So, weren't you a reality show host?
Well, I thought I'd give it a try.
So, did everyone get their paychecks?
For Me! Those rules don't apply!
So, aren't felons prohibited from holding office?
To that, I won't even reply!
So, how will you adhere to the Constitution?
For Me! Those rules won't apply!
So, how do you feel about the "Good Book?"
He smirked with Hellfire in his eye!
I've never read it..besides,
For Me! Those rules never apply!
I am my father’s daughter —
quiet when it matters,
loud when it doesn’t,
loyal like a bruise that never fades.
He was a man of few words
and too many beers,
a homebody with calloused hands
who built his love from paychecks, plywood,
and patched fences.
He didn’t say much,
but he never let us go without.
We all worked with him —
held tools before toys,
learned to measure twice, cut once,
and use what we had
to make what we needed.
He handed me a hammer
like it was a promise.
Taught me how to build things
that wouldn’t fall apart.
And somehow,
that became a kind of love too.
He taught me the stillness of fishing —
how to listen for the pull,
how to wait without wanting too much.
He showed me rivers
the way some fathers show their daughters cathedrals.
And when I stand near water now,
he’s the first name that echoes back.
His anger could shake the walls,
but his lessons still hold:
Don’t waste. Don’t lie.
Always bait your own hook.
I used to sit
in the passenger seat of his silence,
learning how love doesn’t always speak,
but shows up every morning
with boots on
and something heavy in its hands.
There’s living a life, with the wind in your face..
Chasing the sun in a faraway place.
Hearts beating wild on a mountain’s high peak..
Finding the magic that most never seek.
And then there are those in the grip of the grind..
With dreams set aside and the clockwork in mind.
Paying off walls they barely call home..
Counting the days ‘til they’re free to roam.
They rise with the dawn, repeat and repeat..
Trading their time just to make ends meet.
A mortgage, a job, and a neatly cut lawn..
While the colours of youth quietly dawn.
Yet some break away, take a breath, take a chance..
They follow the music, they live in the dance.
They barter their comfort for stories to tell..
And live with the risk of not doing so well.
But who truly wins? Who’s better or right?
The one chasing wonder, or working through night?
Maybe the truth lies in moments we give..
In finding our own way of learning to live.
So whether you wander or walk the set track..
Make sure it’s your dream that’s carried on back.
For life isn’t measured by paychecks or fear..
But by who you became on your journey here.
BREAKING: [WEALTHY VENTURE CAPITALIST] BUYS
[PLOT OF LAND] FOR [INDUSTRIAL EXPANSION]
[CIGARETTES] AND [TYLENOL]
[TORNIQUETES] AND [ALCOHOL]
LOOPY DOOPY [LAUGHING GAS]
[COLORS] [FLAVORS] [SASSAFRAS]
FOR [FALSE SENSE OF FULFILLMENT], TRY
[ARTIFICIAL PRODUCT MARKETED TO MASSES]
[HOUSE FIRES] AND [CAR COLLISIONS]
[BURNING TIRES] [FIRST INCISION]
POKING AT YOUR [LUNGS] AND [HEART]
[PURVEYOR] TO SELL YOUR [PARTS]
[SELF MUTILATION] AND [SHEDDING SKIN]
IS ALL THE RAGE
[RUBBER HOSES] [PLASTIC GUMS]
[POWER DRILLS] AND [OIL DRUMS]
[SYNTHETIC SOLES] AND [FAT PAYCHECKS]
[POLYESTER] AND [LATEX]
LIMITED TIME SALE ON [INORGANIC BODY PARTS]
AND [FAKE IDENTITIES]
[PROSTHETICS] AND [FACTORIES]
[GASOLINE] AND [BATTERIES]
[CRACKS] AND [FISSURES] IN YOUR [SKIN]
DOUSED IN [DIRTY MEDICINE]
Disgruntled troops fall in line
when the head honcho appears
Long-time rebels go soft in the mouth
Seems they now value their paychecks
as they retreat to the womb
of a company experiencing a boom
Eons worth of work
with everlasting paychecks
then joy in the Sun
You stay mute, thinking you don't have a choice,
but silence is a form of compliance;
and change requires the power of your voice;
injustice must be met with defiance.
Your voice means something; it needs to be heard
when the lines between right and wrong get blurred,
and things go from distasteful to absurd.
Speak up when you perceive something isn't right,
exercise your rights, hold on to them tight;
step out of the shadows into the light.
Don't let greed run you down in a Rolls-Royce,
or paychecks turn hope into reliance;
though anonymity may be preferred,
there are times when one must speak truth to might.
