Political / Social Poems (810)

Everyday at about ten in the morning,
The same thing happens over and again.
The same people as usual go out,
Leaving behind wives and children at homes.
Still the earthquake does not shake the ground.
As the evening nears, the same people
Head back to their homes,
All tired and defeated.

I know the earth will not shake this way,
Nothing will happen this way.
These people are afraid of some reason.
They, all over again,
Arrive at the foregone conclusion
That lying is an art,
And every man is an artist,
Not after the reality of the world
But after his own craziness
To give meaning to his world.

Sometime when I return
Home in the evening,
I feel terrifying shapes,
Like thunderbolts,
Crashing through my soul,
As if someone crushed together
All colorless men and things
And pasted them on some blank spot
Against the blood colored ground.
And now all the buried colors of men
Have sprung up by themselves.

O Gentlemen

It is your blood or theirs,
It is the human blood after all.
War may go on in the East or the West,
It will bleed the peace of world, after all.

Bombs may fall on homes or on outskirts,
They wound the spirit of life after all.
Our crops may burn or theirs,
The famine will kill humans, after all.

Tanks may move forward or recede
They tear open the Earth after all.
Be it the victory of war or the mourning of defeat,
Life sheds tears on death after all.

So, O gentlemen!
It is better to end the war.
In the courtyards, yours and ours,
It is better to keep the candles burning.

Trapped I am, trapped I've been,
Trapped again like you never seen,
Dead end job, nine to five,
I do what I can to try to survive.

I'm working class I'd always thought,
Better yourself I was now being taught,
Better yourself and you won't look back,
Gain new knowledge that you know you lack.

They never told me of the price I'd pay,
Losing friends as I moved away,
Away from all I was sure I knew,
Insecure I rapidly grew.

I don't know where I now belong,
For what felt right sure now feels wrong,
For working class I've had too much school,
For academia I'm just a fool.

For a better life I got a fleeting taste,
But as time moved on I've been laid to waste,
My life's imploded like shattered glass,
Who were the fooling I'm working class.

It's cruel, as cruel, as cruel can be,
To get a glimpse of what I could be,
I can't help myself for I must use my head,
I fear that i become again the brain dead.

you may seem to notice
that i do not always seem to please...
if you don't understand
then i give you the stand...

i may seem to be different
but i'm just a part of the indent...
well,for you i may behave strange
yet everybody has there own way...
i may see you strange too and you may see me
strange...that the strangest way...
no choice...
deal with it...
cause we we're not born to please everybody...

Has the world come off hell’s hinges
Society worn out on drunken binges
What about all us mere smidgeons’
Flocking around a bunch of pigeons
My hand holding a wallet twinges
Rising oil prices making hair singes
Sheiks and oil barons make cringes
Profits high and an environment tinges
Not all is right like addict’s syringes
Welcome all to the lunatic fringes

She came here to a land so cold,
Searching for those streets of gold,
From friends and family she went away,
It is such a heavy price to pay,
A strange land and a language new,
The thoughts of home make her feel blue,
The feeling of loss in her heart it burns,
She prays for the day when she returns.

As far as I'm concerned the price of gas is too low
I offer you Senator a bill that will not only increase oil profits
For the oil companies
But also tack on a pay raise for ourselves
I don't know about you
But I do know what the American people who are struggling to stay warm
In the winter and fill their vehicles mean to me
What they mean to me and what they mean to you
Are a bunch of suckers to use and abuse
I don't care about them at all
What I do care about is my own wealth
And doing right isn't going to do that
Keeping the price of gas low isn't gonna put that shiny red porche
In my garage or a 50 inch plasma TV hanging on my wall
So by passing this bill to raise the price of gas from 3.30 to 4 bucks
By May and make these increases retroactive each and every year
At a rate of 18.5 percent each year
So you see fellow Senators in just 10 years we will all be very
Rich men and the poor will get poorer which is exactly what we do best
Thank you for your time

Thinking less for ourselves these days
And working harder for a lot less pay
Our world seems caught up in a haze
When good life is all we really crave
Freedom creeping closer to its grave
Powerful forces making all a slave
Knowing less and less about our history
Making leaders more and more blistery
Leading us more and more into mystery
Really not forming our own opinions
Let us be cast aside so many minions
Closer and closer to chaotic dominion
Do movies, internet, radios, and television
Really bringing us so much division
True freedom is making one’s own decision

God bless America
God Bless my poet friends
God bless men
God bless women
God bless us
God bless Union
God bless life
God bless to breath
God bless to eat
God bless time
God bless the USA
God bless friends
God bless peace
God bless silence
God bless to have no more hate

I am who I am

I am what you see

To be somebody else

Just wouldnt be me

So take me as I am

And ask what you see

You will see nobody else

___ Nobody but me