Long Pay the piper Poems
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I go to church each Sunday,
God warns ‘there’s much to fear,
the world is decomposing,
the final end is near’.
I go to church each Sunday
and taste the wine and bread,
though elsewhere on our globus
raw hunger reigns instead.
I go to church each Sunday,
hear preachers’ words rebuff
repentant pauper’s pleading
‘enough is not enough’.
I go to church each Sunday,
watch candles burning bright
although they don’t enlighten
the demons of the night.
I go to church each Sunday
to wash away my sin,
while prophets make their profits
with wars that do us in.
I go to church each Sunday,
think thoughts incessantly
of all our planet’s peoples
denied equality.
I go to church each Sunday,
sit peacefully in the nave
while folks afar seek, grieving,
throughout a boundless grave.
I go to church each Sunday
to view iconic forms
alive in lancet windows
that hide unholy storms.
I go to church each Sunday,
discharge the weekly tithe,
while others pay the piper
when Reaper whets his scythe.
I go to church each Sunday
regard the holy bell,
reflecting on the wastelands
where day and night they knell.
I go to church each Sunday,
hear persons of the cloth
disguise the hell hereafter
with wartime victory froth.
I go to church each Sunday,
half perched upon a pew;
with everything so hopeless,
what else can one but do?
I go to church each Sunday,
and gaze upon the steeple,
majestic as the rockets
that plunge on placid people.
I go to church each Sunday
to hear the choir’s song
keep time with banshees shrieking
within a world gone wrong.
I go to church each Sunday
(above, doves fly in flocks),
while far flung realms are flattened
beneath the wings of hawks.
I go to church each Sunday
and pray so oft for peace,
but still the death continues,
it never seems to cease.
I go to church each Sunday
to sing sad psalms of praise,
while distant drones are humming
o’er bodies burnt, ablaze.
I go to church each Sunday,
a quest to save my soul
’gainst warfare’s pride and plunder -
prayer never plays a role.
I go to church each Sunday
my errors to confess,
while countries keep on killing
and suffer no redress.
I go to church each Sunday
the future for to see -
a man-made Armageddon
that ends humanity.
Amos was a boy from the backwoods,
lived his life back there up in the sticks.
Hunting, fishing, swimming, and drinking,
was the way he would get all his kicks.
Well now Billy showed up that summer,
why he came to those hills no one knows.
But he was always flashin’ his cash,
strutting in his fancy city clothes.
Billy said that to impress the girls,
they would need to have themselves a stash.
So they took his dad’s old 22,
went to the Piggly to steal some cash.
Chorus:
He did not want to do it,
but he let the devil talk him into it,
now he’s sitting in that cell doing his time.
Like daddy always told him,
that if you ain’t willing to pay the piper,
then you best not think about doing the crime.
They only wanted a few dollars,
never thought it would do any harm.
They did not know the cops were coming,
because they’d tripped the silent alarm.
When they showed up with their lights flashing,
he knew right then there’d be hell to pay.
There was tear gas and windows smashing,
he dropped down on both his knees to pray.
Amos was huddled in the corner,
Billy went and jumped up on a chair.
He yelled, “Come on and get me copper”,
just try to take me if you ain’t scared.
Chorus:
He did not want to do it,
but he let the devil talk him into it,
now he’s sitting in that cell doing his time.
Like daddy always told him,
that if you ain’t willing to pay the piper,
then you best not think about doing the crime.
By the time the whole thing was over,
Billy was all stretched out on the floor.
Amos was bound up in steel handcuffs,
and being escorted through the door.
All the news cameras were rolling,
them big bright lights had him nearly blind.
Shoving microphones into his face,
asking him what was his frame of mind.
At the trial, the judge said “guilty”,
Amos’s eyes filled with stinging tears,
"But, “I’m gonna be easy on you
and only give you twenty-five years.”
Chorus:
He did not want to do it,
but he let the devil talk him into it,
now he’s sitting in that cell doing his time.
Like daddy always told him,
that if you ain’t willing to pay the piper,
then you best not think about doing the crime.
wrote you down
sing it outloud
the best things in life are free
no thoughts necisary
instant fame
your new level
to sing and strum meaninglessness
not believe it
dont feeli it
plagerism of me
the papparazi writing notes on me
your fame game is sideways
best advice
take what i give you
regurgitate it
exaggerate it
paid for free
instant fame
whats the matter with you
you dont like me
dont like me at all
but thats all you hear about
through everyone else
take it all
page by page
one by one
rip em
out it wasnt my idea
it wasnt mine
he said i could heres the proof
no dotted line
scatter to gather
the resolution
such confused mess in my head
all i got to do left
is regurgitate you
never gonna be myself again
say the things you say
remember you by stealing your shoes
but then you wouldnt get away
round the revolving door of life and death
a slaughter of walking circles through the same door
i giove up
i give up
i cant do it anymore
circles leading you in
leading you out
again and again
i refuse to do it
never again
take off your shoes
better things to do
regurgitate you
say everything you said
say everything they did
again and again
knocking on the door
the endlessness of no survivors
no survivors
everyone dead
what am i supposed to say
regurgitating you
you love me to death
and no one knew
one day
the change
one day
i'll rest
one day when you see the circle of the door
in and out
into differtent slaughters
eart heaven and hell
circles of death
through the same door
and im the only one that knew
i'm the only that knew
but i never met you
so confused by my head
the heart in my chest
the eyes that never see their destiny
arms length for a date
regurgitating you
spit it out
pay the piper again
3 days of crazy
walking through that circle
supposed to be 13 days of hollow
no one knew
everyone went through
three times i saw you
i saw you
the world ended
everybody died
everybody left behind
knocking on deaths door
dont go through that door
dont go through that door
regurgitating you
regurgitating you
i dont know why
i dont know why
no one survived
yet we are here
we are
so
Oft'times I see my friends all 'round
Lke leaves of Autumn, floating down
And softly drifting, side-to-side
A passive dance, on zephryn tide
Then when the ground is covered o'er
A million leaves! A billion! More!
