Bursting at the Seems

The Holiday’s behind us,
a new year has begun.
The world it seems in turmoil,
why can’t we live as one.
~
The climate seemingly haywire,
continent’s now ablaze.
Glacier’s melting into the seas,
but to some it’s just a phase.
~
Leaders seem oblivious,
striving only for your vote.
Sycophants follow blindly,
getting screwed while they gloat.
~
War now seems inevitable,
missiles flying everywhere.
Pinheads pushing buttons,
could this be our final year?
~
Do I seem pessimistic,
or are things as they seem?
Maybe it’s time to wake up,
this ain’t no F’n dream.

~*~
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Why?

Hogarth_fighting2

We work by day and dream at night.
In between we live and fight.
We fight for peace and for love.
We fight to live, we push and shove.

Sometimes we give, sometime we break.
We sometime take more than we make.
We fight for much and for less.
We fight for time to fight off stress.

We’ve fought for us and for them.
We fought for merit and to condemn.
We fight the ills that lurk within.
We fight our demons so we may win.

Yet battles won are never done.
And battles lost are never one.
But still we fight until at last we die.
We’ll fight for breath to at last ask why.

~*~
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Dada A Nest Or

~*~

The penguin stands black and white.
Half a life cloaked in the night.
Creation birth’s little doubt.
A tomb within is a tomb without.

Words silence words shout.
Stature made high, real’s stout.
A planet only revolves.
Mother’s nature evolves.

Evil kills, the good resolve.
Time tells if poles dissolve.
Darkness begins when a day’s done.
The future’s bright or there is none.

Half our lives warmed by a sun.
Twice the heat when two is one.
Icy feet wish for flight.
Penguins stand, black and white

~*~

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Thank You Barbara for your inspiration!

 

 

Two to One

Too few natives, too many a chief

Too few police, too many a thief

Too much sun, too little rain

Too much tan, too little grain

 

Too few balls, too many sports

Too many yachts, too few ports

Too few hearths, too many homes

Too much warmth under too few domes

 

Too many shakes, too few hugs

Too little trust, too many bugs

Too little love, too much hate

Too little planning, too much fate

 

Too much running, too little soul

Too much waste, too small a hole

Too many pages, too few to conserve

Too many titles too few deserve

 

Too many thinkers, too little thought

Too many lies, too little truth sought

Too much war, too little gain

Too little peace, too much pain

 

Too many arms, too few fists

Too few battles won to list

Too little time, too much to lose

Two choices remain – which one do you choose?

 

 

The End                                          sck081314

Guns, Gods & Greed

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Sowing a hideous seed, nourished with gas dug from our past.

Shoot first ask questions last. But hurry they’re going fast.

Guns, gods and greed

Suckled breast corporate laced, plastic faces our world graced.

We share with all what we waste from our piles made of haste.

Winner takes all, just make the call. Man is big the earth small.

Enemies don’t grieve, faith does not deceive.

Much to achieve, just believe.

Guns, gods and greed

The seed grown, seeds of their own, on the wind they’ll be blown.

 Or from our hands they’ll be thrown all to cast the final stone.

Spreading death, division and despair – when thrice comes to bear.

The end may be near, a warning shot we’ll never hear.

But never fear.

Guns, gods and greed

Raise our arms to the skies, pop goes the fireflies.

Screams drown out the cries.

Close your eyes daylight dies, truth within, outside lies.

We laugh at others strife. Define who’s to be a wife.

Skewer the peace with our knife.

But soon we’ll all be saved – from life.

Guns, gods and greed

The  End

Steve Kittell 2014