“Rich Lazarus! richer in those gems, thy tears, Than Dives in the robes he wears: He scorns them now, but oh they’ll suit full well With the purple he must wear in hell” Richard Crenshaw (c.1613-1649), English cleric, teacher, metaphysical poet, Steps to the Temple. Sacred Poems, Delights of the Muses (1646)
the unconscionable dance in the canyons of power,
lined with megalithic buildings, the edifice complex
of the spin-meister’s lie, that the demigods can do
anything – anything – walking this asphalt valley
a parade, flailing lemmings trussed and trusting their
die-cut dreams to the pitiless whim of the military/
industrial/medical alliance, whose war-cries are of
greed and arrogance, believing they’ll live forever,
today’s sovereignty, tomorrow’s guarantee. But it’s
all delusion – cultures die and the hope-crushing
architects of cuts and austerity measures are like
the rich man in the Lazarus story, there’ll be
some kind of backlash, some kind of hell to pay …
The phrase “austerity measure” isn’t used as much now as it was when I wrote this poem, but that injustice by other name or unnamed is still an injustice and it’s one that is happening all over the world.
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Poet and writer, I was once columnist and the associate editor of a regional employment publication. Currently I run this site, The Poet by Day, an information hub for poets and writers. I am the managing editor of The BeZine published by The Bardo Group Beguines (originally The Bardo Group), a virtual arts collective I founded. I am a weekly contributor to Beguine Again, a site showcasing spiritual writers.
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This took a while to write so apologies for being late and if it doesn’t make the cut, I totally understand! This poem taught me a lot about a subject I knew nothing about. Thank you for this lesson!
Licking wounds ain’t penicillin, No
It ain’t dinner cause you feed me a line.
Don’t lower the bar, gift me keys to a car
I swear ya’ll tryin to keep a girl blind!
I have seen poverty
Handed down
Heirlooms
Abuse and affliction
But I tell you, little sister,
We must start a fire
Burn it down
Oppression
In the guise of assistance
Oh, I am talking revolution
Handed down
Inner fire, explosive impact
Knowledge of your worth
Thank you, Ursula. Don’t forget to send me a photo (if you’re comfortable with that) and a short bio to introduce yourself to the community. Thanks! thepoetbyday@gmail.com
You say you don’t
want war,
Yet happenstance
could take you there,
Like a whispered phrase
passed from one to another,
becomes a monster in the end.
Time will tell if perchance
we fall again
into another hell……..
With fear to guide them
instead of Peace….
Who are you
that seeks supremacy
by discarding your soul,
and condemning
men, women and children
in aid of your success.
Is it your fear?
Your fear of threat,
That leads you to chance?
And your sons and daughters
to starvation and death?
The Answer I fear is YES………..
-J.E.Goldie-
in order for us to afford you
a chunk of you must go to war
a chunk will return
with some chunks gone and yearn
for the nonhellish sweettimes of yore
thus we make and deploy stocks of ordnance
and our colonels and sergeants show spine
for their new marching orders
defending the borders
and plumping that fine bottom line.
by 
Jamie Dedes' THE POET BY DAY Webzine 
Just checking
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???
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I was checking to see if it worked. 🙂
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Oh! Got it.
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Good 🙂
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This took a while to write so apologies for being late and if it doesn’t make the cut, I totally understand! This poem taught me a lot about a subject I knew nothing about. Thank you for this lesson!
https://iidorun.wordpress.com/2018/11/13/one-slice-of-bread-a-poem/
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https://wordpress.com/post/poeticoceans.wordpress.com/2610
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Dear JD hope you received my poem
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I checked on the comment link ..got a new password and tested..I think its working now
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THE BOTTOMLESS WELL
The rush of racing society,
The red, bloody riots,
The protesting children,
And teetering wars,
On an eternal
Merry-Go-Round.
On the stretching streets,
Lonely, curious, needy,
Men, Women and Babies,
The need for survival.
See the inquiring eyes
Plucked out.
Oh Run! Grasping
the veil of ignorance,
The hurt is stinging,
and
Stomachs are Pits of Hell!
Hide Society’s shame,
In Histories
bottomless well…
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Licking wounds ain’t penicillin, No
It ain’t dinner cause you feed me a line.
Don’t lower the bar, gift me keys to a car
I swear ya’ll tryin to keep a girl blind!
I have seen poverty
Handed down
Heirlooms
Abuse and affliction
But I tell you, little sister,
We must start a fire
Burn it down
Oppression
In the guise of assistance
Oh, I am talking revolution
Handed down
Inner fire, explosive impact
Knowledge of your worth
LikeLiked by 4 people
Thank you, Ursula. Don’t forget to send me a photo (if you’re comfortable with that) and a short bio to introduce yourself to the community. Thanks! thepoetbyday@gmail.com
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Done and done! Thank you for the prompt 🙂 fired me up!
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🙂 Thank you for coming out to play, Ursula.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ursula – beautiful poem! You have me fired up!
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TIME WILL TELL
You say you don’t
want war,
Yet happenstance
could take you there,
Like a whispered phrase
passed from one to another,
becomes a monster in the end.
Time will tell if perchance
we fall again
into another hell……..
With fear to guide them
instead of Peace….
LikeLiked by 4 people
The Answer I fear
Who are you
that seeks supremacy
by discarding your soul,
and condemning
men, women and children
in aid of your success.
Is it your fear?
Your fear of threat,
That leads you to chance?
And your sons and daughters
to starvation and death?
The Answer I fear is YES………..
-J.E.Goldie-
LikeLiked by 3 people
. no comfort .
squirm with fear and emotion, at what is written.
freeze at the next sentence, it has nothing to
do with you.
laugh yet is it with nervousness?
these are new remarks, a new way to learn.
a group of friends here, it is the new laws
that cause discomfort.
the type of coffee is reduced,
all in lower case.
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..irony..
oddly rhymes with posterity
austerity
the irony
how can they make such rigid stuff
from soft wools
take the thing then
harden it.
they say it will last a lifetime
hold its own
tradition
in the cold frozen
the code will not work,
nor will the counting with interruptions
austerity rhymes
with irony
not posterity
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in order
in order for us to afford you
a chunk of you must go to war
a chunk will return
with some chunks gone and yearn
for the nonhellish sweettimes of yore
thus we make and deploy stocks of ordnance
and our colonels and sergeants show spine
for their new marching orders
defending the borders
and plumping that fine bottom line.
LikeLiked by 5 people