Revolution

Cold Rage

Scream, scream, screaming:

 

Help those drowning 

 

all around

 

and they look to their coffers,

and the piles fill into the coffins--

 

The tide is coming in and the flood

is just getting worse:

there's a rage building in the dead,

and we'll speak for them. 

 

Wretched bodies flung into a funeral pyre,

and the silence is deafening upon the pile,

and we see our love burned to ashes,

and we see their hands deep in pockets.

 

Cold hard cash for the winners and 

death sentences for everyone else. 

 

There's a cold rage building in the dead

and we'll speak for them. 

 

The march of the dead is coming and 

pitchforks are on our side this time.

 

Too big to fail too big to fall to big to take on

too big for their own good too big so

 

let's build ourselves and let them know

 

we're too big to ignore.

 

There's a cold rage building in the dead and

it just keeps growing and

we'll speak for them. 

 

If we're face down, six feet under, it doesn't matter

if their cash piles grow and grow

in the face of God they pray, bow, and pretend

it's fine as long as they say sorry

 

and it won't be. 

 

A cold rage is building in the dead,

am ember burning

threatening to blow it apart

and it just keeps growing

and

 

we'll speak for the dead. 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

There's a cold rage building in the dead. 

The Problem

The Problem

By JFarrell

 

The problem: War

Why do we have war?

The big boys, the US, Britain and Russia

Sell the guns and tanks to either side in every war

 

The problem: Unclean drinking water

Why? The wars we enable pollute the land

But, also, we have water-purification tablets;

Why do we not give these away, free

Stop people dying through lack of safe drinking water

 

The problem: 30 dead in a burned out tower block;

Why? Facts (not opinion): the less fire resistant cladding was used;

Fire services did not have equipment capable of reaching the higher floors

There should start your ‘Public Enquiry’ now.

In these times of austerity it was not cost-efficient

To use the slightly more expensive cladding

Or ensure our fire services were properly equipped

 

Profit before people is today’s world

Profit is the be all and end all;

Profit and wealth are not the only important things.

People are important, more important.

Think on this, you rich, wealthy people…

 

Apartheid had to adapt to the fact of there being more black people than white people, or face revolution.

 

There are far more poor people - people with nothing, people with little, “hard-working, honest families” - than there are rich people.

 

Vive le Revolution :-)

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

vive le Revolution :-)

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Feeding the Rich

Ruffling a few feathers
stepping on truffle treasures,
now these earthly pleasures
are inedible
maybe spreadable 
but I’m skeptical,
is it ethical to serve
these chemicals to the herds
of people that populate this place?

 

There is nothing to lose 
please bring the booze, 
We’ll be busy and dizzy
I cannot refuse
these unenthused excuses 
this 'Executive Level - Mouthful of Dirt',
we can even put it in their dessert.

 

Getting a little technical,
truffles aren't vegetables
we’ll make them injectable
a 'Signature Selectable!',
the dish will be 
delectable to the delegates,
the unelectable, disrespectful
neglectful fools are dumb enough
to stuff it 
and be confused~
they'll believe it's infused with molecules from jewels.

 

The fucking tools.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

We cook and care for the Pigs at the top while they spill us the scraps. Sometimes not even that. Time to change the menu. We are the Power.

A Revolution

A protest against wrong, 

with all the comrades along, 

a blaze in the hearts,

and hands playing darts, 

it is a revolution. 

 

Steps travelling for miles, 

and faces with smiles, 

hearts with determination, 

fulfilling the obligation, 

it is a revolution. 

 

A combat for truth and rights, 

many small and big fights, 

confrontation with failure, 

and rising up with a cheer, 

it is a revolution. 

 

Dying for own people, 

and hearts with happy ripple, 

so much they are nerveless, 

and as always they are fearless, 

it is a revolution. 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

For soldiers... 

 

The Vanilla Bean Ice Cream Clan

Once upon a time in a far away land,

An ice cream Queen led the Vanilla Bean Clan.
Their containers were generally purple and blue,
Still, no one, but no one really knew,
If the Vanilla Bean Clan’s flavor was true.

You see, their lids were cast from forged steel. 
A welded ring formed an impenetrable seal.
With no window or door for the curious to explore,
No one really knew their flavor for sure.


The Queen’s edict, ruled the land, 
No one, but no one, in her clan
Shall ever remove their lid, for if they did,
The penalty was death by thaw,
For those who did and those who saw. 

 

Once upon a day in this far away place,
A teen brought upon the kingdom disgrace,
He replaced his lid with cellophane, his flavor plainly seen,
This ice cream teen was butter pecan, not vanilla bean.
No one but no one should have a cellophane screen! 
And if that weren’t enough to disgrace the Queen, 
His container was not purple and blue, but breen.

