesar of capitalism
Her legionnaires bought with 30 pieces of silver
Brought from the four corners of this septic isle
To take away another man’s right.
To destroy his culture, his freedom, his way of life
A democracy of road blocks and strip searches
England for the few
While miners live on Pots of rabbit stew
Demonised by the elected south,
Propaganda their stew.
Orgreave, now a place of forgotten ghosts
And Coal the driver of this great economic power
All gone
Memories, now overwhelmed by the banks and the city
But power is fleeting, a house of cards
For they too have felt the wind of recession
So beware the hurricane, or you too might become extinct
And what Caesar will save you.
Footnote to this poem
This poem is about the Miners’ Strike, June 18th 1984
As a young lad and bizarre as it may seem I played in a 5 a side football match at Orgreave Pit on this day.
My way was blocked by 1000s of miners and a cordon of Police blocking our access with barriers of Riot Shields.
We made our way to the front and asked a Policeman to let us through. To my amazement the cordon opened and we were let through.
Behind us was a surge of Miners all shouting Zulu. It must have been a rallying call, for me it was a magnificent site, a place of community rebellion, a place to be proud of. In response the Police beat their shields with truncheons. The sounds were deafening,
From the sides mounted police horses galloped into the crowd causing miners to fall and split. This was war without guns. The Miners regrouped and the Cry of Zulu saw miners coming over fields and down the lane charging at the barricade of shields, the sounds of the clashes were unbelievable. At the end of the day I was coming home there were coaches of police holding up their wage packets to the window at the remnants of miners now left, a final insult to the miners. None of this was reported at the time.
There’s a score to be settled, there’s revenge to be had,
And it’s best to not f k with a woman this mad.
But like always, you push me, you push me too far,
So now I’ll discard you like the trash that you are.
Did you think I’d forgive you after all of your lies?
Did you really believe me? Trust my loving disguise?
Are you really so stupid that you thought that I could,
Or are you so arrogant to think that I would?
A liar, a cheater, a thief and crook,
Too late to give back my soul that you took.
So here I am lover, with a hole in my chest,
And I’ve planned to destroy you, so prepare for my best.
Now that you love me, and it’s me who you need,
I wonder how badly I can make your heart bleed.
My anger stays patient, behind this empty smile,
But I am the judge and you will soon stand my trial.
I’ve not been so faithful, who knew I could be so bad?
And instead of feeling guilty it’s the most fun I’ve ever had.
The cheating wasn’t the thrill, it was the coming home to you,
Knowing what I just did, and then giving it to you too.
I don’t know when I became so dirty, I really have no shame,
But you made up the rules, I’m just playing your game.
At first I had to get even, but soon I had upped you one,
And before I could even stop it, Vendetta was on the run.
Every night I come home to you, I look you in the eyes,
I speak of love and life, and fill your head with lies.
Every night when I make love to you, I want you to know,
But I keep my secrets deep inside, and let your feelings grow.
Karma has been waiting to kick your a s for quite awhile,
Anticipation of your broken heart really makes me smile,
Because very soon my love, the full attack is on,
And everything you think is true will very much be gone.
So you can find another sucker to grow old with and lie,
And I can be the one you think of til you die.
The one that got away, the one who broke your heart,
The one who took your house of cards, and tore that s t apart.
(contd....)
Beneath the endless waves lays a body
Piscine and bow-legged; felt from miles away
Next to it, I sit
Lungs half-full, dappled sunlight caressing me
An abyssal peace shared with none
A third dimension for a third generation
Thinking beyond forward and back, left and right
To breach that holiest of axes; Z
Shunned by most and ignored by the one I sought to share it with
I retreat to this watery womb where I once hid
When the fear that I blighted their's
Was all-consuming and fruitful
These beasts do stand on land
Battered by the ridges we mastered
Unable to see beyond X and Y
A trio of terror; locked to two dimensions
In the endless summer sun, it's easy to imagine
Countless grains of sand, like stars in space
A massive axe, a laptop, a condom
A perfect weapon of your choosing
I am your lord of summer
A queen of the season I loathe the most
A king of the titles they so adored
Your eternal champion of sweat and rust
Light and dark revolving around a spore
Both ensconced as eternal and unbeatable
Yet hesitant to ever return, lest it spoils the memory
And reduces a house of cards to ash
A world rises beneath my feet
Forever tattooing truth upon the soil
The beauty of the bite-sized
Lost upon the target I aimed for
Thus do futures slip away from them
Forever wondering what they'd think of them
Does it set your teeth to grinding the way mine do
Watching our archetypes perform their symphony?
Even in a golden age, I dreamt of another
Ever wishing I lived a dream younger
Only to look back fondly the older I get
Laughter, not bitter, but admonishing
So I drop back into that cerulean sunset
And admire the beasts swimming leagues and aeons beneath
Dragging my waterlogged frame back to shore
For a piscine meal before the sun sets
Life's a beach, and a lonely one at that
But this lonely beach is forever cast in gold
Eternally warm, but never burning
An abyssal peace away from time.
"My prayer is for war to be banished from earth,
and for peace and harmony to exist for all mankind."
