Genoicde, Slavery, Greed

Genocide, Slavery, Greed

 

We cry for the slavery that led to such wealth,

This is not just  the land of the free.

We witness genocide all over this earth.

What can we do to end greed?

 

We cry for the land, full of modified crops

We must work to save human life.

What will our grandchildren have to live through

Since our appetite causes such strife?

 

The oil wars that started a decade ago

Have moved toward the Caspian Sea.

We are the dissidents, loud, without fear,

Even if we are cut at the knees.

 

We cry for the news they keep off TV,

The grapevine could snap any day.

Disinformation is the age we live in,

So who’s going to show us the way?

 

The answer is simple, we grow as a team,

A new brotherhood in the light.

We must build the village, invite all your friends,

This is no time to give up the fight!

 

They have all the bombs, the juntas abound,

Monsanto is spraying the poor.

We must dig our hands into arable land

Or genetics will foul every spore.

 

Profit mongers have sucked the earth dry,

We must reclaim all that we can.

Industrial China, the last frontier,

Soon money will own every man.

 

The kids on the streets are locked-down together,

Push a bike, and you could get ten years!

All this is forced because we stopped caring,

Yet some offer blood, sweat and tears.

 

We couldn’t stop bosses from shipping our jobs,

The replacement is for-profit jails.

Our schools are rotting, so teach if you can,

Where it counts, not Harvard or Yale.

 

The time is upon us, united as friends

We can make anything grow.

Come join the party, sing and dance all the day,

Tomorrow we get out the vote.

 

We cry for the genocide, slavery, greed

That persists after thousands of years.

It’s late, but there’s time, if we really work hard

We can stop the torrent of tears.

Art Music Poetry 54

unusual colors this time

Magnets Sonnet I

We sweat together like delicate chocolate.
The comfortable wrap of ancient money fails to
Freshen a purple Iris. “Would summer boil a
Luscious petal language?” “Only in Peru.”

We conglomerate with threads forgetting friends.
The furniture designer conspired with unknown
Budding chiropractors. “Does singing
Interrupt suburban plight? “Only in Italy.”

Let my moment whisper through the raw heaves.
The guard allows no images of love beyond
Revolving doors, demented. “Would Sitler
Score in time to save our fate?” “Only in Toronto.”

We conspire against the grind, inspiring unseen art.
The joker who still wears hats all year round
Inspires another line: no hate. “Does smelling
Take the place like food of touch?” “Only in Peru.”

We sweat together like delicate chocolate.
“Would summer boil a luscious petal language?”