Description, O my diatribe?
Stand before the court!
O comedians, with thy jibe!
Paragraphs to sort!
Where is hope on gallows hill?
Couldn't be real sure.
Yellow priestess, queen until?
Revelation tour.
Humble as a humbug?
Pride raises high the pain.
Dancers, rhythm! Cut a rug!
Doom is to disdain!
Death, thy destiny. Live free.
Placards of the plea.
O ye angels, come for tea!
Demons, how about ye?
Tyrant of deep waters?
Alliance Black Abyss.
Daughters, commit slaughters!
No one we will miss!
Rivers, needing rivets?
O lampreys, rub thy ribs.
Deadly are such divots!
Just nibble on the nibs!
Unify the endless hordes?
Bid them sharpen swords!
Watercress, thy water boards!
Mother Sin, thy gourds...
Centred around the trend of today's commentary-
Anything we say that doesn't fit into this
Narrative-your censored and
Condemned for your opinions-what
Ever happened to free speech? -are we just
Living in chains disguised as democracy?
Chants and placards suit the system of divide-
United we need to stand-but us humans are divided.
Today's society is
Unwell and the disease is spreading where the
Reflections of the past that doesn't fit inside today`s ideology is
Either censored or cancelled=erasing history!
In this country
Politicians line their pockets from back-door deals
Sports figures kneel with raised fist, and protest our flag
Hollywood celebrities exclaim they will leave our country
Silicon Valley tramples on free-speech norms
Corporate elites rig systems to transfer wealth
and live more royally than kings of yore, while
Children hunger
for food
for love
for protection from abuse
Where are the marchers,
the protesters with cardboard placards
funded by big money,
Declaring that these,
the youngest of us
have a right to a life?
That simply being born
is not enough?
Where are those God-fearing pickets?
Febrile Fog obfuscates palimpsest varnished promises..
Naysayers hoodwinked... deluded players peeling layers..denuded..
Deafening din of our chagrin...
Espoused by rabbles roused by mandarins’ sins..
Tarnished...pampered pilferers pickpocketing public purses...
Deploring the warring cacophony of citizens curses..
Ignoring the boring nagging nadir of nurses...
Corporate castles built without stilts on hourglass sands..
Placards versus lanyards..
Culprits preach parsimony from privileged pulpits..
Civic critics.. protests...pyrrhric..?
No tut tuts..relax…gluts of tax cuts for property sluts..
Licentious larcenists..lust for boom then bust..
Lavishly lacing our lives with lies..
Yet the more we holler...hanker..
Murky truths get darker...muckier.. starker..danker..
Avaricious arsonists torching our cries of why...
Leave us lolloping in a regret & forget.. leaking latrine...
Reeking of what could & should have been..
Wouldn’t it be nice…IF
The sun rose and shined on all
The moon smiled at sunset
The stars played hopscotch in the heavens
The universe exhaling in peace
Wouldn’t it be nice…IF
Those wearing RED hats
Extended a welcome
To those waving placards…
The hats removed
The placards laid aside
Wouldn’t it be nice…IF
THE POLITICIANS DID THE SAME
Charred in solace of your embrace
reminiscences engrossed as imprint
harboured in placards of your grace
A birth, a thousand with no squint
in winter's pure pour of snow
reminiscences engrossed as imprint
Giggling with nights glow
in waxes and treelights
in winter's pure pour of snow
One who ignites in delights
grining in fire and refuge
in waxes and treelights
A festivity of tunes and rouge
that twirls in vitality
grining in fire and refuge
Presents reciprocated in sib purity
charred in solace of your embrace
that twirls in vitality
harboured in placards of your grace
Wall posters
There is in a town, not far from here, a house with a tall wall a solid protector from prying eyes, the house has shuttered windows, which makes it a Mediterranean dwelling
The wall is a perfect place to put up posters of coming
attraction, when the stout opera lady is singing at the people's hall or when the circus is coming to town
Posters of different colors tell of a future promise that has come and gone.
There is a square with a cafe with tables and chairs that serves home-cooked meals at lunch, simple food with
tomato salad and wine served from big bottles with no labels, and when empty, can be filled again.
As for the posters on the wall, there have not been any new ones, lately people have computers and read the papers, well informed, what's left is an ignored piece of art.
I see fewer Gnomes
A variety of “flags”
Signs and placards
Letting me know
“whose lives matter”
There are a lot of “bunnies”
As they offend no one
My “lawn” has not seen fertilizer
In thirty years
It resembles a wild maned lion
The last “Madonna of the bath tub” shrine
Was removed by the new owners.
