Long Joneses Poems
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My fellow countrymen, the President, Politicians, and pulpiteers Though not in a cave like Rip Van Winkle, I must have fallen asleep in "indifference and over-business". It was more than Van Winkle's 20 years, because prior to my sleep, I knew an America that dreamed of chickens in every pot; of carports, garages, and picket fences; of a good education and catching the Joneses.
It appears I am awaking, not from, but to, a nightmare; and to what am I opening my eyes to see? Me thinks it's not 'my country tis of thee'; not a chicken in the pot or fryer in the skillet. But I see leaders in the kettle like a frog, where the fire is turned down low and heating slowly. Like the frog, they are relaxed and comfortable. Oh Lord, if they only knew the manner of the frog's demise.
I see changes, and multiple evils have been removed. Recovery and relief have been appropriated and dispatched for the poor. Reforms and revivals have periodically visited us from above. I see blessings and prosperity beyond comparison; melting pots of dreamers and immigrants still dine at our tables. That's part of the American beauty.
Oh America, we are busy face-booking and twitting; But we must realize that we are also bleeding. I weep for what might lie ahead for us. I grieve for what we are becoming. I fear for us, though not of guns and nukes from afar; But for rivalries in the white house and the halls of congress. And I fear for our pulpiteers who also relax in the kettle like the frog.
07312017cjFBPH; August Standard Contest, Brian Strand Part fiction
The Alex Joneses among us
As we are coming up to Christmas, which is a feast
for the advertisers, and it is impossible turning
or switching on the radio or TV without getting an earful of sentimental songs flung at morning tired
adults before the first cup of coffee
PS. There was a time when one could write: a cup of coffee and a cigarette, we are glad tobacco is no longer
in our mind and body. Here someone is clearing throats
but find it best not to comment
A right-wing Christian and conspiracy theorist has been
allowed into Tweeter, X, and this has made the official
Press into a knot of outrage.
Elon Musk has done us a service by letting his Twitter be
a place for the burning questions to be aired.
Yes, at the same place where the perfectly awful
vulgarian and bigoted interviewer, Piers Morgan, spews
his opinions, for many who see him as a spokesperson
for despicable lies and shallow thinking
He is tolerated and has many fans among those who do
not reflect upon his utterings.
As for Alex Jones, a famous radio host, who has a theory of so many things and many of his views involve Jews, a group of people who hold American Politicians in a fateful grip of corruption and the weaponizing of
the Holocaust and in its holy name, special privileges
In Europe, Alex Jones is not well known I think he is
seen as an outspoken Billy Graham, a man I once saw
in the late fifties, preaching under a circus tent to
thousands of applauding Norwegians, many of whom thought he looked like Wild West Cowboy.
The good thing about an outlet like Twitter it gives
those with views contrary to the officials have a place
to air their opinions, without being branded a ban
(Lesley Ann Down was an actress in
the Golden Age of live TV drama.)
We live in an age of midgets.
There are no seers now, only lookers,
no values left, apart from digits.
Cash is the hook, and we’re all hookers,
no Carmen Joneses, only Bridgets.
Did you have to learn the equation
(“have to”? – what an odd suggestion!)
which represents acceleration?
It’s printed now, beside the question.
No gravity, just gravitation.
Subtitle writers, now, can’t spell,
and language teachers know no grammar.
When banks are hiring tellers, well,
in Alabaster, Alabama,
they sing aloud, “You Never Can Tell”.
Let’s get somewhat more sarcastic.
Our carpenters just never get wood.
Today our craftsmen just squirt mastic,
then, as any moron could,
they clip on bits of precut plastic.
We’ve got police (I like this best!)
who, far from being Texas Rangers,
have never passed exams or tests,
and can’t, by law, face any dangers,
or run rash risks, like make arrests.
No Richard Rodgers, Buddy Holly,
no more Stoller (as in Lieber),
but ‘tis the season to be jolly –
after all, there’s Justin Bieber!
Hence, loathéd melancholy!
Colors of Confusion
Red
Orange
Yellow
Green
Blue
Blue, I feel blue as I stare into an idea confused by the new:
Divided States of America.
Formally the United States of America.
Epstein’s dead, suicide they said…
Hollywood’s elite, they are all creeps.
Antifa/BLM cynical groups that believe Police are criminals.
Trump was President, it was pinnacle; a miracle that we survived in a country divided by hate.
What is the real mission of the politicians?
It’s the have and the have not’s, the keeping up with the Joneses era.
The Carbonaro effect.
The Media implants these thoughts of sorts, controlled by technology we are robots
Looking for a hotspot, wifi, somebody let me in, let me online.
We have gone mad, it’s sad.
Slaves, modern day slaves to tik tok, instagram, Facebook, such crooks robbing us of human interactions.
