The Tariffs
here we go again, in a strong country where most workers are not unionized, but the rich are and the working class has to pay for the wealthy’s expenses, this time in the form of tariffs those who have the business of production can reduce the local market’s cost, but they will not instead, they will jack up their prices because we live in a free society where the lower order has little influence to demand better pay
There will be demonstrations against hard times, the strikers will be vilified as enemies of freedom, thrown into jail on fake charges, and called renegades, and the press will tell us they are betrayers of the American way
Yes, we have seen this before in other countries in another time, but the outcome is always more poverty, when the people are subdued and real freedom fighters are shot on the streets or, on the tabernacle of progress, peace bitter peace will ensue until the state collapses into a civil war
Ponytails
Swishing madly,
Hurdling across the pitch.
Beads of sweat
Spraying in spirals
As fingers point,
Shouting directions
To strikers, wingers, and defensemen.
Defensewomen, really.
Get back!
Push it!
Don't lose form!
Take the shot!
Grazing past the clown gloves.
Concaving the thick nylon.
Back of the net glory!
Now run around like giddy school girls
For exactly 8 seconds.
Now mark your man!
Woman, really.
No whiners here.
No floppers allowed.
What's this look like,
Men's soccer? Pansies.
The beautiful game is proof that
The real soccer men
Are women.
The real mind-blowing tournament,
Her football cups prized ornament;
Leaving without one eyes hollow,
Avid fans cease to squad follow...
Tough strikers playing out their hearts
Defenders halting ball that darts:
It's about luck but chiefly skill,
During practice better self kill!
Player free to display sweet role,
But dismissed as freak,no scored goal
How dare you miss a penalty
When what's at stake no novelty?
FIFA justifies earned dollars:
Blameless final whistle colours;
Out to make it competition
With ears for the right petition
Hosting it image-defining,
The stadium chosen keeps shining;
Sure,does raise an economy
Like would sound agronomy...
I learnt:Big budget in Brazil
For round leather retaining zeal.
Alabaster annoyance
Blatantly breathes bulbous brightness
Cadaverous comedy caring
Daintily during delicate delivery
Exciting elderly enigma.
Furious fiery feeler
Gregariously greets
High-handed hustler
Ignoring imaginative immediates
Jauntily jeering judiciously.
Kangaroo kisses kibitzes
Leaving luxurious loners
Merrily masticating mincemeat.
Never-do-wells needing knowledge
Ostentatiously officiate on orange orangutans.
Precariously polite Pomeranians
Quietly quiz querulous quoters
Reposing rapidly ruining
Still sassy strenuous strikers
Turning toward Tuesday tournaments.
Understandably unprecedented underlings
Vindicate vicious vagrants
While wishing waxy widows would
‘xpect ‘xciting ‘xacting ‘xtras.
Youngish yellow yowls yipping
Zipping zany zebras’ zealous zero zone.
CRAZE DURING FOOTBALL GAME
Up yellows; greens; reds and blue,
tell me! Tell me, who is through?
Passes. Crosses. Headers. Shots.
Volleys, blasters, more scissor kicks
tell me! Tell me, whose on the spot!
Ninety minutes with some overtime
eleven players playing in the field
each one targets to be World Champ!
The strikers and defenders immense
so are Audience claps, dance, rants!
Dripping sweat from turning, running
Tension rising! Twists are rocketing!
Audience wriggling, nonstop cheering!
Thriller, action, comedy plus tragedy,
Oh all are drawn by its classic drama.
Perplex hard attacks, clever corners
rise from a penalty or free kick yell!
Elicits an alarm to goalie keepers' eye
He in eagle's arms and kangaroo leap
Tell me! Tell me, has one scored a goal?
Around the globe, fellas or gents in craze,
amazed and tantalized by Football game!