There are “cardboard” coyote’s
To keep the Geese and Turkeys away
A Buddha sits undisturbed
In a moonlit garden
I quit
I throw my hands down
and sit, sometimes
they called for reconciliation without
justice
They called for justice without
truth
Now they ask for prayer without
confession, umpteenth,
it chafes
Has dishonesty made you inadequate
to let go the desecration
infringement
negligence
graft
shame of these violations
which bake violence?
Yet another fifth year
our memo calls us to speak
See how they dance
under a canopy of placards
and a forest of words,
a crescendo of noise,
call for peace without unity
hunger hugs not a belching belly
wretchedness forever at
enmity with riches
Fellow man,
the weight been
long and heavy
Le band's gang led
they have a dance,
You got a date, a dicot
conscience, chagrin
It's about time you made
love to your country!
Take a big deep
cast your ballot for
broken toe nails
parched throats
unattended sick
the illiterate
the young dead
wrinkled bellies
and running stomachs
Bow not unto any creed,
tongue, but go forth
eyes closed
and spit into the storm
Puaaah!
Anti-abortionists never a dearth
Of carrying placards to harass;
As to the young child’s worth,
We must demonstrate in mass
Supporting life after the birth!
Written July 18, 2022
I tried to the stop the climate change
I tried to stop the war
I tried to stop addiction
From my spot on the tavern floor
I used to fight the good fight
I don't do that anymore
'cause I'm powerless
And god dammit, I'm proud
I used to have opinions
That were of a certain ilk
My arguments, all polished
My reasoning, smooth as silk
You can drink your quart of Kool-Aid
And call it chocolate milk –
Me I'm powerless,
And God damnit, I'm proud
We like to think
Like to think we know the score
Screaming from our windows:
I won't take it anymore!
With the subtlety of billboards
And logic, bottom-drawer
When deep inside, we know
We're full of bull at the core
I saw placards, I heard slogans
Spouting in the market square
In the exurb of a suburb
Of affluent Montclair
The banality of platitudes
Rises from one's derriere
So be powerless
And God damnit, be proud
The brighter colors are the first to go
as everything first fades to shades of grey
then eventually, to black or white.
Valid reasons come down to yes or no
then questioning to whom it is I pray;
while saying you are wrong and they are right.
Soon, the media put on their game show
feeding biased images day on day
to fan the flames of some unwanted fight.
The bleeding hearts come out with feelings faux
"We're on the side of right," they loudly bray.
Unless, of course, the mood swings overnight.
Soon, milling crowds with placards start to grow
authored, with many worthless things to say.
A self-backslapping, partying campsite.
Among this growing pile of bull guano
the ugly truth of war is cast away
unless it's in a big news anchor's sight.
placards (order sheets)
opids (labels)
pens (writing instruments)
forklift
pallet
zone (isle)
scan
lines
incentive
silk
soy
plain
strawberry
peach
blueberry
yogurt
yogurt
yogurt
First I heard the rotor blades,
Their noisiness supplanting
The birdsong taking traffic’s place;
Then I heard the chanting.
Peering out the window, I was
Shaken and surprised
To see crowds of people marching;
It was later televised.
Wearing masks and holding placards
They advanced with strong intent,
Linked by youth, resolve and passion
And united in dissent.
Would their peaceful protest shatter
Like the ones the night before
And might looting and destruction
Happen right outside my door?
I was pulled back to the 60’s
When we rallied seeking peace,
So defiant with our armbands,
Facing off against the police.
But this time, in my apartment,
Safe nine stories from the ground,
I looked down in disbelief,
My sadness sweeping and profound.
I am a simple middle aged common man,
I have some simple dreams,
I don’t care about your India shining,
Nor I care about your million dollar deals,
I wish a safe country for my daughter,
A life filled with love and peace,
I wish a country free of rapists,
And a street without moral police.
I want a change in society,
Where she won’t be judged by her clothes,
Where she can have boy friends,
Or do whatever she chose.
There is no point holding placards,
And mourn on things that can be avoided,
‘Coz they are useless for a father,
Whose loving child is already dead.
You will fight over religions,
And will play dirty politics,
While I’ll only have sweet sad memories,
Of the victim and the culprits.
I sincerely wish for a country,
Where my girl can follow her will,
Where she is treated like a human,
And not an object to rape and kill….
Date:09/07/2018
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