Iliterate Poet

A dumping ground for my works in progress.

15 Oct 2011

Crass Class and Pluto too.



Bastions of hopeful dreams roam.
March in costumes of skin and bone.
No longer begging Mercy; nor alone.

Scores, scales steeped in pain.
No wheat, just hail in stormy rain.
Think of you crying: we're the same.

Sharing warmth, kindly cuddling kin.
Constructing strength from within. 
Stand by me, as I stand by you: Win.

Hands athwart many seas and lands.
Our swaying voices, suave, heard echoing.
Echoing in corridors of power, verbatim.

Don your stubborn brow, head and heart fixed well.
United in that prisoners' dilemma: no cell, no cell!
Pushing, peacefully pursuing an end to plutocracy.

A hand full of tears, minds full of fears.
The game is real, the gloves are off.
Fair rules before freedom falls; and humanity is washed away.

2 comments:

Nicely written Gwylym! I particularly liked your closing lines:

"A hand full of tears, minds full of fears.
The game is real, the gloves are off.
Fair rules before freedom falls; and humanity is washed away."

Hopefully, the sleepers will wake
Before it's to late.

As the oceans lay dying
With politicians lying.

But, it may be too late
To escape our fate.

It may be late...

10•16•2011 RAB
 
Thanks Roger. Is it ever too late? The point of writing this poem is to acknowledge those who protest for a better future. The UK Governments states on their website that: "The right to peaceful protest is a vital part of Democracy." This is not an attack on Rich people, in fact I have numerous wealthy friends and colleagues and aspire to eke out a decent living myself, too - I am merely drawing the reader's attention to the current problems that we all face in today's Global economy.

I am more interested in solutions, rather moaning about misfortune; but these problems need to be addressed and peaceful protests are a good way to get the World's Politicians to discuss these difficult problems and hopefully find solutions .
 

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