_________________________________________________
Written 6th of July, 2018 @ 10:46am
Fate placed me here in Africa
Application I did not write
Now I love Africa, I serve Africa
I do not wish
to be British, American, Russian
I do not tell others to be African
Let Whites be Whites, Colored be Colored
Let Blacks be Blacks
Do not convert me too your thing
We live on earth- each at a corner
to play games of life there;
strikers, goal-keepers, defenders;
there are spectators to give morale
But do not relegate me to morale boosting
when I can be striker or goal keeper
We live on earth as one human race
to emphasize brotherhood of humanity
Brotherliness compels us to live as family
but be you, and let me be me
fate sealed the contract
We come, live, go
one life, one journey, one direction
no passport, no check point, no exit
each with deeds on the head for accountability
African or not
Psychic spies from China try to steal your mind’s elation
In time for the big election of the king of civilization
Why’d I have to win, I wanted retirement and a vacation
Well, time to go to Hollywood for an infinite adjuration
Give someone else the job ‘cause tomorrow there’ll be complications
Or give me the scepter anyway, it’s the rule of the automations
Pay the media well and they’ll see no psycho aging
The iron fist of freedom, interplanetary war-waging
Mothers will mourn
For their first-born
Dream of Californication…
Dream of Californication…
The public will look at me and they’ll see but pure adoration
Until the press drones break free and start publishing accusations
Then a trial with hanging jury and defamation
The strikers will face more than one silly altercation
While I find a spoon, dig out of jail, and set up a universe-nation
To replace the one destroyed, Hollywood’s Californication
Pay the media well and they’ll see no psycho aging
Extolling on your greatness and the love the world is craving
Mothers will mourn
For their first-born
Dream of Californication…
Dream of Californication…
Circle
I mean
One circle
Encircling you and me
And some other bigger and smaller circles
Let us draw some quadrilaterals of different sizes
Place those quads in and out side of the circles
Now you can see
The house
We live
In
Here
Right here
You are just a Carrom man
Strikers are busy with you
Playing the game of "Strike and pocket"
Let us draw some parallel lines
Which will never converge or diverge
You won't be able to encompass those lines
Those are drawing a new picture
Picture of a relationship
Name it -
Friendship
Carrom Man : disk of Carrom
Why are we turning against each other,
especially when we need each other most?
We kill, we shoot, we lose innocents
but why are we killing those who have done no harm
instead of those who have?
Why are we turning against each other?
Police officers shooting down teens,
people shooting down officers
but no one deserves to die
no one at all
Why are we turning against each other
especially when we need each other most?
Look at yourselves.
You kill when there isn’t an enemy.
You are putting America to shame.
Why are we turning against each other?
Look at our troops
They have grown to be a family
They would never kill one another
because they know we are not the enemy
Why are we turning against each other
especially when we need each other most?
Too many people are dying
for no reason at all but what can be said?
Not “Everything’s gonna be alright.”
Why are we turning against each other?
Smite the strikers but for what?
They only practice their freedom of speech,
they only want to be heard
but instead they face jail time, abuse, and death.
Why are we turning against each other
especially when we need each other most.
Jet,
yeas, it is mean clearly full ahead,
helicopter,
well, another oddly iron Robocopter.
But look for dragonfly
for his camouflaged flying
when he chased the flies and mosquitoes
and others supersensitive and artful pilots.
He is moved absolutely disorderedly
and unexplainable,
full ahead and full back
and topsy-torvy,
with instant accelerating
and the same deceleration,
from great speed
to complete stoppage on air
(as a crawling tiger on grasses
when a gout turn to backward) ,
creating fantastic maneuvers and tricks in 3D
of the blissful summers performance
on the edge of lake, hear me,
it’s the figures of greatest pilotages
said practiced aviators
from MIGs, Hornets and Phantoms
and other airs strikers and predators.
TEAR GAS TICKET
Gotta get home.
Comin' on night.
Notta time to roam.
Air tastin' fight.
Me, jump on a ride--
toward my town.
Tout, he says with pride--
‘Best bus around’
Next guy says to me
‘Drivers start strike--
We just have to see
What this ride’s like.’
Strikers kiss their stones
To Throw them straight.
'God please get me home--
It's gettin' on late.'
white gal slinks down
covers her face
she's just like me
needs a hidin' place
Strikers kiss their rocks.
Wounded bus jolts.
Me, I worry clocks
While street revolts.
Army trucks here--
Green pour out.
Driver looks scared,
So does tout.
Pop and pop again--
Know that sound.
Tear gas kiss eye
Tanks rumble ground.
Safe inside the bus--
white gal and me,
Stink kills all the fuss
And home goes we!
NOTE: tout (rhymes with out) is the bus conductor--his job is to hawk until bus is full
PLACE: Nairobi, Kenya 11/28/2012 during political unrest before elections
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