 

The legislature worked quickly to outlaw breen, 
Before the child was brought before the angered Queen,
To answer for violating the rule of the land,
And for the secondary charge of “butter pecan.”
Before sentencing the boy to die, 
The Queen asked one question, “Why?”
To whit the eloquent teen did reply:

 

“I beg you great Queen, hear my plea,
My Queen, My Queen, how beautiful are thee, 
Your container and lid are for all to envy,
The only thing that could rival such perfection,
Is your inner Flavor that I can only imagine, 
Although never seen, I accepted this as true,
But hope you will share your flavor with me
as I have shared my butter pecan with you."

 

The Queen responded before a packed hall 
Of pint sized dignitaries and peasants and all, 
Conspiracy to "off a lid" is a capitol offense,
Wishing to see my flavor is not a defense,
I am beautiful and he is not,
So offing my lid was his jealous plot!
His fate was sealed when he was caught!
Throw the revolutionary into the melting pot.

 

As the boy melted into butter pecan stew, 
He screamed out to the Queen, what he now knew,
I see! … I see! … I see you!

 

Although the Queen’s lid was still securely intact,
Her vanity and in-ice-creamity were indefensible facts. 
Her flavor was now keenly known. 
One might think she would be overthrown, 
But one would be wrong now and then, 
For no one took their lid off ever again.
No one, but no one in the Vanilla Bean Clan,
Wanted to end up like butter pecan.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This poem is meant to represent the idea of an authority tell people who they are and who they should be, and punishing people for exploring and embracing their individualism. Although the Vanilla Bean Queen refuses to let you see the true of herself directly, the true of her is nonetheless exposed through her actions (i.e., "I SEE YOU").

Predator

Someones son is dying
right this immediate second of now..
and his General wraps his meaty iron fist
around the all-mighty oil-soaked dollar.
  An apex jungle-predator won't kill
for pleasure or amusement; 
  Even when hopelessly entangled
in the shimmering, dew-wet death
of a spiders web; 
  The spider, knowing it has no use 
for what has surrendered to its entrapment,
releases its prey not out of mercy, or sorrow..
but out of the calm calculus of reason.
  What then of this war? 
To quench the beasts' blood lust
of un-satisfiable desire?
  A revolution is growing silently 
in numbers, behind the backs
turned,
suckling from the tit of self destruction
and greed.
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Secrets of the tyrants

He is nothing but a man, mortal and afraid just like me. I do not fear his strength, for it is no greater than a bear's. I do not fear his speed, for it is no greater than a leopard's. Nor do I fear his intellegence for it is not greater than a human's, a human just like me. What I fear are the guards, the soldiers, the followers and most of all, the people. For they do not see what I see. They do not think he is nothing but a man, a man just like you and me.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Man may be the worlds most dangerous animal, but if you can read this, so are you.

I Hold The Power

Folder: 
Poems

I hold the power,

everything's in my hands.

At the top of my tower,

I make the plans.

 

Am I benevolent,

will I be nice?

I'm wise like an elephant,

but so cold, like ice.

 

I won't give you praise,

I won't give you love,

there won't be a pay raise,

from the power above.

 

I have no soul,

my heart is black,

dark as coal,

and kindness, I lack.

 

I won't be surprised,

if they decide to revolt.

I will be alive,

as they fill me with jolts.

 

They let out a cheer,

which will chill me forever;

but at least they are here,

and I brought them together.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Almost missed today, but I wasn't feeling to great today so I spent a majority of my day in bed. Still, the posts are still coming. This piece was kind of my look at some old monarchys in the past, or an idea for a story of mine. As always, criticism is welcome and appreciated.

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Stand With Me

Some call me a redneck some say I'm a hippy, I can't deny that those two words  describe me, but they don't define me.  Society places you in a category like they know your story but if you open your eyes there’s really more to see.  I’m an American, I’m supposed to be proud and free, but I’m not proud of what my country has turned out to be, I can’t see how I deserve freedom more than those that are different from me.  Everybody wants to live in peace and harmony, but the land of the free turns the other cheek.  It’s about money, not about the people, you see,  in reality, none of us are really free, we’re only 

Sheep.  Nothing’s cheap, but we’re expected to work for next to free, it’s like slavery, what happened to the land of opportunity?  We want to fight back, but we don’t know what we’re fighting for, things don’t feel right anymore, but we’re too blind to see that this democracy is just a business for those that are richer than me.  We’re pawns in the game of currency. 

 

 It’s time for a revolution, but we’re not on the same page, we feel hatred and rage, when we should be motivated, let’s make a real change.  Religion and nationalism create egos, love of money creates problems, our governments create war,  we the people need to solve’em.  Anarchy is viewed so negatively, but what it means to me, is to live as free as we’re supposed to be.  I’m not writer, but this needs to be said, our constitution is dead, and needs to be revived before we all live regrettably.  People jailed by a plant grown naturally, turned away at the borders cuz they’re tanner than me, governments creating war internally, to fight back can only be done illegally.

 

 Who’s going to stand with me, and set this world free?!

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Not so much a poem, more of an outcry to take action.