Long Subsidies Poems
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III.
Then there is their favorite target,
the faceless foe they call ‘the rich,’
who they claim keep everyone down,
the academics so love to .
They sat they get rich off our backs,
but they’re not talking subsidies,
they seem to think those people’s wealth
was stolen…it seems strange to me.
What did Elon Musk take from me
to be able to fly the stars?
What did Henry Ford steal from me
that let him manufacture cars?
If anything I most likely
would go impose myself on them,
to try and get myself a job
at the companies built by these men.
Do professors think that labor
is something that rich people steal?
It’s not, in fact it’s a contract,
both sides must agree to the deal.
The millions that some folk possess
certainly aren’t coming off my back,
to get paid we must create wealth,
salary is a portion of that.
If a man can create millions,
which is certainly more than me,
why does that mean I must hate him?
That sounds like simple jealousy.
But then again, these professors
all like to proclaim they're socialist,
with tenured jobs safe from markets…
The only place such thoughts can exist.
Ideology can blind a soul
to simple facts all folks once knew,
you are not poor because they’re rich,
your professors are lying to you.
I know all,
Even when I was not born;
My teacher told me more,
On the journey of my Land
First day of October,
Yes! My teacher said it's 1960;
Till then,
We were not matured to own our land.
Our nobles raised a beacon of hope,
Shinning with power of justice;
The white were choiceless,
Only to allow us to bear our name.
The kaakis came in 66,
Against the bridge connecting two sides,
Many bloods soaked the ground,
On 'I want to lead'.
'Ali must go!"
Was the raised fist of 78
As 50kobo increment of tuition fee
Came to turn the sky to earth.
Like a bolt of lightning,
79 came suddenly,
Giving power to a pacifist,
But left swiftly to martials
The ho-o-o-o-ho-o of ANTI- SAP,
Covered the world in 89;
Our income could not save us,
We were in cancer cell.
We totally accepted
We were in a sinking ship,
When our figure was manipulated in 93,
Our choice was denied
The snake came with mask figure,
At least we were given Democracy in 99;
But later,
It turned to rotten apple.
Do you remember 2012 removed subsidies?
It was selling #140,
While now is #630.
2017 encountered EndSARS,
Hence, talent were truncated,
Like a story left unfinished
Until it's off in 2020.
Although I was a boy,
When I could not identify the wrong and right;
My teacher told me,
Democracy upgraded corruption.
My country is the best country,
That's in printing new notes,
See how 2023 notes
Have circulated before June.
I know one day,
October 1st will see our pain;
Its flag will fly with joy
And the pledge will go with pride.
I walked on Cedar lane where estates used to be
Until taxes on each acre made their residents flee
The views of the Hudson are still grand
But it makes financial sense to subdivide the land.
Young couples skip the wedding vows though they feel love within,
Benefits reward the single life; the married seldom win.
There are homes with narrow fronts, the reason, if you ask
Was that the width of the home was criteria to tax.
In my county middle earners were the rule
But taxes rose, for pensions and for school
So they moved many miles to reduce their tax rate
or made the jump to go completely out of state.
It’s easy to condemn a crook who breaks the law for cash,
But did you pay your contractor “off the books” to save a stash?
And who are those guys he hired, English they speak not
He'll claim he didn't pick them up at a big box parking lot.
Taxes distort all sorts of behavior
But I have an idea that can be our savior.
Eliminate all taxation
Print money instead, save the nation!
I know this proposal could cause consternation
But think, no accountants, no weeks of preparation.
No IRS, less smuggling, less incentives to cheat:
More business formation and a better balance sheet.
If you keep cash under your mattress, its a dumb caper
In a few years it might be usable as wallpaper.
What we do doesn't work, look at the national debt.
Investing in the USA is not a long term bet.
Feds printing money might also lead to inflation
But the new April 15 could be a cause of celebration
Farmers could hand down the family farm
Without handing death taxes to the Fed's long arm.
"Death and taxes” may endure no matter what we do:
For governments find backdoor fees when old revenues fall through.
Still, I can dream, can I not?
Of an opportune rainbow, and an economy that's hot.
He was a salty old guy, a farmer for years.
He had a tractor, a trailer, a cow with big ears.
His wife was the salt of the earth, a woman with thighs.
That could crush a combine; they had their lows and their highs.
There was salt on the table; on the popcorn too.
Which they had nightly, watching TV in the dark, a blue hue.
They rose rather early, five o’clock was too late.
Four o’clock was much better for the cow’s full teat state.
They produced corn in their field every other year or two.
Got government subsidies some years to not do what they do.
He was a salty old guy with a family farm he’d inherited.
His wife was one of those red-headed girls down from village of Merrited.
They had six sons and four daughters, for it was the forties you see.
When the dustbowl was happening, and there was scarcity.
On their table they always had potatoes, meat and corn with salt.
Once or twice a year they’d take the kids into town for a chocolate malt.
The kids all wanted to grow up and be farmers too.
Some did of course, but there was only enough land for a few.
Some became teachers, and some became other stuff.
But salt was a staple for all of them, sure enough.
In all things, give thanks.
Surrounded,
overwhelmed by disassociating depression,
learn gratitude.
Gratitude, a sacred noun,
positive attitude, a secular verb phrase.
Depression and gratitude,
depressed impress.
Impossibly essential
potential.
Suppression and hope.
Hope in and through
blind and deaf as faith,
senseless passion dispowering position
over doubling down negative consequences
co-arising dissonant experience
with resonant resolutions.
