Short Commodities Poems

Absolute freedom is the rarest of commodities that only God may enjoy!







© Demetrios Trifiatis
      27 October 2018...

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This life today,
just aspires positions,
breathe credit cards
and electronic transfers,
promises of debts and purchases,
debts and arrangements...
commodities and titles...
the fantasy is over
since they eliminated
the joy, when they expelled
bar customers... !...

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we always thought
Jasper’s occupation was clandestine
He works in Chicago and Miamai
where gangsters work, right?
So is he a mobster?
He dresses like one, all in black.
We dared not ask him what he did for a living.
Having no idea he was in commodities
Legal gambling for the affluent....

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Commodities.
Packed up
Wedged together
Shut out from light and air, 
Little creatures indifferent to life or death
Stacked.
Branded.
Horrified
Of what comes
With the open door.
Looking for the first opportunity
To Leap
Escape
This intolerable life.
The Mass grave
Of a two-dimensional reality....

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If only you could see that we
are not so far removed
from the men who stood beside
High Horses.

And bales of hay,
and especially cotton.

Fleeting herds and commodities
on societies take a toll.

Old times should never be forgotten,
but remembered as a lesson.

Or history has no soul....

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44. 
Personality commodities
Melting into bar stools
Progress beyond God
to make the ultimate partnership.

Profits will come less belligerently 
When lovers sing praises in lilted voices.
off tune liquors pour needlessly
down the throats of the well fed.
Meager brotherhood looked at me 
With a dirty f...

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We view time as a precious commodity and will rush into something before taking care of yourselves. But if we viewed ourselves as precious commodities and time as a tool in which to pour more preciousness in, we would stop spending ourselves to the point of brokenness. Time isn't money. You are the currency. Spend wisely....

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I received a golden hello
But nothing of banking I know

On commodities, the future I bet
For large bonuses each year,to net

Too soon the 'bubble' has burst
Of course,everyone else,has come off worse

But I do not reap what I sow 
They gave me parachute payout & pension to go

Global finances,crash into debt
Yet still I have no regrets  ...(yet !)...

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hallucinogens of the unsound mind
anesthetic figures state their somber positions
the commodities of their mirthless smiles reast unconfined
i'm writhing from their false amorous animations

i romance with death dancing in the winter lights 
in malevolence i sing my sorrow.  prying it will end
trying not to impede the unhappy yet happy ones rights
i freeze a smile upon my face to be with the fashioned wind...

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It is a raw material 
And it is part of the natural resources 
A creation 
It is a fertile land
And it is part of the world
A planet
The commodities 

The sweetness of the tongue 
Taste like caramel 
Breath taking 
The playfulness of the words
Sounds like birds
Speechless 
The poem,

It is a commodity 
And it is part of the ingredients 
A sequence 
It is a treasure 
And it is part of the planet
A universe
The products...

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The blaring, deafening diesel
Horn warned its imminent approach
To the major intersection
Of town with four cacophonies:
Each longer than the preceding
One as its screeching wheels clamored
Across the unevenly seamed
Cold tracks causing each set of wheels
To rhythmically sound their unique
Click-clack beat as the weathered cars
Swayed side to side in a seeming
Endless queue of commodities.
Far off in the distance is heard
The faint four as it rolled westward....

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The wise have left us ambiguity
In their hope for our prosperity
We dig deeper for golden opportunities
Bit higher for price commodities

Politicise human suffering and poverty
But tomorrow is still a mystery
Everything’s moving faster, must be instant
We’re more connected, but grow ever more distant

In our speeches we quote the dead
We raise them to make ourselves heard
They turn in their graves at our disingenuity
Because ultimately we are haunted by our history...

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Conjoined,
(Age & Depression) 
Written: by Tom Wright
January 2015

My Golden years are tarnished,
Fact is, they now resemble rust.
Now most daily conversations, 
Wear an argumentative crust. 

I’m plagued by numerous issues,
Virtually all related to health.
As personal desires go unmet,
Commodities steal my wealth.

Age has left me with no options,
My good times rest in my past.
Seems I’m biding time awaiting
The day to be counted my last;
...

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