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Great Poetry
#91
RE: Great Poetry
"The Only Thing They Have, Is Fear, It sells, " By Brian37

The poor billionaires
Will end up on the streets
Eating Cat food if they don't get
The tax breaks they don't need

The pop of a riffle bullet
Pierced the peaceful  air
Killing a man of compassion
At the Lorraine Motel

And what of the Suffragettes 
Susan B Anthony gets
Brutally beaten up
For fighting for women's progress

Why cant they see
It is hypocrisy
We have witnessed many times
In human history

Just look overseas
And at theocracies
One party states
Where dissent has no place


Malala almost died
Because of the selfish pride
Of authoritarian men
Stuck in ancient lands

And the worst monster of all
Stood arrogant, proud and tall
Promising the land of Bravaria
A master race would rule the world

It is noting to admire
And everything to revile 
"The only thing they have, is fear
And unfortunately, it sells."
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#92
RE: Great Poetry
I got lucky with this last poem, just hit submit only to have a power grid go out in my area.
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#93
RE: Great Poetry
The following is a poem about my fear of flying. Ironically take offs and landings I fear the least, turbulence is what I fear the most. And it is a poem about the 1977 Canary Island double jumbo jet crash on one runway because of miscommunication and fog. 

Tenerife, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB and @Brianrrs37 on twitter).
 
A confluence of events
Of human, technology, weather and ego
Turned the tropical yellow bird
Into a crimson runway
 
Initiated elsewhere
By bomb threats
Multiple flights
Diverted to it
 
A tiny island chain
Volcanic in origin
Off the African coast
They both landed
 
In stride all took
From pilots to passengers
To the tower
A minor inconvience 
 
But then fog took over
And and pilots talked over
And one assumed
Till it was all over
 
Which one to taxi
When to take off
Miscommunication 
Was the boss
 
And one pilot
Made the assumption
That the takoff order
Which was not given
 
Gave him permission
To push forward
A decorated pilot
Whom insisted
 
To take the time
To refuel
Later investigation
Found out not needed
 
And the pilots
Of multiple jets
Talked over each other
Cancelling  each other out
 
Thrusters forward
It was too late
The ace pilot
Tried to leapfrog
 
But instead
Did not clear
Pancaked on top
Causing two jumbo bombs
 
Coal mine is 
And underestimation
Of human ego
When we lack patience.
END......

For those interested, here is the wiki article on the event I wrote this poem about.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tenerife_airport_disaster
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#94
RE: Great Poetry
 My Little Guy, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James RationalPoet on FB and @brianrrs37 on twitter).
 
I know you knead me
But why so early?
It's 4:45 am 
Why do you always wake me?
 
I can handle the hording
Of the couch
Of the bed
The way you spread out
 
So much so
I am cornered
Like a sardine in a can
Just because you can
 
I give you your space
Yet you still insist
After tons of rest
I must relent
 
To your kneading
And your pleading
Feed me, feed me
I know you knead me
 
The roosters arn't crowing
The birds arn't chirping 
The stock market bell
Has yet to open ringing
 
Yet you still insist
You lovable pest
Of waking me up
No matter what
 
Do me one favor
You cute fur ball
My best friend feline
Never stop at all
 
I know 
What you say
In the early hours
Before daybreak
 
Its not just
That you want to eat
I really understand
That you knead me
 
I know you love
The way I laugh
When you insist
On waking me up
 
You sniff my ears
You paw my head
When that doesnt work
You move to my stomach 
 
Maybe your stomach 
Is grumbling 
I still know what
You are really doing
 
You enjoy 
Like I do
Needing companionship
True and true.
(end)

Originally posted here at Rational Responders post #1008 hosted here... 

http://www.rationalresponders.com/forum/31771?page=20
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#95
RE: Great Poetry
President Mumpsimus, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB and @brianrrs37 on twitter).
 
Oompa Loompa 
Tax break scam
Emolument's Clause
Violate to enrich the fam
 
Bring back coal
Protect big oil
Mueller's going to be
Your final foil
 
President Cheeto
Is the man
Selling fear
To all his fans
 
"Rapists" and "terrorists"
Mere buzz words
"Identity politics"
Bought by the herd
 
Nonsense 
It's all absurd
Fear mongering bully
We're tired of
 
Fond of tyrants
Sell fear of migrants
It's all a distraction
Away from investigation
 
Just be sure
To attack the press
To distract away from
Your dangerous ignorance 
 
The social norms
He tries to sell
Are the pustulous values
Of bigoted swill
 
There are no good Nazis
No good KKK
He won't drag us back
To those old ways
 
And do not sell me
This bullshit crap
Billionaires will end up eating cat food
If we raise their tax
 
We're tired of 
The old cold war meme
Neither Cuba or Venezuela 
Do we aspire to be
 
Oompa Loompa
Ignores his own intel
Sucks up to tyrants
Isn't that swell?
 