Repressing naked clarity,
dualdark yet light-squared
and cubed
in fractal dialects
of holy, trauma,
sacred enslavement,
immortal despair.
Desecrated Earth
by commodified inhumanity,
capitalized corporate stricture,
giving thanks
for dawn's promised dusk.
Within,
above,
below all,
giving thanks without receiving praise,
re-acclimating gratitude,
humbling attitude.
Great commissions,
emissions,
omissions;
elevating attitudes
descending through our past.
Elevators rise to fall to rise
within great and small
freedoms of commission.
Paradise fulfills embryonic passion
as pleasure grows roots in healthcare faith
emerging from fragile hope,
contagious absence of distrust's despair.
Desperation limns failed aspirations
lacking pathological denial,
returning Earth's holistic trust
with humanity's mistrust,
light squared lust
disturbing dualistic darkness.
Energy's massive capital,
our degenerating god
of depressing idolatry.
Craven subsidies
defy investments in future health
of divestments from past pathologies.
Information capitalizes derivatives of energy,
as exformation departs from pregnant entropy.
Great commissions
of gratifying robust relationships
grow from small omissions
of history's dissonant mistrust.
In all trusted passions
and distrusted pains,
give thanks.
King James Bible. New Testament. Revelation 6:1
"Now I saw when the Lamb opened one of the seals; and I heard one of the four living
creatures saying with a voice like thunder, 'Come and see.'"
I awoke to the sound of thunder crashing in my head. There is a faint mumbling
in the background of a violent rumbling. A whisper, now growing louder as the sound
embedded in my head is traveling deeper and deeper into my body. The sound
vibrating through my bones and radiating out of my body, such that I levitate and
ascend through the ceiling into the clouds above. I hear the voice and it's becoming
clearer to understand "Come... " the whisper was soft and gave me a chill that crept
down my spine. Passing through a cloud I was now in a marble stone hall that
stretched as long as Heaven it seems. Before me stands a golden alter "... See." the
voice bouncing in my head like thunder; a flash of light and twelve chairs appear
floating on each side of the golden alter. As fast as they appeared, they vanish in a
cloak of light. In the distance of heaven I hear the screeching screams of a Lamb being
slaughtered... then again the twenty four chairs appeared with four creatures standing
without shadows. Like a flash of lighting the images come and go. A Silence falls upon
Heaven while an eerie presence lingers along with the music of faint chords being
plucked. The music and the suspense subsidies; the voice, this time coming from the
creatures "Come..." I am content to obey. I walked towards to the creatures; they all
are winged hybrid animals covered in eyes. Some eyes looked frantic as if they where
screaming out in pain; Some where crying, others looked right at me never relaxing
their stare. " Come and See." and in his eyes I'd seen the fall of man, the end of all
days, there was a dimming light after flames enveloped the earth... I then was awake
lying on me bed, this is too vivid to have been a dream. Did I make it all up or was I in
Heaven as it seems?
Government voodoo policies
that fan the fangs of poverty
to forecast economic growth
Are yet unimaginable
Like one should go to hell to burn
And be there to dream of heaven
Is the government renewed hope
For its citizens doomed to hades
Citizens in misery lament
For a government of change
To bring that change that could not change
Their ill economic fortune
And in feigned triumphal entry
to aso ville, the rulers
Always hatched policies
Against overburdened citizens
Rather than expand production
reduce cost of goods and service
They ban subsidies, increase tax
Devalue the poor currency
Only to bask in extravagance
Against the rising tide of debt
And austerity drowning in
The masses in vanishing hope!
By day the quarrymen
The music band understand
6 long month's they must wait
till their next recording session
They won't play the ashes all summer
In the winter garden
With the shed at the bottom
Until the snow subsidies again
So pack away the grand piano
Bass drum
Guitars
And clarinet
Time to reflect
And begin writing
A new album
New song's for a new dawn
Once the shed is brought to life again
Music rising from the rafters
Instruments in backbeat unison
Singing and playing
We haven't seen the ashes all summer
The musical shed is back in business
Back to Liverpool again
The home of working class
Musical theater
Tell them we are working hard
They will soon afford to buy rice
Show them our graphic evidence
Of rice pyramids. We are self-sufficient.
When they complain of hardship
Give them rice!
When there is rising unemployment
Add some more rice, I say
There's plenty of cassava too to eat.
If they plan to protest
And the workers want to strike
Pacify them with mudus of rice, right away
I know my people, they will shelve it.
All subsidies are gone forever
Taxes all around have come to stay
And when those rabble begin to grumble
Let the Custom open their stores
Of foreign rice to them. It tastes good!
My people are understanding
I have instructed them to tighten their belts
But if they questioned my extravagance
Give them state-sponsored rice
Sold at a subsidized rate.
Let them know we are truly empathic.
Not our fault about climate change
God knows why! We inherited banditry
Herders-farmers' clash, from our predecessors
But be assured when disaster strikes
Our response shall be swift
To distribute rice in camps of the IDPs!
To My Rulers
My dear Rulers of our public
Help us to come up in our lives
Please put off yourself growth for a decade
To build my nation strong and mighty
It is enough to your family and to your successors
My Poor brothers have to live at least in a hut
Stop your decorations to your palaces
That will do develop our nation as mighty
We cast our votes on a good faith
You will pave at least a muddy path
Stop Your nasty draining of rivers and soil
Leave the lakes and ponds
To my people drink and to cultivate food
Leave our faith on democracy
Not to exploit and make it money
Not to make us lazy dogs and
leave us to work and live
Vanish the word Free and subsidies
From our lives and day today dictionaries
To live as royal citizens of this nation