Long Shareholders Poems
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This weekend's reading
It appears a rare type of moss thrives on
Mars climate, soon we will see a green planet
and since one thing leads to another there
will be rabbits and foxes and perhaps sheep
We are delighted to see Maron lost his gamble
and we can look forward to sane policy
that can help end the Ukraine war by using
the trusted negotiation? Probably not
Hungary is in charge of the EU for six months
Orban, the man, is getting busy fighting
EU, democracy and hopefully win on point
but von der Leyen, the president of moss
grown countries will still be there.
a leading newspaper is glad Assange has
are free, we wilt long memories remember
when it vilified our Julian, but we will be
magnanimous and forgive the written
sometimes an editor has to bend to the will
of shareholders
The czars and the kings will hold on to their throne chairs
until they are dragged out kicking and screaming,
tweeting all the way to their dungeons.
Nuclear winter is a few years down the road, but global warming
will have people flocking to Kansas soon from Florida which
will drop into the sea.
The Texaco Shareholders and their families will build a wall,
and stay inside, breathing their own greed and selfishness.
Jesus will be saving other planets, not concerned at all about our silliness,
as we have so many wanna-bees here.
Stocks will go up and down, so many times. It will be called the
yo-yo year of the stock market.
The girl next door will develop narcolepsy and
refuse to come out of her house or answer the door,
not telling us it has flown into agoraphobia.
It will be the year of the PIG, and the pig will be orange
and be featured on balloons with diapers.
A misogynist bully-pig.
This is what I think.
They wrote laws
with cold ink
and dried blood in the margins.
They called it
the Black Code
the way one names a prison
with clean words
so as not to hear the screams.
In the harbors
the powdered gentlemen
counted bodies
the way one counts coins
barrels
harvests
sacks of coffee
livestock promised to the fields.
And man became
movable property.
Yes
movable property
like a chair
like a table
like a broken tool
replaced without a prayer.
The triangular trade
drew its salty routes
between oceans
and even the storms were sometimes ashamed
to carry those ships.
In the holds
a human cargo
breathed on its knees
inside the caulking of darkness
children pressed against silent mothers
old men chained together
men turned into captives
before being buried alive.
The shipowner calculated profits
without looking the sea in the eyes.
The slave trade
had accountants
shareholders
Sunday prayers
and well-dressed murderers.
They called it civilization.
Then the whip spoke
in a language of leather
a language that opened backs
the way one opens a field for plowing.
And the masters laughed.
There was servitude
from dawn until the stars
hunger tied to ankles
bodies sold
names erased
the slow dehumanization
that turned human beings
into obedient shadows
into numbers
into sweat.
And then the rape
always lurking behind a door
inside a room without a sky
where even the night itself
no longer dared to enter.
There was the hanging
raised like an evil tree
to teach fear
to those who still dreamed of freedom.
Enslavement
was not only a chain
it was a gigantic machine
an imperial mechanism
that devoured peoples
and spat out sugar
cotton
and silence.
But listen carefully.
Beneath the scars
something was still resisting.
A song.
A drum hidden inside the chest.
A memory stronger than iron.
For no Black Code
no whip
no hanging
no merchant of men
has ever truly managed
to completely kill
human dignity.
The middle class here can't be saved
When 0.001% act so depraved
Their wealth without end
These royals* still pretend
Did not come from us—their
enslaved**
*The Royals: CEOs, Banksters, Revolving Door Regulators, The FED, Congressmen for sale, Lobbyists, Board Members of Big Corporations, Major Shareholders who vote for these Board
Members, Corrupt Managers, Dishonest Used Car Salesmen, Presidential Candidates with more than two Residences, Elected Presidents (and their lackeys who pretend to regulate but look the other way)
**The Enslaved: Workers, Career Regulators who are trying to protect the public, Honest Hard Working Citizens, Students--some with oppressive loans, Immigrants, Soldiers, Police, Firemen and Firewomen, Parents, Children, Orphans, Disabled, The Sick, Small Business Owners (who don’t hire lobbyists), Volunteers, Health Care Workers, Welfare Recipients, Inventors, Investors, Entrepreneurs, Actors, Artists, Journalists who do in-depth investigation (not like those with FOX News, ABC Radio or many other of the outlets where they mouth the status quo), Non Profit Corporations, Charities, Teachers, Transportation Workers, Waiters and Waitresses, Dishwashers, Servants, Farmers, Managers, Ship Hands, Cooks, Unemployed
Author' s Note: Have been at Occupy Wall Street 8 days in the past two months--which is why I haven't been here--plus I have to work. Miss you all, but it's for a good cause. I am very briefly seen on Conan's feature: Triumph the Insult Comic Dog at Occupy Wall Street if you are looking for some humor with a little umph.
'We don't like to look our kill in the face'
......Greg Palast
'The problem is, Corporations have neither
bodies to kick nor souls to be damned'
......Andrew Jackson
Human emotion will be diminished, too messy.
Trans humanism is a creeping chokeweed.
Goggles will be required to view reality
as perceived by shareholders, corporate
pollinators are seeding their outcomes
directly into your brain. 'I remember when
free thought (the good) was individual
choice' We will wistfully explain to our
grandchildren.
I take my instruction from natural rights,
Awake, am I, and in control of my rightful,
equal place in the universe. Why are people
dying here? This is my life, and your free
life too. Life, all life, is precious and equal.
This is the message I receive from interplanetary
beings...sacred, are we, and we know this
to be true, we the people will open the doors
to outer space, and take our rightful place.
No anonymous, faceless Corporation will
take my freedom......join me.
10/13/16
The Greasy Saddle Resturant and Night Club!
I blushed as I conceeded: she wished to name her nightclub "The Greasey Saddle". I had been seduced and fell into exhaustion from her nights of neocations. Al talks with her seemed to end as they began. Just like the music she had likened: or pretended to like she often critised most of the artist to whom she favored. I ate the cusie and tasted the drinks. I was lefted moved by her willingfulness to plan. She look to morning only as breakfast and every evening was capped off with a dessert. Sweetness in the tenderness of it's having. The fruits of the feilds were inspiration enough. The Greasy Saddle would exsist because the woman who wanted it gained the support of her shareholders. And it would truly exsist because the had enough history to story an Orcastra. Making The ballroom a place I wanted to be.Magnify the sheet music to see if the scriber's pen used cheaap ink. We needed to be critical of something!
The chicken wire would be tacked to the poles. A foot of space would be filled with burnt oyster sheell. The would pour cement walls over that to satisy the people who wish thick walls. We called the ballroom " The Red Earth" and the dressing area "Green Earth" Combined the Area would be refurred to as Oratorio Aer's ! The Concert area!