Ruining Of Society
Earthquakes are everywhere.
No one can be found here and there.
A lawless society.
With no authority.
Vandalizing someone's property.
No care but to destroy the environment anyway.
An era of decay.
The world is going insane.
Mankind above the law.
Just like Babylon.
The sins of the earth.
Burn down the flesh, remain in the dirt.
A corrupt government.
Everyone can see it.
Many will suffer.
The world is going under.
Every man for himself.
No food on the shelf.
Centuries burning, what a shame.
Nothing will ever change.
A holy war no one can see.
Stand by the cross, it’s all that I need
The price of decency in today’s world
Is the same as it has always been:
Your liberty or your life.
If you give a moose a muffin
After all
Next you’ll have to invite them in
For a glass of milk.
And we all know how difficult it is
To get a moose to leave your kitchen.
And so it goes for the illegals
Flooding the open borders
Or the squatters trespassing
Into empty homes
Or the homeless and hapless
Stealing and vandalizing with impunity.
If you’re a decent person today
The lawless will walk all over you.
And those who enable and encourage
Such lawlessness, remain protected
Whilst whistleblowers of all stripes,
From Julian Assange to Seth Rich,
End up in exile or simply dead.
There you have it.
Exile and death.
The future of human decency.
(3/22/24)
Beyond the imposing and the high iron gate
The picturesque setting of the Oxford University
Situates the hedonistic oriented Bullingdon Club
Founded more than 200 years ago.
The socially exclusive students get the invitation
To join the Club as its elite members
Many of whom have attained prominence
And position of power in Britain’s political arena.
The ill-famed Club is known for
Its wealthy members and their notorious behavior
Partaking in the boisterous rituals such as
Vandalizing restaurants and students’ rooms.
The Club’s colors are sky blue and shining ivory
Seen on the tailcoats the members wear
For the annual dinner where the drunken revelers
Greet each other chanting “buller, buller, buller”.
The Club has survived the roller-coaster ride
Lurching between frequent recruitment crises
And nearly facing the shut down
But the buller has a way of bouncing back.
The distinctiveness of its haughty members
Reflected in their one-upmanship attitude
Took them to eminence along the tough tracks
The outside world is skeptic about their dubious traits.
____________
April 7, 2023
Contest : Bullingdon Boys
Spoinsored by : Joe Maverick
A dedication to my creative writing mentor Tom Foolery
The measuring cup was shattered
and lying all over the floor
It was an old pal,
for making tea of mine, through many days of many rainy seasons
It was never an easy feeling to register
you need help in your mirror, after all these days
Something is quite in-situ there, thinking that I am in need of it again for evermore.
I let her go,
an old pal is waiting for the floor to clean the space with neatness to go on.
As they sue an misunderstood brain, for vandalizing the face that is to be carved on the stone
I gifted her the soul
and I saw her blue eyed in pain, as a bottle cringes in pain, in a blindfolded loss
I simply reminded her,
it is okay to be imperfect, just let us float in, and you shall find my truth. Within.
Where I stayed and stayed and stayed for too long,
in the mere wish of a friend, for a life to be true, in thick and thin.
2021 was a good mourning...
but 2022 was so and so...
and 2023 is here marching in, once again!
Is it too late to catch up the show?
It was the most horrible thing I've ever seen.
I was murdered 100 years ago on Halloween.
A man accused me of vandalizing his house but I didn't do it.
I told him that I was innocent but sadly, I could not prove it.
He grabbed his double barreled shotgun and I was shot.
He threw my corpse down his well and there it would rot.
When I was killed, I became a ghost.
Revenge was what I wanted the most.
And I got exactly what I wanted.
That man committed suicide after being haunted.
I haunted him for months and he couldn't take it anymore.
He shot himself in the head and his corpse fell to the floor.
I haunt that man's house on Halloween, I haunt it once a year.
If you come to this house on Halloween, you will experience fear.
That man murdered me and when he died, he went straight to Hell.
Stay away from this house on Halloween or I will haunt you as well.
The best artists are outlaws
Vandalizing our sanctity,
Our sanctimonious freight trains,
Our parsimonious neglect.
The best artists are culprits
Chiseling our school desks,
Scraping our bathroom stalls,
Doodling our notebooks.
Graffiti spray paints the struggle,
Scribbling defaces the pretense,
Defilement arrests the complacent,
Disfigurement sullies the platitude.
Defacers embody the dialectic,
The opposition to conformity,
The betrayal of uniformity,
The rebellion against authority.
The best artists are pariahs,
Trashing our temples,
Tossing out our moneychangers,
Driving out our shysters.
Standing too close is very dangerous,
can we tell who carries the disease?
Everybody refuses to pay the price.
No effort is made to obey restrictions;
who really likes to stay inside, be quarantined,
wear an ankle bracelet and be controlled?
Riots, protests, obscenities and bloody faces,
bricks shatter windows, stores burning;
thugs vandalizing, smashing and looting.
Trump threatens and sends in Federal Agents,
Portland's anarchists spread terror;
America is on the brink of social war.
How many children have died?
how many mothers have grieved?
Streets and avenues are filled with blood,
American flags are stepped on and burned,
statues are toppled, monuments defaced.
