Mob mentality
is sweeping the U. S. A.
is this the last day’s?
Paddy was a hit man
for the Irish Mob
hired to be slick
and do a whack job
but he didn't have the knack
or know the trick
without being caught
and put in the nick
behind bars
but not the sort one might think
where a few jars
may be bought and he did so love a drink
more than one too many
was his undoing
the cause of all
the troubles brewing
and with only one hit
it's really no wonder
he was fired from the gang
for a drunken blunder
as he couldn't quit the whiskey
be it bottle or a flagon
and ended up inside
not on the wagon
Savaging what he has left
after the mafia takes his last
bowl of soup his last slice of
bread his last cup of coffee
the mob boss then gives the
bum a cigarette and a light
pats him on the shoulder
tells him to keep warm its
cold out here drives off
the mob boss then douubles
back around and ask the bum
for change for the parking
meter the bum reaches in
his pocket with worn finger tips
torn gloves and give the
mob boss his last dime
and says take it that's it
that's all I have the mob boss
scratches his head and says
are you sure this is your
last dime the bum replies
yes I'm sure take it you need
it way more than me now stunod
stumps I’m your new Boss Bum
now do you got any change
Everyone wants to be in a flash mob
This statement came from my strange neighbor Bob
I don’t, I said, and neither does my cousin Rob
We do! Said a scarecrow, a rake and a corn cob
All aboard the bizarre Farage barge..
Unless of course you are from abroad..
.
Narcissist catalyst.. old school fraud..discord twist..
Can't resist.. staging the raging red mist..
Fist of Mob rule tryst does persist..
Depraved raves..insist..craved faves..
Won't save slaves & knaves..
Hellbent they are sent..
To graves under the waves…
Foolish votes for ghoulish gloats..
Seedier media leaders lying..
Defying the dying..
Folks crying..ghastly ghostly boats..
Crude jokes delude..lewd masterstrokes denude..
Corporate rascal castle debacle floats..
On dank murky murderous moats..
Scuffles.. muffles ruffles & kerfuffles
Pokes & provokes just for bank notes..
The ubiquity of inequity
This poem or tome..
Every face…race should be.
Free to roam..
In this place..
We all call home..
Crowds of irritated people joined the mob
Anger and violence, a volunteer non-job
Breaking windows and kicking in storm doors
Frustration lurking at their cores
Some were unsure why they were even there
One of them picked up an office chair
Loud cheer went up as he flung it into the air
Now a thug and felon, to be quite fair.
Exploding transformers on the street,
flash mob;
Unable to see they move so fast,
frenzied;
Left licking senses buried in sweat,
spun out;
Synchronized for streamlined destruction
all night;
City streets cuffed and in their control
‘til dawn.
RamaRajya, Mahatma Gandhi’s non-violent utopia of mutual tolerance, has no place for bigots who lynch and leech the Weak.
Lynch my body
Pinch my soul
Punch my pride
Drench my blood
Staunch be your henchmen
Bunch of bigoted hooligans
Flinch us they from progress
Wrench us they from justice
Exhaust every trick in your bag
Pull every arrow off your quiver
Bribe your cheerleaders forever
Swing your dagger far and deeper
Behold! Destiny’s Wheel will one day turn
In your own inferno shall you burn
Hate will then find no buyers
Fade shall every Fake Soothsayers
Rama’s Rajya will then re-assign
Love and equality will re-reign
Unity and Diversity will re-align
Tolerance will do India define
***
(From the anthology, Mantra of the Oppressed, available on Amazon.)
To the mobs,
Let us be resolute!
IQ not withstanding,
Never quite know where we are landing!
Destruction of property,
This is a lottery!
Who will lose,
Depends on the booze!
Continuous calls for violence,
Has resulted in scheduled posts of media hosts!
Acceptance of mob rule,
Depends on where you go to school!
Hither and yon,
The mobs will join,
Until everything is burnt to the ground!
Then we'll speak,
The ones that turned away.
Why didn't we stop the mobs today?
animal control in the form of two men were shutting down the beach
There was a cougar watching from a giant rock, they wanted people safe
Many of the beachcombers ran toward the rock with cell phones
Wanting to take a “selfie” with the cougar
Did they think there was safety in numbers?
If one jumped out of an airplane without a chute would they have all done it?
The game wardens looked at each other, wondering what was happening/
Had common sense been replaced by mob mentality?
The cougar showed his teeth, and growled.
Delighting the idiotic crowd of onlookers.
Some were dumb enough to clap.
Incensing him.
In the shadows of a distant village,
By the light of a Crescent Moon.
With death in the air, vigilantes swear,
That vengeance will be coming soon.
With hate filled hearts and eyes of fire,
They all gathered as a ship of fools.
They knelt to pray, had little to say,
Only the doctrine that the mob rules.
The crime on the docket was read,
The murder of the preacher's son.
Like a pack of hounds, they made their rounds;
And the search of a suspect begun.
Their madness had grown to a frenzy,
So uncaring of wrong or right.
Now covered in sin, the verdict was in,
Someone's blood would be spilled tonight.
For most of the evening they sifted,
Through every nook and cranny in town.
Not sensing danger, a passing stranger,
Was the one they chose to put down.
He was carried and tied to a tree,
They all laughed as he begged and pleaded.
Beaten and battered, nothing else mattered,
But to seek the justice they needed.
Repeating the most medieval ways,
Their methods and deeds were unsound.
But to no surprise as the sun would rise,
An innocent man would lie on the ground.
When he was Infant Bob
Often had had to sob
For a freely shared cob…
As Grown-Up Wrangling Bob
Angrily yanked off knob
After a half paid job…
Now Climaxed Adult Bob
Would at friends spit a gob,
Each time he missed a mob
That folks attacked to rob,
The lot shutting their gob,
Since they’d dared forget Bob…
Same Bob at each level
His one guide: The Devil.
The act his men did condemn
No exception: all of them;
Twelve thousand in his pockets,
Eyes causing to leave sockets,
His cheeks ripening for slaps,
Ears for women's shaming claps;
A union's contribution
For daily distribution...
Had meant it as a surprise,
Twelve and Low Account should rise;
He'll argue it "No idea!"
With benign smiles mask real fear...
New seen Mafia films on jobs
That leave behind irate mobs;
Hancock trying to be smart
Ends up jolting Trusting Heart.
Cut and pasted it to poetrysoup.com
so I could send you a poem. You can
do same with your poems and send
them to:
jthorn5656@atmc.net jthorn5656@gmail.com
we learned how to lift
spirits from sin and from shift
overcame all rifts
we started to sob
when overtaken by mob
who will kill and rob
in the flowing flood
things were covered by much mud
flowers with a bud
God will always bless
help me straighten out mess
did remove all stress
It is easier to write poetry and
concentrate on it via Poetry Soup
and FaceBook rather than via
Virtual Zoom. I have difficulty
understanding what the person
is reading. If they would cut
and paste poem to Chat section
of Virtual/Zoom screen, this
would help. This is the best
way to do it.
James Horn
RiverSea Plantation
Bolivia, NC
Will put website address of this
on FaceBook.
Been watching Flash Mobs on TV lately
Not the popular dance routines
But particularly those with classical themes
In an orchestral format
Familiar pieces that are known to all
By world renowned composers
A joy to behold by those fortunate few
Who just happen to be passing by at the time
Amazing how many are enthralled
By such brilliant displays
Performed by so many talented musicians
Bringing tears to the eyes of a few
Who are touched
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