Political / Social Poems (810)

Park your self down here little lady
For my smile reflects nothing shady
'Tis but a process that i entertain
An that is communication simple an plain

I seek not your body although i would'nt mind
To absorb your caress would be divine
But more to start in the words that you speak
To enthuse my mind an compliment your meek

For my ears listen with a worldly intent
An fluently you speak with no resent
Instigating response at every pause
The convesation rebounding like revolving doors

As i see the tension lift from your face
An we relax in unison an talk at pace
An sparkles appear from your eyes
As you lift the veil from your disguise

An colours emerge as you relax with calm
Your barriers brought down with no alarm
An laughter erupts from your lovely face
For you finally feel comfortable in your space

I sit an admire how you have opened up
An respond with words from my golden cup
The conversation a starting point to transpire
Your lovely mannerisms fuelling desire

A lovely interaction between woman an man
Engaging conversations that do command
A fine tuned ear an eyes that speak
Complete attention is all you seek

I go to the exremes and have to cut my mind on a jagged edge to burst my emotions before I explode into a thousand selves
We can be who we are or play more games
Maleable like a stream my other selves give birth
The I and the flesh
The antenna of the soul
Our biology tells some of it all, but can we be free?
In the cave we know, but who is brave enough to tell that we are porns in the scheme of it all
The life is a shaddow and Of myself I can do nothing and waste my days
A meloncholy messenger, a cut price Jesus
I play with it all while the truth is told about the one who creates
One architect for it all
The will protests and wants to flow free imagining many shapes in a colourful parade
I ramble, I stumble my detrators persue
They wish to dance and be it all
I played, I succumbed to be part of the crowd and now rocks are thrown at my weary head
The parade, the parade the madness and all
The questions that died from not being asked a long time ago
The rants and the chats all by myself....
Can I see the Sun through the trees and find the way that he walked

Can I look into the eyes of a stranger and say,
I love you?
Can I say to the officer who’s just given me a traffic ticket,
I love you?
Can I say to the swarthy and gruff guy who’s just handed me my gyro,
I love you?
Can I say to the guy who’s just showed me the finger in traffic,
I love you?
Can I look into the eyes of my boss after he just fired me and say,
I love you?
Can I tenderly say to her who has just broken up with me,
I love you?
Can I say, I love you, to a son or daughter who just used a profanity against me?
Can I, not condescendingly, say I love you to a father or mother who has just unfairly upbraided me?
Can I forgive a friend who was harsh with me and say,
I love you?
Can I focus on my beloved’s good points after a tirade against me, and say,
I love you?
Can I forgive a lover’s infidelity and say,
I love you?

I don’t’ know,
Some of these, we’ve all done,
Others take more practice…

I love you dear reader and fellow-poet…

Who are you? so proud and tall!
You speak of freedom, For one and all,
A wise man, It is said,
Learns by past mistake,
Are we less of a fool,
If the change we don't make?
We are not the same!
And never have been,
For all over the world,
And more we have seen!
Drawn to this land, In search of a home,
Wrapped up in it's beauty,
With our seeds now well sown,
Who is it to choose, For you or for me?
For in my own eyes, We are already free!

Your words ring of poison
An there's hatred in the air
Only you know your background
But i'm sure no one did care

Your opinion is tainted
An a different point of view
The intensity of your words
Reflects broken images of you

Broken from the past
A childhood so severe
That nothing ever lasts
An love was never near

Or is it that you run
With the futuristic pack
Where there is strength in numbers
But alone....you are slack

You sit in devils garden
With hate on your side
An use your mouth aggresively
An mistake it for pride

You are what you are
An i'll accept that fact
But disrespect an ignorance
Is not good tact

But that doesnt bother you
For your life is a haze
An everyone around you
Just puppets in the maze

I hope one day you will see
The good side of life
An treat it with tenderness
To keep you out of strife

the talking heads are also comics
these economic geniuses after years
are spouting praises of Misernomics
quick study concluded we're in arrears

and need to decapitalize life today
don't spend anything you ain't got
to forestall our tomorrow going away
good advice founding fathers caught

and don't pay for what you don't need
so therefore we'll cut back education
sound advice in sane person might heed
to better manage our bankrupt nation

and health and vitality merely frills
no need to waste our coins on want
when trying to cover economic ills
monetary mismanagement returns to haunt

what we want is to address our need
to count ourselves and sum our greed
those roads, bridges, electrical grids
mattered back when the things we did

were more important than take home pay
we'll keep it all and count it up
what you knew then, has now gone astray
soon Spend-it-omics could again erupt

our future, our kids, our progeny all
"This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want"
matters minor, in our countless pall
our poorest desire, the possible, too daunt

in the mean time we say "thanks a bunch"
We'll save our lives for better times
food for thought on societies free lunch
We'll save our monied economic crimes

as Silas Marner tabled reclusive coins
no weighty matters outweigh the economy
these fearful economic times purloined
might priorities reflect our tragicomedy?

