Short Manufacturing Poems

They say manufacturing is gone from our nation.
They even point to the direction it went,
but they're wrong, manufacturing is strong,
we lead the world in manufactured consent....

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What are we doing to our planet? 
Processing oils, 
pumping air with oxides;
be them sulphur, 
or nitrogen gas.
Burning coals,
manufacturing chemicals.
Making acid rain -
burning our -
dumb ass!...

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Wafting on the morning breeze,
During manufacturing
Our whole town enjoyed the scent.
Maxwell House Coffee.

Freshness permeating air.
Aroma percolating.
Infusing memories of…
Grandma’s coffee pot.

June 3, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnen...

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Who am I?
Time will not answer,
Nor, other.
Perhaps my existence,
Does not exist.
Who am I?
The reverse side of the world.
Manufacturing production of God
Or a cosmic joke?
What will become of me
When crossing the bridge?
Doubts are like wires,
That twist in the soul.
There is no end, no beginning.
Yes, there is a tangle,
Which we call life....

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The perverse acceptance of dehumanization
coincides with the illusion of vulnerability
Degradation underlies the prolonged process
systematically re-wiring a once skeptical public


Manufacturing receptiveness to a diminished existence
is the prevailing goal
The need for coercion dissipates as resistance vanishes
Turning imprisonment into an implied circumstance...

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I am a terrorizer
Captivating up the bullets
You had
Manufacturing a breathing going mad

I am who-does-he-think-
He-is-?!
An impulsive mist
Sweltering up a storming fist	

I craft up the laws
Uncontrolled
Inhuman, Medieval
Unwanted, furios

I am furious at
Those bullies,
Bullied me
Till the depth of my soul unseen

I  was what mattered
I am what i would have never been
For those who bullied
Me...

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Rain falls
and we fall in love
rain brings calmness
And allows love to reign 

Rain speaks 
and we communicate
rain brings comfort
and sings us a lullaby while we sleep

Rain cleans the muddy heart 
Sweet words create a fountain 
A fountain of love that flow 
Through the livers of affection 

The air is so cool 
The body needs to warm up 
Make some baby Rain says 
will cover up the sounds of the manufacturing industry....

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Miner's out on Strike
No Coal to fuel the home fires
Or plumes of Industry 
Outside the Picket gate's 
The Miner's stood 

Egged on by Militant Union leaders
Selling the deception of better pay
That would not see the light of day
They waited for

That what which was not to come
They had met there Waterloo 
The future was mass consumerism 
On a global scale

Manufacturing and Mining 
Had seen its day in the Sun
The 1990 had begun...

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Love is only weapon against 
Any type of hate.

Revenge is not the permanent solution 
Against hate.

We are manufacturing weapons to kill 
Our bodies.

Souls want to be free from our bodies.

We forgot the message of Super soul,
Love for love.

Situation is out of control.

Our children live into fire.
We are sleeping with sleeping pills.

The poet writes the poem of stone era at midnight....

SANDIP GOSWAMI, INDIA...

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Magnifying is your sight,
filtering your destination.
It’s odyssey to the legs
but you walked it with your gaze.
No more too long a distance
is thousands of miles away.
Your adorable gaze beckons
to the elements you require
for manufacturing words.
To your disposal they hasten.
Literary dexterity:
your alluring criterion!
It behoves me to tell you
to behold what beckons you—
it’s the quarter-gate of the sage!
You are welcome here, darling....

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I saw, and I loved a beam of mixture:
sorrow and presice love, 
to those capturing brown crystals.
My voice, an echo central,
Of wings manufacturing blocks of diamonds.
Fainting over the sorrows webs.
Covered in shadows of caress.
We Slept and wept tears of sweat.
We slept, the night grew silent... a local caress.
Kissing, touching lips with open stampede.
We slept for centuries in your casket.
We slept, as we made flags of elevation on the moon light gleaming....

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How broad can bald eagle 
spread wings?
Over Gag and Magog,
to the east,
and the place of morning calm

When she is molting
a spot is unclothed,
New Orleans
in the south
Red China swelling in Asia
with great sway

An occult war
manufacturing frivolity 
Mind control, 
weapons of mass destruction;
a birthday gift 
placed in gullible palms

Buttons are pushed 
away from books 
and noisy playgrounds
Slaves to the control,
mind control
Tomorrow’s men
are made in China...

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