These days it's tough being alive
Each day trying to survive
High prices are everywhere
Everyone living in fear
Paychecks not lasting for long
As your trying to be strong
Doing what's right to get by
To support family you try
To stretch out every dollar
But inside you scream and holler
Hoping costs go down again
Like they were way back when
No one had to choose between
Paying rent or food to eat
Thou mothers of daughters, I hope you can hear me say,
How blessed we are for the courage and strength that thou teach.
To be independent, to be encouraged to try new things.
Hear thee they moms, for it is you who teaches us.
To be the women of future years to come.
To stand up and speak and to be heard.
To be educated in any field.
To carry ourselves with strength and confidence.
For the women of today,
even stand beside thy men.
In battles like they never once could.
To earn paychecks to pay for their families to be fed.
Thank you thy moms.
For you believed in thee.
To carry on in life as once it never was.
To be a strong woman, to teach the way you did.
For women to go farther in life.
To gain confidence, courage and passion.
To be heard, to learn and most of all.
Be like you dear moms
Vlad Putin is counting the dead
As if they were soldiers of lead
No need to dwell on
As now they are gone
Vlad can cash their paychecks instead!
Time was a man took pride in earning his way
A hard days work for little pay
No complaints no sad songs to sing
Government didn’t owe him a God damn thing
Led his life from lessons learned
Never wanted what he hadn’t earned
Accepted all even at its worst
God and family always first
A different era from what we see today
A sense of pride, patriotic display
Life was for living, a breath of fresh air
Paycheck to paycheck, not a dime to spare
No class separation, no crying for more
All served their country at sea and on shore
Families supported, dads carried the load
Very small paychecks but they paid what they owed
We communicated like humans do, face to face
Meet after school at the usual place
A different era, a pride in our town
Play in the park until after sundown
Copyright (C) Vince Suzadail Jr. July 5, 2021
Creativity frightens the socks off my relatives
Art? Why would you waste your time?
Paychecks must be involved if something is of value.
They are missing the essence of life, if you ask me.
Under no circumstances will I try to convince them otherwise.
Reality is that I refuse to acknowledge any reality except my own.
Enthusiasm oozes out of me, for my confidence cannot be compromised.
True I love them, but I am thrilled I cannot be them.
Heaven is giving me ideas so fast, I can barely paint them up.
Effortlessly I toss down six paintings, or six poem, due to passion.
Excitement abounds when I follow my heart, my essence.
So many never experience life at all, I wish I could show them how.
Smothering me was an option, but my parents did not dare.
Even now I laugh at how they tried to conquer me a bit.
Needless to say, I am living my essence in spite of the others.
Creativity terrifies them, for they believe it to be a waste of time.
Every relative I know fears me, which makes me laugh.
I watched a sparrow go mad
Right in front of me
It charged a red bush like a bull to a matador
To build a spring nest in November
Head first through the air
It smashed into the branches
Shaking and breaking its tiny bones with fury
Weaving the straw of this insanity
Into something more familiar
Beneath its wings and hoofs
As the summer-like day cooked
The record books
They’re not telling the truth
On Fox News or across the AM dial
Or from the pulpit of Reddit and Energy
They’re just making money money money money money
Maintaining those ratings tithings and paychecks
Audiences waving their white hankies
Ole’ ole’ ole’!
The sheet is off the portrait
and the Dorian no longer gray –
it’s all about power, and greed
that’s on display –
little thought really of color
outside their mandate to
encourage greater divide –
more truth are in the shades
long steadily on the rise…
We are a blended society,
in our hearts and in our
deeds; though evil controls
the voices – most media
intent at causing injurious
stampedes – News abdicating
information for paychecks –
cashed while
innocence bleeds –
From K to 12 there is that bell
That goes off writing the word with the correct spell
Run youngster class is over now have some fun
When year fourteen rolls around
Higher education academic can be found
Where the lecturer can be heard chiming in, “I’m done”
“Go to the library the books will say welcome”
Sixteen years in total
Of Intelligent building exercises to put into the brain’s folder
All this, what to get a job?
When opportunity knocks and turns the knob
Actually it is preparing for life
And the contributions to society that at times combat strife
Learning is maturity
An investment that on the surface has its purity
Enjoy the time in the intellect’s hall
Then make this call
Interpret, ponder and question
Take away what you want from the lesson
In the real world
Of researching paychecks for pearls
That only ends up encountering a diamond that is real
The education decision will show that it was the right deal
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