© agoodguy2have 2011-07-06

Oh ye so cruel who doth take life
And think of it as naught
Who take delight in mother's wail
And orphan's tears which flow

You dance with joy at bodies broke
And spirits crushed, defeated
As death toll rise and bodies mount
You claim for you the victory

But remember this, you need to know
The day you stand before me
I am God who judges all
And you will feel my vengeance

advantage taken of human need
as desperation laws do break
while US agri-business moves with greed
into the after-NAFTA wake
family fields of decimation
failing grains, lives at stake.

shy-of-heaven cross 8-foot-high
ribbons of discontent in wind blowing
not tall enough to carry all souls’ loss
walled-in people, walled-out hope growing
in the midst of such devastation
wondering just what seeds we’re sowing.

work-permits-limited limits survival, dreams
coyotes traffic in the middle
to feed on human flesh do scheme
free versus fair left to riddle
leaves one with no revelation
trading life for profit its current quibble.

permeable boundary where breath’s air
cut off again leads to plight
full value, full cost, full pockets, despair
from flames of injustice arises Phoenix flight
bold with rainbow-colored feathers, wings elation
as Justice GA 2012 prepares to fight.

where Arizona SB 1070’s fingers of injustice tread
hands join to make love a more powerful deed
diverse societies come with actions to spread
releasing the grip of fear and hate, the need
witness on racial and economic justice, immigration
for reason and love to rule, god speed.

empty hate’s coffers to redeem from sin
let the healing power of knowledge and love begin.

The Rhythm Of Time
There’s an inner thing in every man,
Do you know this thing my friend?
It has withstood the blows of a million years,
And will do so to the end.

It was born when time did not exist,
And it grew up out of life,
It cut down evil’s strangling vines,
Like a slashing searing knife.

It lit fires when fires were not,
And burnt the mind of man,
Tempering leadened hearts to steel,
From the time that time began.

It wept by the waters of Babylon,
And when all men were a loss,
It screeched in writhing agony,
And it hung bleeding from the Cross.

It died in Rome by lion and sword,
And in defiant cruel array,
When the deathly word was ‘Spartacus’
Along the Appian Way.

It marched with Wat the Tyler’s poor,
And frightened lord and king,
And it was emblazoned in their deathly stare,
As e’er a living thing.

It smiled in holy innocence,
Before conquistadors of old,
So meek and tame and unaware,
Of the deathly power of gold.

It burst forth through pitiful Paris streets,
And stormed the old Bastille,
And marched upon the serpent’s head,
And crushed it ‘neath its heel.

It died in blood on Buffalo Plains,
And starved by moons of rain,
Its heart was buried in Wounded Knee,
But it will come to rise again.

It screamed aloud by Kerry lakes,
As it was knelt upon the ground,
And it died in great defiance,
As they coldly shot it down.

It is found in every light of hope,
It knows no bounds nor space
It has risen in red and black and white,
It is there in every race.

It lies in the hearts of heroes dead,
It screams in tyrants’ eyes,
It has reached the peak of mountains high,
It comes searing ‘cross the skies.

It lights the dark of this prison cell,
It thunders forth its might,
It is ‘the undauntable thought’, my friend,
That thought that says ‘I’m right!’

Twenty-six kilometers north of Limassol, there’s a place called ‘governor’s beach’,
I love going there, especially when I feel my heart closing…,
Especially when the beauty within me becomes sparse and it needs replenishing,
For one thing I know,
As within, so without,
So I take care to be a conscientious gardener of the beauty within…,
For beauty is g-d, and g-d is beauty…


I like to sit there, on top of the hill and look down on the vast Mediterranean,
I’m writing this from there now,
There’s a gentle breeze entertaining my face, and there are thirteen souls on the beach below,
A playboy yacht is lazily lounging nearby,
Three little kids are cavorting at the water’s edge,
Elisavet and Angelos are two of their names,
The third, a little girl not older than 4, is obviously the ‘gang-leader’, I did not hear her name as she is the chatterbox who is incessantly barking out the important orders of the business at hand [in Greek, of course], of building, demolishing and rebuilding their sandcastle…,
Their mother, a svelte young woman, is talking on the mobile, for half an hour now, “…what’s the point of coming to this corner of paradise and yet have your ear glued to the cancerous device…”, I rhetorically ask myself…


I take a deep breath, I begin to disengage from the human elements,
I gaze at the sea,
I count ten different kinds of turquoise today,
Now, I try to connect to the infinite,
I greatly feel the need,
On the tree, above me, a crow sounds his very strange call, as if in agreement with me, and to spur me on…,
For a closed heart does not a body any good…,
I pack pen and paper reluctantly away,
And start opening my heart,
“…how are you today dear g-d…”, is my opening salvo to the infinite…