Each leaf contributes its full size
Then, on a stormy gust, they rise
'Til once again back to the groung
With only a faint rustling sound
They cover Earth like coats of paint
And never from them one complaint
For leaves, it seems, were bor to fall
In answer to their maker's call
So, after their day in the sun
They pay the piper, ev'ry one
God's peple, too, could learn fom them
We hang by life=thread, very slim
We live our lives as we see fit
While kowng there's an end to it
That thresd will tretc, but one day break
Then ev'ry triumph ad mistake
Will only be a memory
That's shared by friends and family
Our mem'ries are like building stones
That shield us from the tears and groans
A pebble here, a bolder there
The joys we could together share
Wallsgrow thick, and shields grow strong
A love, and lift, and help along
Each one who shares this life with us
The ones wo give to us their trust
And as we journey toward our home
It's never good to be alone
That thread may break at any time
And end our Earthly pantomime
Life's Earthly gain (and this we know)
Will wash away in time's great flow
Just gifts we've made and good we've done
Will keep our mem'ries in the sun
To shied our loved ones from the storm
Reflect sunshine to keep them warm
'Til each must turn the river's bend
We never know just how or when
So nw, dear friends, my point of view
Theere's just one thing for us to do
Please build a shield for me, will you?
I'll build, the best I can, for you
Walls grow thick
50-50
was the divorce court decree
She and I both bear the blame,
yet, why does an 800-pound gorilla
preponderance of guilt
weigh heavy on the back of me?
I know I did my shameful part
to wreck our marriage
To destroy something that was once beautiful
I’m guilty as charged ...
let the gavel of judgment come down hard
Let it pound me into the dungeon dirt floor
Laying prone, I see an equal distribution of responsibility —
Half of the woe is on her,
half of the lament is on me
Even though she and I both share in the blame:
why is there a cinder block preponderance of guilt
wrapped tight around my feet,
pulling me ... into the murky depths
of final separation misery?
No evidentiary discovery
came to my prosecutorial rescue
when I cried aloud my plaintiff plaintive plea:
Judge Judy judge ... then please have mercy on me
Though I ain’t the only one at fault —
having my soul split asunder
is the ultimate marital penalty
I truly know, she and me both are to blame,
still, a heavy rope preponderance of guilt
grow taut from the back of a moving pickup truck
dragging empty clanging cans of grief,
with a vanity plate that says: Just Got Divorced!
Untie the bind ... this kinda freedom don’t make some happy
Pay the piper for playing an arpeggio parting amicably
And the court rubber stamped my heart
with a piece of paper that said: No Longer Married
Attorney G. Eden’s closed briefcase sound:
a rusted chain swinging from a courtyard tree
was the echo preponderance of my guilt —
Lynched broken vows hanging me
Marriage went down in flames ...
only thing salvageable
was a tarnished maiden name
The Enchantress with the Greenest of Eyes
This lady is quite lovely and most fascinating with the greenest of eyes,
And she’ll easily captivate and bewitch all men she meets with no surprise.
This lady has the reddest of hair, long and full, with such a lustrous sheen,
And with her soft skin and a nubile appearance she looks just like a queen.
This lady’s grace of movement and mellifluous voice are most charming,
Which makes her all the more enthralling to men and at once most disarming.
Now one can see why this Enchantress with her comely visage of pulchritude,
Can make easy work of the men she meets and mesmerizes with such certitude.
This reflects that some people in life are not what they always appear to be,
And this Enchantress wears such a mask hiding her true self—for no one to see.
Since this is the reality for men who fall for this lady while making their pitch;
It will be obvious to many of them over time that this Enchantress is a Witch!
For men who succumb to the spell of this Enchantress, it’s time to pay the Piper,
And so they will now meet the real person behind her mask who is Satan’s Viper!
With powers of sorcery and debauchery supreme this Enchantress sets her goals,
Which is to sow fear in her victims—bringing eternal damnation to their souls!
For men who might meet this Enchantress, don’t look deeply into her green eyes!
