Last Commented Political / Social Poems (810)

This silence all around me
So loud it deafens me
All this empty space
I feel crowded in

This bed so big and empty
On the edge I sleep
The dreams they crowd around me
And all they shout your name

Hot tears soak my pillow
A sob escapes my throat
Tomorrow is another day
I face all alone

A red light he ran
And drunk as well
Took away my love my life
With not a thought or care

Here I'm left with all this pain
While he walks head held high
Just a fine not even jail
The law just didn't care

For a little while
Just a few hours or so
Time went into reverse
And the past became the present
The world of childhood books, fantasy and fairy tales
Came alive and for those moments became real
Future kings and queen
Tall handsome warrior princes
Beatiful princesses
Horse drawn carriages and household calvary
Abbeys, cathedrals, castles and palaces
Colour, splendor and cheering crowd
Pageantry, circumstance and ceremony
Bells ringing, music and a feeling of well being
Just the stuff dreams are made of

I saw you here last Thursday night
Oh what a sight you were
Dressed in all your finery
A tie around your neck

Had you learned anything
I wondered as I saw
You strutting around in peacock's finery
And looking ever so grand

But then as your mouth it gaped
The vileness all dripped out
Words on words all spewed forth
My heart it sank so low

There she stood almost in tears
Trembling so in fright
Her only sin that I could see
She didn't serve you quite in haste

What gives you the right to think
You're better than all the rest
Just because she's here to serve
You can use your abusive tongue

You are such a cowardly dog
As you hide behind your words
Just because you're a Sesquipedalianist
Does not make you better at all

Everyone ......has a reason
To express ...what they say
Some just to heal....Others
For recognition.. their way

Whatever ......their choice
Whatever ..........they say
Open.............. mindness
Is.......... always the way

For writing .....an reading
Is ...........to be blessed
More luckier .....than some
Whose life... may be messed

Everything .that is written
Will always... be critiqued
As .....the balance of life
Is just.......... so unique

Teaching my boy to rise above
Things .......that maybe said
Bad comments ....not regarded
Will never mess with your head

As adults i would have thought
That ...some tact would be had
And respect ...to All who read
Whose company... we share glad

In a..... very public platform
As regarded........... as this
People........... come to read
The poetry........ ......Bliss

And the hollow face
That stared empty out of the box
Would beg to say
Pa will we eat today
In that well known place
Called Hooverville
:
And watery soup
Was the order of the day
If you was lucky
To be inline they say
The jazz had gone
That flight of fancy
The band could no longer play
:
And the gangsters groaned
For their own self pity
Box cars were full
Of the wandering dead
Going nowhere to work
To the evicted homestead
:
Bakers forgot how to make bread
And bankers leapt
Where paper wealth
Always seemed to tread
And where was your pity
For the wandering dead
:
And the towers of greed
Built of paper Mache
Would crumble and fall
When foundations folded
And left the hapless to bleed
:
But times were good
Of that we knew
As the suicides rose
No more the wandering dead
And the politicians preached
Nothing bad with Hoover stew

When I was young and naive, I believed the world was out there,
I looked at the vast continent on which I was born, my beloved Africa,
And I drooled,
What beasts were hidden just beyond yonder?
Who lived just across that river?
What was that jungle like way over there, where the horizon met the sky?
What islands lay just beyond further than I could see, yes, yes, just over there, just out of reach surrounded by the magnificent and never-ending Indian Ocean?
And my young heart pounded with excitement at the prospect of crossing one more river, journeying into one more jungle, setting foot on one more island...

Now, after some fifty plus years of exploring terra firma, my thirst has not been assuaged one iota,
My wonder-lust is as expansive as ever,
I still want to visit more islands, cross more rivers, sail more seas, meet more new faces,
However, I have travelled far and wide,
And have seen a lot more than my teenage eyes had,
And, now, now I wonder what’s within,
I find myself besotted with another kind of wonder-lust,
This time though,
Its directed inward,
To those equally vast and endless worlds within,
The ones the ‘banksters’ have sought to keep from us, so their enslavement of us can continue unabated,
Now, even ‘respected’ professors are talking about ‘population-reduction’,
There’re far too many of us on the planet they say,
They only need 500,000,000 of us, one can only wonder if their relentless attempts to vaccinate us, to send us to war, to poison our food and water, to ‘chemtrail’ our skies,
Are mere veiled weapons of mass-destruction, a term one hears bandied about more and more,
‘eugenics’ they call it,
I call it mass, homicidal, murder perpetrated by cowardly technocrats, revelling in the slaughter of innocents, including angelic, little children...

Although I’ve spent a couple of decades exploring the worlds within,
I know I have not yet scratched the surface,
But, I journey on,
Experiencing a delicious breakthrough every now and then,
But, I still feel like some Lilliputian,
Travelling down some forlorn stream in a matchbox-boat,
Fancying himself to be on the high seas exploring...

Flowing like raw sewage in the gutter
Becomes the opulance of your success
The gated walls on your hilltops shutter
Out any sight the very souls you oppress

What is born from privilege will always rest
When more work needs to be done for others
So many struggle to survive their best
Downwind from your fire a smoke smothers

Somehow always the rich will gain in wealth
Carelessly grows the weeds of Olympus
Stench of poverty is not very stealth
In the air chawers some catawampous

Unguided ungracious acts of meanness
Make for many a poor life meaningless

Long in sunny hollow does grass grown green
Watching apple blossums fall in the breeze
Slowly drifting past are clouds so serene
Great time to daydream or do as you please

Out behind the yellow farmhouse finds you
Hanging all our fresh washed clothes on a line
Nothing better can a warm spring sun do
Make any linens fresher or smell so fine

Living in the fair countryside immume
Far away from the city's smog and noise
Smelling sweet fragrance when wild flowers bloom
Is something very few of us enjoys

How great it makes a simple country life
A peaceful place for a man and his wife

Not only is it never mentioned,
but given different circumstances,
we may can manage.
the damage is already done.
O.k... They've won, but only a mere battle
yet, like cattle, like sheep
we're still sleep.
we still creep slowly, unknowingly deeper,
deeper into massahz clutches.
still today we won't touch this.

what's this crap that God can't be Black?
That he'd lack all things necessary to be seen
as the creator of all things
if he resembles a strong black King or Queen?

But, hold up! Look! this whole religious thing
started out from in between the metal spaces
of ethereal beings being Afrikaan.

Bethlehem, Yahrusalem, and all adjoining land,
jungle or sand
the people who got fed from tilling that land were Afrikaan.

How then can they say, it ain't that way
cuz they Bible say so?

Then I could show you proof that their not telling the truth,
and you being so used to their fiction, cause friction with me?
Brothers.... sisters.... can't you see
I just want us to be free
and not like we are today

refusing to use simple moral view to choose the right path
in light of getting rich and famous making arrangement with the cash
to lash out on me
just for telling you that we are just as worthy as all else
if not more.
Yet and still I'm sure that you still would not listen
even if you were given

PROOF.

There once was a senator named Ron Paul
He said we had to do something about the law
The taxes were too high, they should go away
The poor and the old should pay their own way
Instead the rich fat cats made a hellova haul