The story to tell
Hubris will fail
When the sane speak up
To avoid such a needless  hell
 
(END)
 
Poem title inspired by Twitter user Mindy whom used the word "mumpsimus" in a recent post. 
 
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#96
RE: Great Poetry
I heard a woman becomes herself the first time she speaks without permission
Then every word out her mouth a riot
Say beautiful and point to the map of your body
Say brave and wear your skin like a gown or a suit
Say hero and cast yourself in the lead role
When a girl pronounces her own name, there is glory
When a woman tells her own story, she lives forever
If this poem is the only thing that survives me, tell them this is how I happened
Tell them I built me a throne
Tell them when we discovered life on another planet, it was a woman
And she built a bridge, not a border
I heard this is how you make history
This is how you create a new world

(Denice Frohman)
Where are we going and why am I in this hand basket?
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#97
RE: Great Poetry
Low Fantasy

You and I oft danced in a dreamt up dystopia.
Underneath ageless winds born from dragons’ wings.
We collected most precious memorabilia
Made from old news, cardboard and other trivial things.

Mirrored the world as it was, as princess and prince.
With the stage itself dismantling our binding quest.
Rival rogues, timid thieves, assaulted assassins:
Summarized in a King’s cold court’s fool’s jest.

And though I would awaken the giants from the earth,
To shake the foundations of reason and belief,
I am but a dwarf looking up to you with mirth:
A wraith captivated by your bodice and by grief.
"If we go down, we go down together!"
- Your mum, last night, suggesting 69.
[Image: 41bebac06973488da2b0740b6ac37538.jpg]-
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#98
RE: Great Poetry
Thanks
BY W. S. MERWIN
Listen
with the night falling we are saying thank you
we are stopping on the bridges to bow from the railings
we are running out of the glass rooms
with our mouths full of food to look at the sky
and say thank you
we are standing by the water thanking it
standing by the windows looking out
in our directions

back from a series of hospitals back from a mugging
after funerals we are saying thank you
after the news of the dead
whether or not we knew them we are saying thank you

over telephones we are saying thank you
in doorways and in the backs of cars and in elevators
remembering wars and the police at the door
and the beatings on stairs we are saying thank you
in the banks we are saying thank you
in the faces of the officials and the rich
and of all who will never change
we go on saying thank you thank you

with the animals dying around us
taking our feelings we are saying thank you
with the forests falling faster than the minutes
of our lives we are saying thank you
with the words going out like cells of a brain
with the cities growing over us
we are saying thank you faster and faster
with nobody listening we are saying thank you
thank you we are saying and waving
dark though it is
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#99
RE: Great Poetry
New Zeal Land, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB and @brianrrs37)

Build yourself up
As the oppressed
Build yourself up
As the only to solve it

Paint yourself 
As the underdog
Lead the others
Out of the fog

Unrepentant 
Intolerance 
You're the right skin color
The only correct religion


Sell them a utopia
Make them rise up
The cost of innocents 
Is not that much

Rise rise
Make them pay
Falsely play victim
Every day

Hate to tell you
Muslim, Christian and Jew
Buddhist and Sikh 
And Hindu too

The earth is far
Far older than you
We are the same species
That's always been true.

We've always migrated
We've always mixed
And every single human
Eventually gets replaced

The real enemy 
Of our species
Is that of hate
That of greed

We all bleed
We all die
One man's terrorist
A hero's lie

World powers
Must understand
On one planet
We all live

It's time to give
Our efforts to
Solving problems
That affect the world
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RE: Great Poetry
Tale of Lucid Lucius Pt. I

There's no greater tale told
Then the one about Lucid Lucius
Dreams were his realm
He could plant a small sapling in a man's mind
It would lay down its roots and a tree would spring forth
which changed probability itself
His words were honeyed
Silky smooth silver tongue
Skillfully slithering snakelike
into a man's memory palace
placing fractious fragments of illusion causing
illness, making fools of geniuses and the gormless

The Tale of Lucid Lucius Part II

The gormless held spellbound by his skill
He bobbed and weaved through words
He ran circles round rivals, leading them to the death knell
He was so drunk on power,
he did not notice his final hour draw near
Lucid Lucius laughed and lived
Loved and lost
Lusted and took what he wished
Dreams were his realm
Dreams he destroyed and illusions he crafted
There is no greater tale told
than the tale of Lucid Lucius
And the tale's end draws near.

The Tale of Lucid Lucius Part III

And so, now, our tale nears its end
A tale told, not by tall talkers
Making brave men run away with their tails tucked away
Told by scarred men beside the fire
The dying embers of the flame strong enough
To lure his ghost back into the fray
The ghost, the ghost of Lucid Lucius
Laughed in even death
For he said, a man does not go quiet to the God of Death
He rages against the oncoming darkness
And as above so below
Here ends the Tale of Lucid Lucius
There is no greater tale told
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