Vandalizing History
A Miracle Man opinion
6/21/2020
Under social injustice, history is vandalized today,
what started out a peaceful protest, wound up an affray.
Many became vociferous in expressing some slighting,
now, seems no day passes without dissing or gaslighting.
The world is too loud and I need placid times,
but my thoughts are ambushed by protest and crimes.
While burning, and looting, history they replace,
bringing to their movement resentment and disgrace.
Today, segments of some cities are facing a coup,
there’s so much fake news, who knows what is true?
It’s cleverly reported inciting anger to peak,
tongues utter only what sinful hearts speak.
We witness flags ablaze and monuments torn down,
society as we knew it, has experienced a meltdown.
If revenge is payment for wrongs of some past day,
God has declared, “vengeance is mine; I will repay.”*
*Romans 12:19
“Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath: for it is written, Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.”
A PLEA FOR HELP
(Coronavirus COVID-19)
Roy Mokoena
From coughing to coffin
So quick this is how you spread.
You attack every living mammal
You torture all the helpless animals.
You are a menace to our health
You are lethal and contagious.
You are serious about destroying the mortal world
Stop the savage attacks on a defenseless nation.
Enough with the killing, Enough with the killing.
The level of rivalry among people is growing,
Everyone is focusing on their own wellness.
Families are no longer bonding,
Fellow citizens are quarantined because of your inhumane deeds.
Government is struggling to come up with solutions on how to better the situation
and find the cure for the infected.
You have put the world into vicissitudes of life.
Be visible and come out to the light so that we can give you the ubuntu treat.
Drop off your missiles and stop vandalizing
the innocent creatures.
Hear us, Hear the world, Heal the nation O Lord!
Do not give credence
to mundanity. An iconic
black night was getting ready
to welcome Venus.
A storm was raging inside,
vandalizing the secrets of the house,
uprooting the doors and windows.
The whole life was at stake.
Shrinking the head of foes,
you start eating the live insects.
But the truth was escaping
from your lips.
My poem drop the seeds,
for the unborn children of violence.
I dedicate a book for the other me,
as I near the crossroads of uncertainty.
Satish Verma
The Kings Child
A parable about a dying planet
Withering away and parched
Had a miracle inside full of life
As its surface began to split apart
The mother planet started to push
The living planet into the atmosphere
To protect the life inside no one could see
Sending it into a galaxy where it could flourish
Entrusting it into the hands of Stewarts
Who promised to care for its well-being
Something has gone very wrong over time
Nature is angry over the loss of her young
What if we had kept our promises
Caring for the earth not vandalizing it
What if we only took what we needed
Not plucking every mineral from its core
What would the earth be like today
In your minds and hearts if we kept
Our promises to share her wealth not hoard it
I believe we would all be wealthy void of struggle
There would not be poverty and starvation
Greed is the poison that entered our thoughts
Creating a destructive force that has reached
The bowels of the land preparing it for destruction
What If…?
Carole Cookie Arnold
Alphabetical animals all around:
Angry army ants,
Busy buzzing bees,
Carousing calico cats,
Dancing dolphin duo,
Eerie electric eels
Fancy feathered flamingos,
Graceful grey geese,
Harmless hairy hamsters,
Interesting itchy insects,
Jolly Japanese jellyfish,
Karate kicking kangaroos,
Lonely little lizards,
Many mischievous monkeys,
Numerous nearsighted newts,
Old ornery otters,
Pretty pink pelicans.
Quick quacking quail,
Rockin’ Red Robins,
Slimy sea slugs,
Terrifying Tibetan tigers,
Upstanding undulating umbrellabirds,
Vicious vandalizing vultures,
Warbling white whipperwills,
Exotic examining extraterrestrials,
Yellow yoked yaks,
Zonked zoo zebras.
White chalk vandalizing it
Words and numbers haunting it
Pens scribbling to reflect it
Eraser smudging
Knowledge forever encrypting its life
Creeping crawling and tantalizing
Revamped and vandalizing
It creeps in
Clawing, digging, murderously thieving
Killing as it steals and thrills
It sneaks in
Vanquishing and smothering suppression
Suppressing all, thought of light regressing
It got in
Get it out, spit it back out. YOU DON'T WANT THIS TO GET IN!
Phlegm will choke you, but keep going and free yourself from sin
Dark's spittle can never, EVER..
Ah... here we are again my darling
It can win
My love, annihilation of consign
that thee, in aptitude, would frown on mine.
While adaptation vaguely draws the line,
that narrow thrust so vandalizing time.
Lean softly, thee contingent nature's rhyme
against my thought, a broaching matters fine,
staves holding only once in graces' entwine,
foreverness of love, a foul remind.
Indemnities research, cruelties ingest
preponderance so delivering fatal sign,
a faction not allowing heart's impress
outnumbers even reason for its crime.
So gloating, but for glory of conquest,
conviction stalling not this mire's assign,
some anger amplifies as in redress,
while warring carries on in merit's twine!
That bullish aggravate would thee confess,
this mulling captive loves thee with design,
before thy hand moves to refuel express,
admit our love is victim, we its pine!
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