This deep look will lock your soul under her evil power and bring on your demise!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, January 20, 2015 (Rhyme)
Karma in this life
(It's my season now)
By Michelle Morris
19/11/2022
They took me for granted
They used me up for fun
Enjoyed fun and games
Not caring how it hurt
But, they forget the lesson
About karma in this life
It's time to pay the piper
It's time to set it right
'Cos it's my season now
And I am rising high
I am free to fly
Like a shooting star
Yeah, it's my season now
And you're trailing in my wake
I've forgotten all about you
But you'll remember your mistakes
Don't let people bully you
Don't let them hurt your soul
Walk away and forgive them
Find a better place for your home
Energy is everything
And you can make it high
You deserve love and care
On your life's highway
So, sing it now...
'Cos it's my season now
And I am rising high
I am free to fly
Like a shooting star
Yeah, it's my season now
And you're trailing in my wake
I've forgotten all about you
But you'll remember your mistakes
We only get one life
But it's special and it's ours
We need to live it clean
We need to raise the bar
There's no need for darkness
Anger or regrets
If you're kind to everyone
You'll be a better friend
And you can live it now...
'Cos it's my season now
And I am rising high
I am free to fly
Like a shooting star
Yeah, it's my season now
And you're trailing in my wake
I've forgotten all about you
But you'll remember your mistakes
I've forgotten all about you
But you're paying for your mistakes
© Michelle Morris, 2022
There’s emptiness this night;
Good-byes are everywhere.
Life is such a hard thing;
Sometimes it’s too hard for me.
Those with initials preceding their name;
They might conclude I suffer.
Abandonment is always lurking;
There in the shadows; it awaits.
Living seemed so much easier;
When I could run like the wind.
I seldom was caught;
And each new place helped me forget.
I said my Good-byes a week ago;
But somehow I lied to myself.
Made up stories; dimmed the footlights;
And disguised what I couldn’t seem to face.
Maybe I’m too expecting;
Maybe this is just a passing moment;
And there really isn’t anyone else out there.
Maybe this is all just an illusion.
So I have no other choice; I’ll stuff it in my bag.
My bag already overflowing
Filled with so many designed fabrications;
Amounting to but meaningless denials.
It’s hard to believe in anything anymore;
One day you’re here; next day you’re gone.
You make a friend you lose a lover;
It’s all so discouraging and never ending.
You think you’re standing on solid ground;
Then the earth shakes and a hole opens up.
You save your pennies; buy a home and one day;
You could lose it all to the right of public domain.
WE the people, in order to form a more convenient society;
Survive in herds, accept our branding and pay the piper His dues.
But It’s all been said before and many will say they I agrees;
But inevitable it’s simply just the “same old Sh**, different day.”
Your garden is filled with bunnies –
I see them hopping around like this ….
Oh, I have been fighting those things for so long;
my husband thinks that I’m crazy.
I’m kicking against the resistance, tired and all,
but I take a rain check on giving up.
Somebody is going to pay the piper.
I am colder now;
I haven’t been hot …
for so long.
I’ll be there in no time –
my father is waiting for me.
I’ve spent milk money
to see Jack Robinson and Willie Mays
make their statements with hard wood and leather.
It is colder over here.
I was there when Luther first had that dream;
the FBI had to shut him up.
Since then, black people stop dreaming;
they’re scared of being shot.
Look what they do to my bed of lettuce.
My God, not my pak choi.
You guys are rabbit stew.
Those fools don’t know how to do it, do they?
All I want to do is get my tail back to Cincinnati.
I’ll have a damn good time,
just like I said,
I’ll have a damn good time.
You have got to know it for a while to see the changes.
I had a young man, who was helping me,
I told him let’s get the hell outa here.
What I was doing was the right thing to do;
I was ready to go.
I can’t handle it now,
but I could handle it yesterday.
I’m justice’s daughter;
I believe in free will.
I was the lady that was there.
It makes me feel good to know I’ve seen all struggles,
but my time has come.
Don’t let those precious moments pass you by.
Enjoy your life honey.
My time has come... my time has come
To rise and meet the day.
In hope the woe that follows me
Has been lost and gone astray.
As I have a desperate need to make amends
To burnish up my life.
And fight those fiendish hounds from Hell
Who wish from me another mortal slice.
My time has come... my time has come
To accomplish many things.
And make such time that I have left
Worthy to stir an Angel's heart to sing.
But time has never been kind to me
So I must wrestle with its claws.
In hopes to usurp a brief respite
And further hamper Nature's laws.
My time has come... my time has come
To seek out and find my Son.
And tell him of the pride I feel
Before my time is done.
And pray he may forgive me
For my many foolish ways.
And gather about him the memories
Of my hope for better days.
My time has come... my time has come
To further count the cost.
Where my spirit soars to right past wrongs
And find dear friends whom I have lost.
As I hope to find sweet salvation
Tucked within their warm embrace.
And with their help, a fervent desire to sample
A smattering of God's eternal Grace.
My time has come... my time has come
To settle up my debts.
As it is time to pay the piper
And surrender to the One I most respect.
So with one last thought of tasks undone,
My mortal corpse I shed.
For as you see... my time has come...
I now lie here cold and dead.