What’s the attraction?
as i light a candle for you
i brake down and cry
for i have done everything
i think i should do
i have sat people down
in a pew of there own
even greeted and said
"good morning" and "hello"
i gave the change that was
in my cup holder
and i save the bulletins
i keep in a folder
i tell people what i do for you
and how much i give over a drink
or two , not to brag or boast
just so they no that i am
in your house i never curse
always pray for the things i want
but when i am home i'm on the phone
telling everybody the the Joneses are
divorcing ,and the Wagner's are in
foreclosure, it's harmless.
we yell at each other because we
have guilt and shame cursing you
using your name in vain
nothing ever changes my prayers
you never even consider
i am tired of all this
there has to be more
all the good deeds i have done for you
mean nothing in your sight so true
dirty vessel cold and stained
in my heart of guilt and shame
need the emptiness purged and filled
need a savior to fill the need
for the stains of the past
have already been washed away
he spilled his blood for me and that is true
to take away the sin of the world
and leave me white as new
if you are empty and nothing is new give your
life to JESUS do his will for the life you lead
is now gonna be dead
pick up your mat and walk
and sin no more
i tell you the truth your stains
will be gone
because they have been washed away
A no answer machine
Our basic instincts are to find love and run through the woods.
From the tree’s we climb down to walk like a man;
No longer on all fours.
Now we do not need to give thanks, for the food we have;
We deserve to be full.
All beautiful art fades eventually,
As we all become too dull.
No more to say…
I let it all just slide away.
Nothing will be relevant on the final day.
Keeping up with the Joneses;
Mobile phones are diseases.
Conversation is dead;
Only speak if it pleases.
Couple’s councilor, I could not manage to go.
So come or go, or let me go, if you think that I would care.
Love is not amazing anymore,
I would say it is just so, so.
Why would I bother speaking to you, when you are no longer there?
Phone on silent;
She is a no answer machine.
No reply necessary;
The end of the dream.
(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Keeping up with the Joneses
What I see is what I want
Trapped in a comparison trap
Never ending loop of haunt
If only this then I’ll be happy
Easy to oversimplify
Grass is always greener
Your own situation gets vilified
Pursuing others perceived perfection
Hunting down their fantasy
Find yourself living vicariously
Needing to fit into normality
Consumed with consuming
Look around and realize
Marching toward material things
Doesn’t make blissfulness materialize
Scrolling for an answer
Eyes glued to a screen
Put down your weapon
Start chasing your own dream
Time to flip the script
Accept your reality
Live your version of happiness
Then you’ll be set free
Christmas is coming
And I myself once upon a time
Much like the goose was getting fat
I am now sadly not
For I am currently now getting
thinner than
The leftover wishbone from this
year's thanksgiving's turkey
I managed to scavenge from my
next door neighbors bins
After they we're obviously finished
and done with so therefore eventually
threw the remaining scraps out
Who if they knew or I was willing
to admit the dire state of the situation
I find find myself mired in
Would surely then have offered to
take me in and provide me with
whatsoever help they could
But sadly my own self pride ego
and wanting to keep pace and up
with the Joneses
Will and has left me again sadly
with nothing more
Than hunger pains and grumbling
noise in the pit of my stomach
And a perfectly stripped chewed down
to the bone , wishbone
And hopefully 1 wish still remaining
in tow
So here goes
How I wish it was only them suffering
this unholy indignation as apposed
to me
Or I had taken just a single moment
of my precious time
To be a better neighbor give a damn
or care about anything or anyone
Other than me myself and only i
Some people like keeping up with the Joneses
I do not know any Joneses who could keep up with me
So I have elected to keep up with the gnomes
How absurdly difficult could that task be?
I like wearing leggings, and I have no height
I love gardens, faerie houses,and toadstools you see.
I am pretty confident I can keep up until FFFT!
They begin rapidly disappearing in front of me.
I scrunch up my face, and concentrate ridiculously hard.
What about keeping up with faeries? Fairies begin to giggle.
I have not giggled in a long long time, annoying my own petard.
How about a dragon fly, I think as I begin my wing-trying-out wiggle.
The Good Old Days
Take me back to the good old days
When we were grateful for what we had
Now people have much more than they need
And society has gone bad
Greed is the keyword and money their God
Everyone out for themselves
I remember a time when we thought we were rich
If we had food on our shelves
People have to keep up with the Joneses'
Bigger house, bigger car, better job
But trying to keep up with the Joneses’
Just makes people think they're a snob
They look down their nose at ones poorer than them
Think they're better than everyone else
Just because they've got private health care plans
And the poor have got National Health
I don't know what our ancestors would think
If they were alive today
They'd probably think we'd all be better off
Living life like the good old days