'Tis November,
Downpour!
The rain rained in torrents,
Potholes filled with flood,
Automobiles
Snailed their way to and from,
Our climate changed.
The wretched,
Made wretched
By corrupt officialdom,
Famished,
Drenched,
Huddled in makeshift shelters
Bemoaning their sorry state.
The flood transported
Lifeless bodies of street beggars
To the depths of big drains.
The sirens blared,
Indifferent state officials
Driven
To and from nowhere
By daredevil drivers.
My eyes stricken with grief,
My heart heavy with sadness,
Cascade of tears
From my grief stricken eyes.
Bureaucracy comes...
But it never seems to go
It brings along attached to it
Endless tales of woe
Copious piles of paperwork
(Mostly useless forms)
And calls that go unanswered
Are typically the norm
You quickly lose your rag
But you know there's no escape
What you need are giant scissors
To cut through that red tape
Petty, mindless officialdom
Drives you up the wall -
It's a bloody miracle
Anything gets done at all!
'Twas the night before tomorrow
And the morning after that.
Father Time passed by discretely,
Didn’t even tip his hat.
The calendars of bygone years
Stacked up to nothing much.
The women I’d been cozy with
Keep mostly out of touch.
Can’t measure by semesters
With a stale curriculum.
Can’t reckon by elections
And corrupt officialdom.
The priests of possibilities
Preach sermons on TV,
And offer their salvation
With extended warrantees.
Shameless conmen hawking snake oil
Rake in millions every year,
With quarantines and lockdown
On the omicron frontier.
Tried to tip toe past temptation
Couldn’t circumvent the booze.
All those Christmas decorations
Can’t disguise these solstice blues.
It is in the petty dribble of officialdom
the authoritarian contempt
snarls it’s canine hate of standardization
Vindictive in the files of paperwork
the red tape cold blooded ribbon
of your demoralisation
Faceless, emotionless
regurgitated institution
the implacable tax on being human
Each printed facet of a fascist regime
a suckling vampire at the breast of freedom
feeds an elitists greed
You are property
Ordered, dissuaded and indoctrinated
the glib maintenance
of the happily persecuted
By every difference so divided
to lose your sense of unity
and celebrate the abuse of humanity
And by threat, and fear, and legal debauchery
use it’s violence
to support your conformity
Such are the wiles of educational belligerence
the malicious criminals
of self importance
You are property
Enslaved to the masterminds of their own comfort
willing participants
to the gorging of parasites
They hate you
disgusted by your poverty
they disdain you
Deprived of your humanness
they use you
fill their bellies off of you
Faceless, emotionless
regurgitated institution
the implacable tax on being human
You are property
A fat grassland is neither a wasteland nor a heather mountain. It is wise to twirl a large ink dotted feather flock to the sky uniformed but not adhering to dress codes of societal norm. When norms are very nautical nowadays and can disappear and disparate under a cotton candy dream boat on a cruise to the sands. It is nevertheless an unforgettable view constructed by fashioning cheese on one slice of bread. This will surely ensure that bean is comfortable. But bringing banging blackness is not wise in front of a large herd of officialdom as curriculum based language leaving is a learning leaning laugh. And now it is time mr lobster face to vacate these premises. For there are no vacancies for tide is not moving and there is now no waves. Due to incorrect malnutrition placed by curtailing cartwheeling faces that drawl out words akin to a squeaky rifle that is being polished to a tune. No ha ha no x and no z either. That was the p y q reporting from an earwig tantrum zone with lots of earwigs dressed in attire more suited to a war. Bmnbmnbmn. |
Antidote of officialdom dew. Wow. Amazing. Little the latter and a speckled view answers. Hath he had been. No curds
hahahaha and now they were in a meeting
gone gone gone. Good. Hahahaha and a sw pop round. Hahahaha and now the wooden spoon and the other day and night is good with the omitted results included in. Hahahaha zzzxx culmination creating crests! Rather fascinating it is. *** hahahaha
A dish issue is whether the verb forms a series of events containing two or three ingredients. Ingredients are often officially interesting when placed. And material such as Velcro is very very useful when balancing on a widespread bed of crockery. Well cook then. Worldy worldwide without waste. And a hare is never a problem when hopping through an abyss. Calibres of officialdom. Wow. No problem at a beach house and home and away for the weekend is fine but the other side of the United Methodist Church is the name of the first place of worship. Oh dare one meet a jackdaw in a cardboard car. Or a ministerial monkey. Holidaying hopping hippies have havens. And bend not over a crevasse as dangers stem from rock. And blades spawn from spacial secrets. Secretary then. A portly lady humming. Hahahaha and now a salty dew. Hahahaha and an additional android arguing. Hahahaha dare to swim with the dog. *** multiplication z
Seventy two millimetres of giant oink isn't a mild fashion statement. It is a hook and curve with two crevasses. A creche in a canyon jump is a dramatic effort of tree construction. A limpet lump can bring much luck to a tulip who smiles in a breezy field. Whilst free forming a piece of pie is mostly equivalent to a large vibrating fridge freezer whose legs whirl in a tinted air of colony. Oh look a basting vest. Vehicular movements. Peak of a partridge beak. Yellow yachtsman yapping yeast. Directional orbital flow. Flights of officialdom. Narrowed in broths. Fashion a fish favourably as it is driving a lorry. *** ha and eat 600 portions of porridge with one hand and electric toast with your foot. *** hahahaha *** manifestation ***
"The budget should be balanced, the Treasury should be refilled, public debt should be reduced, the arrogance of officialdom should be tempered and controlled, and the assistance to foreign lands should be curtailed lest Rome become bankrupt. People must again learn to work instead of living on public assistance." Cicero , 55 BC
controversy over government nothing new
Civil War? oxymoron
in a country divided, there is no civility
protestors fume on Wall Street
Tea Partiers toss their caffeine into the mix
Federal Reserve makes unauthorized loans
but to whom we do not know
states debate seceding from the union
families learn to live on budgets
countries spend what they don’t have
why don’t we learn from history?
“Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s”
is there anything left for us?
look to Cicero and sages of the past
Plato and Socrates will set the disenfranchised straight too
*Entry for Brian’s “Anywhichway” contest
An hour ago
At the embassy
Fleets of steels sighing
Protracted protocols prying
Exodus of seekers of greener pastures murmuring
Hanging hangars rusting and resting
Busy bees bullying deterioration
Officials posses with officialdom
Cabs crowing
Heads heavy with thoughts
Eyes lacerated with tears
Wives in sack-cloths
Sympathizers gulped down dry gins
As the blue bird landed from the air,
The remnant of his remains
Descended from above
Musa,
Butchered in the street of London
Awoh Awoh
Sylvia I was christened
And for sixteen years it suited fine.
It was then I started working
Where another had this name of mine.
"To avoid confusion"some bright spark said
"Why not call the original(fifty year old)Sylvia by her name
And the new one junior instead"
Well I was most indignant,teenage ego crushed.
I wasn't going to have this at all.
So I reached a compromise shortened it toJune
And only responded to this call.
From then on to everyone even future spouse
I introduced myself by this name.
Sylvia in personal life slipped away.
But for officialdom it remained the same....
I penned this to avoid a build up of confusion
And to protect this poet's sanity.
Please super Soup friends call me June.
When you write Sylvia my mind asks 'who is she'?