Tell them we are working hard
They will soon afford to buy rice
Show them our graphic evidence
Of rice pyramids. We are self-sufficient.
When they complain of hardship
Give them rice!
When there is rising unemployment
Add some more rice, I say
There's plenty of cassava too to eat.
If they plan to protest
And the workers want to strike
Pacify them with mudus of rice, right away
I know my people, they will shelve it.
All subsidies are gone forever
Taxes all around have come to stay
And when those rabble begin to grumble
Let the Custom open their stores
Of foreign rice to them. It tastes good!
My people are understanding
I have instructed them to tighten their belts
But if they questioned my extravagance
Give them state-sponsored rice
Sold at a subsidized rate.
Let them know we are truly empathic.
Not our fault about climate change
God knows why! We inherited banditry
Herders-farmers' clash, from our predecessors
But be assured when disaster strikes
Our response shall be swift
To distribute rice in camps of the IDPs!
~the psycho socials sides socially subsidized social sides socially so ~
9/20/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2020
Foregone is my freedom
My future and it's conclusion
My most detached relationship
To myself now subject
To scathing privately
In installments with you.
Now I confided
“He tends a garden”
How was I to express
Without existential anguish
This irrational leap of faith?
Subjugated or subsidized
It bankrupted my reason
So far-gone was my longing
I was invited to a task.
My lesson was to refute life.
Something I had
Already accomplished.
So I confided.
“He tends a flower”
Half-witless or absent minded
I felt no connection
To your thankless doctrines
And I waited patiently at the end
Of whatever road I had taken
For my choice attendant.
And I confided
“He tends to Petunia”
Watching the festering global sores of mankind
This propaganda called news, has on rewind
Images are shown for their shock value
Then compromise the effect with their marginal views
Atrocities are shown, religious zealots leak out
But the story's one sided, free thinkers have doubts
Political pundits push, independence for all
Third world economies propped up from the fall
Global warming is real, eager scientists report
Our president's vacationing at a private resort
The impoverished are starving, the land of milk and honey
Abundance receding, the food banks want money
Hatred and bigotry, open wounds from the past
With military surplus, revolutionaries are gassed
This relentless bombardment is numbing our senses
While access to our country is being prohibited by fences
Our children aren't safe, their education is lacking
International larceny from subsidized hacking
Opinions are based on the images we see
Ephemeral sadness declines instantly
This biased information, which we receive
Is one sided and filtered, leaving us deceived
an original poem by the "poemdog" Daniel Turner
The corporation offers logo wear
Dazzling subsidized cafes
State of the art fitness centers
They bring the dentist, dry cleaners
And hair stylist to you
No need to leave our campus
Ever! Never! Never!
You won’t be able to resist
“Resistance is futile” sayeth the Borg
But do strive to maintain
A healthy work/life balance!
Productivity depends on it!
We are a big happy family!
With a bottom line
You won’t see it coming
You won’t know it’s happening
A slow chronic progression to blindness
Like whiskey, the collective seduces you
Along the way you will be anointed
With undeniable proof of your value:
Bonuses and stock options land in your lap
Awards and AmEx gift cards appear on your desk
Until you can no longer abjure
‘Tis best to surrender and demur
You have incorporated into the corporation
Your cultish obedience has turned
To Stockholm Syndrome
There, there now...Reeeeeeeeeeelllaaaaaaaaaaxxxxxxxx
Don’t struggle! Do abide!
There, there now...doesn’t that feel better?
i
pot bellied boasting navels
shiny round ball bearing stomachs
haloing out of diesel grime
over alls and silver buttoned railway
insignias
these long waxed pig curled mustache workmen
rotated their lives between shifts of day and night
with metal lunch boxes and coffee tin flasks
strolling main road home or to that gleaming rail
that provided a town’s livelihood
my grandfather worked that rail and my father too
providing me with the means
to take that broke back-heart break scenic route
out of town for good and forgetting
until now
ii
coming back everything changed
and the fat men were now old and wiry
sitting on subsidized railway porches
looking on main road maybe thinking rail
going to that station I found it desolated
and the once shimmering humming rail
all rusted up and silent
I touched it and imagined the once proud spirit of it
corroding away as the blue collar folks on the porch
I'm watching the downfall of the nation I served
Leadership bought by the middle East has me unnerved
Our flag waving in glory still makes this old heart swell
But our chance of survival is that of a snowball in hell
Our pride's been replaced by government subsidized laws
Free homes, free phones, free care, we no longer fight for a cause
Dependent on government we can no longer be called man
Just jackasses and sheep, no longer part of the plan
The end of an era with a system that's beginning to smell
Our chance of rebuilding is that of a snowball in hell
The state of the union has working Americans irate
Too many dreams have been shattered since 2008
Financially destroyed by a man on a mission, pray tell
Our chance of achieving is that of a snowball in hell
Socialize your piety
Whilst still capitalizing on figurines
Maximum bust on trophy shelf
Doing it all in cutthroat seas
Wandering in lucid dreams
Charging up energy to believe
Now out on dottted lines
Where traffic does confine
Minds strapped against time
Look around towards horizon's smile
the lustrous safari outstretch
Lions making disco rhymes under sun
Men in jeeps adrenaline to run
Gravity is patient
She does not force
Talking heads beyond
What is subsidized-
Caring for elderly and poor
Is that economy brain drain?
Are we that atomized?
Phooey to the Royals
By Elton Camp
In the USA, we are all Mister, Mrs. or Miss
The royal titled our collective foot can kiss
In England they sure seem to take delights
Giving flattering titles to economic parasites
When I hear baron, lord, prince, earl or duke,
Titles really just sort of make me want to puke
Seems to me that they have an awful lot of nerve
Accepting honors they done nothing to deserve
It makes me wonder just how they come to rate
Being subsidized financially by the British state
I can not see just how on this good, green earth
They deserve anything from an accident of birth
A royal nabob might even become less of a jerk
If, like the common folk, he had to go out to work
But I suppose the English will tolerate it anyhow
Still to their royal highnesses will scrape and bow
Fifteen centuries ago came a little man with a dream of rolling dough,
in this dream he subsidized pizza for the whole town to enjoy and throw.
Along came this beautiful angel that told him he needed something more,
So he thought deeply about it all day and made it better just like Thor.
This dream of pizzas was so fulfilling that he made the most delicious, and exquisite
pizza that anybody had ever tasted,
Him and everybody lived without being hasted!
Hiding from my dreams
I feel myself running faster
Leaves on dying trees my only witness
I'm left standing beside myself it seems
The darkness of your forest engulfs my spirit
Alone and scared, tears trickle past my hope
I can't escape from my past, I pretend to cope
Abandon the truth that is clearly visible
Subsidized meaning behind your smile
The weight of your words becomes more like a memory
Remember when all men were taught chivalry
It was a lesson it seems to be lacking in the present
Venture past the brink of what was possible
I can not argue with the logic of the reason
But as summer sets we are in the cycle of seasons
As predictable as the words from my mouth
In the gaiety of poverty
I’m happy as you please
paying my rent
with drunken smiles
celebrating my choice
of subsidized afflictions
Its not me you see
clothed in the sun
bleeding thoughts of glory
toiling
amongst the colorful dead
I sweat black earth
share scars with straw hats
whisper intimacies into
restless pools of light
as green bananas
fall from the heavens.
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