_by Constance
___________________________
storms shake the ocean of my sleep
where people talk with wooden faces
and peace is like a delicate flower
beautiful, and hope is a fragile seed
my prayer, wish and plea is for peace
for every country of this vast world
for all people to come together and talk
able to speak over a cup of tea
so, speak no words like weapons that incite
but have polite, calm discussions
with many ideas on how to solve a problem
exchanges back and forth and back
my prayer, wish and plea is for peace
we would need no borders anymore
every country would welcome you
and peace would grow and grow
storms shake the ocean of my sleep
where people talk with wooden faces
and peace is like a delicate flower
beautiful, and hope is a fragile seed
oh, blood would never seep like red teardrops
peace would not be broken in battles of ego
for earth now is a house of cards falling
remember, we all share the roof of the world
so, speak no words like weapons that incite
but have polite, calm discussions
with many ideas on how to solve a problem
exchanges back and forth and back
"You may say I'm a dreamer but
I am not the only one. " _John Lennon
____________________
March 23, 2022
Poetry/Free Verse/My Prayer For Peace
Copyright Protected, ID 03-1441-801-23
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Your Peace Message To The World
sponsor, Anoucheka Gangabissoon, Judged04/17/2022
First Place
a one against all iconoclast
eat my shorts was his hello
after being driven from the village
by the Iceberg Clan physical therapists
and their dictatorship of deduction
a mere fascination with the grotesque
boasting an indignant moral high ground
their vast distortions parading as what's next
none of which was actually observant
ordered the award of a certificate of exile
prompting futile biographical excess
told his life story in a whisper
to the audience on the bus stop bench
in the fabled Flat Lands of Disturbia
trying to be more than what he thought he was
had the soul of a humming bird
chose his objects of adoration wisely
dodging recruiter demons at all hours
kick starting a thousand slave rebellions
you instigate one you instigate them all
inching up to the black widow at web central
twitching the cables just enough
with the help of his archangel air cover
shielding his free will for eternity
just enough for the look-o-meter
to get him through the mine fields
driving a '49 Mercury like he stole it
it is theater pure and simple
a Fellini runway extravaganza
playing evil A against evil B
resist and defy were his left and right
victory payouts collectible at Ed the Bookie's
a Ponzi scheme of titanic proportion
cosmic efficiencies being what they are
where the hierarchies choke hold your neck
zigging and zagging like sparring ghosts
a house of cards inside a hall of mirrors
forcing themselves not to look
since when have the observant sages
ever managed to end our misery
made it gnashingly worse more likely
If the amputation scars are any indication
this is a bad review no stars
in case you were wondering
a lot of that's not right out there
but only because context is everything
a blind eye is a blind eye
thoughts are surfaces
profit of lost souls
In the profit of lost souls
A twenty first century global order
where paper trails all but disappear
and trade moves at light speed through
Complex numbers and feedback loops of uncertainty
in a blink of an eye companies can die
and where nothing seems real at all
Fresh out of college with their MBA’s
young mathematicians
quantify risks in calculus of the mind
of binary systems of information
hedging and shifting derivatives of
machine driven numbers made mad
Of exploiters predators and prey
of slipping shads and profits in disguise
shock doctrines of deceptions and decay
Through the lucid shadows of terminology
at their device conditioned minds do their bid
market schemes of house of cards
in halls of mirrors and disguise
where transparency there is none
Where interests bleed the wire bare
leaving children with sunken stares
in the aristocracy of our times
when king midis plays Nero’s fiddle
to the burning flames of creative destruction
Metaphors of lust where hungry ghosts turn to dust
short term gains with blinders on the bottom line
cement forests over and destroy our earthly seeds
to darken that which wasn’t dark
turning living clay into warm decay
In endless glut for licking lips
reside in boss tweeds barbarity of austerity
proclaiming ideas of progress with myths of
markets amidst the wounded fauns
To those nickel and dimed
left stranded condemned to prisons of grime
where whistle blowers don’t dare and corruption
lies bare commodified amidst the pillars of plutocracies
with greasy palms and open pockets
Supply sided for the wealth of nations
where Keynesian's are all but dead
amidst the profit of lost souls
Here…the pen
there the paper
whiter than snow
yesterday laid upon the sill of my laughter
overturning my frown
like a table in the house of God and goodness
Crying JOY!
till ...Be not alive with joy! whispers ....find solace in the crime of wishful sadness….because joy will only...don't you see ...
it flows around you in swirls like a chiffon dress
taken from the closet of the owner of the house you clean
you drape it across your bent shoulders and become
Cinderella…transformed in twinkles and sparkling fairy dust
born anew….in transcendence
Ethereal waves flow about you as you swirl the room
a mystical band strikes up lovely lordly notes
and a car door slams shut
the house of cards falls from your fingertips to the marble tiles…
which do not
somehow turn into the safe congoleum
of your own modest kitchen
You dash and smash the dress back into the closet
crushed
reality is not like the movies
paper is sullied by the ink
and your smile ...by guilt
You take up your magic wand
return to scrubbing the toilet bowl
bashful and again bowed before the
reflection in the gold knobbed vanity
but still in angelic rebuttal... the tinkle...the wondrous unearthly voice
inside cries
Joy...Joy...Joy