Benji practices genocide
Brave new Isreal has sick laws
Is Isreal thinking rectified .
Benji thinks he is glorified
Death is a singletree- the kill nods
Benji practices genocide .
Harris loves Isreal -verified
Harris on housing I applause
Is Isreal thinking rectified.
Trump supports Benji -clarified
He think he does that for a cause
Benji practices genocide .
Stop electric car laws-petrified !
Stop outsourcing I give applause.
Is Isreal thinking rectified?
Many more not identified,
They think that their laws have no flaws,
These leaders rulings I deride ,
If they change-I am satisfied .
Did you hear Denice O'hare, In Jerusalem, for a conceptual in-exile?
We never been there, if you did not need halal meat market in Gospel!
Or how the surname truncates, contracts or folds for a benign bay, daylight...delight
And they hushed me too, they do, surely, they do!
In a Dhaka University, multi-colored panel?
For an outsourcing...villanelle?
9:39 AM
8-27-2024
Sailboats horses and carts and canal transport
Whale oil lighting and candles, salt to preserve
Meat, limited sanitation and available running
Water, all are part of a formerly more static society '
Which kept people in their national boundries.'
The emphasis seems to be on returning the
World to a typology of the above.? This being
Part of ( green agendas ) wordwide.?
Why then? Facilitate mass movements of
Humanity across borders.? If its more
Desirable for a worldwude static existence?
That will be inherent in any return to above
Practices.'
Is it just ideas.? That some people have cooked
Up after obtaining a doctorate, or other credentials
To get a million plus payment from a slush fund.?
With no real plan on how to live this out.?
I am myself quite prepared to live with limited
Technology..Yet it involves more effort, which
Would keep humans fitter.' A balance can be struck
But I dont see any cohesive drive.? I see ( a i ) and
A move to even more tech, and so called outsourcing
More desire for matterial things more waste much less
Recycling than from the 1920s to the 1980s am I
Alone in these observations? I welcome any comments.'
Soulmate outsourcing my soul...
Why our hearts are in afoul?
Silence reign in this meadowsweet house...
Divorce sheets on the bed for the delouse...
Unhouse our beloved belongings,
Unwed ourselves soulfully,
Strangers in an unhouse split...
Loving you till souls apart...
Vows are soulless promises,
Loving you till hearts depart...
The ancient regime
I was in Shanghai once during the cultural revolution
everyone mostly young people wore the same grey clothes
half military cut, not a colour in sight except for the flag.
And the book they gave everyone called “Mao´s little red book.”
where words the new China was printed, those
who argued had to confess in public and sent to a camp,
or farm this to learn to be a worker.
Of course, in this socialist paradise, we were not allowed
to go ashore and the was a guard by the gangway to be sure
we didn´t run away.
It didn´t strike anyone; it was the last thing we would do.
It couldn´t last slowly colours crept in, and women dressed
even if grey dresses, with feminist style
Today China is a state capitalist country and is doing
very well, thanks to American outsourcing (wages) making
the Midwest into a wasteland.
Love, a feeling not explained by one word or a phrase.
Outsourcing.... our pain, our commitment, our soul....to another, the feeling.... of trust, the feeling.... of no other.
Volatile at its core, twin cities drive each other. Mad. One outsourcing all its work and the other bringing it in.
Everything it does, bring life back to ones being, bring home back to a house, bring shelter back. Bring shelter back.
Infinitely we fall short, knowing that two steps are needed to progress. One from you, the other.
Surprised? Why would we be? We are immersed in hate, sadness, misery. Our minds are fixated, yearning for the moment we can FEEL. Feel.
Understanding how love is, is the truth to this world. A planet ran on hope, a society ran on destination, a pathway built upon you.
Walk out to get the mail
I get a letter from W. Fargo
They want to put my house in jail
My job doesn't give me much dough
Get up to an alarm
Go to a micromanaged job
Doing three positions at once
All those seconds to hours become a fog
I think of all the CEO's that brought this on
I'm not the only one
Millions know where this comes from
Money, money, money
Guess it's too late, it's done
Really wish that a few decades ago
When outsourcing and efficiency experts dropped in
That the generation would have had the guts
To value family over property
The fact they didn't drives me nuts
It's brought us to a depressing poverty
Dead presidents on paper are pointless
Big business should come with an ointment
I realized a while back
There's nothing more scary
Than someone with nothing to attack
So when everyone only has their families
They'll realize the greed is a ****ery
They can take my house
They can take my car
My dream was never to die with these
My loved ones,
They're what will make my heart go far
Talking head simulation
Paves my road for me
Posing plentiful blessings
Preaching a truth I must come to....
Im rotting on the wooden precipice
They want me to clean up their lawn
I'm deteriorating from lack of integration
Because love is inflated with clown faces
Reach into the pockets to prop up the game
Fortune is all self-gain
Humanism is self-ideology
Newly authorized to sell toothpaste to minors
What became of community bridging effort?
Did it collapse under the weight
Stip mining, then outsourcing for foreign tongues?
That cannot see the workings of this heart
such a strange sight the outsourcing of
careless myths strapped and carried
on the backs of skinny men.
gandi in a white sash with poor
handwriting tells of the ganges
languid mouth.
while not so far north of the ghetto by a
freeway overpass some were seen
gathering .
there under the lords bent gray elbow
carbon filled prophets with severe
phobia's look up to the sky and
wonder who to punish.
still the embryo's fall to the
earth in seed form first.
they have seen this sort of
thing before but their not talking.
They travel
Distances
To work at the new factory
At the mall
To sell
To persuade
To show
To ring up sales
To stock shelves
And keep merchandise neat and attractive.
Customers
Look
Touch
Examine
Feel and perhaps
Buy.
Standing on their feet
Workers wonder
How does an
An $8.00 an hour job
Minus benefits
Zero coverage
Negative career
Compute
In their lives?
Their parents had jobs
Some for thirty years
In a real workplace
Free from outsourcing
Goods made in China
High unemployment
And foreclosures.
The store mannequin tells workers to break it up
Back to their counters
To do what they’re being paid for
But there is much more beneath the surface of his words
A threat
Real or imagined
The workers listen
Because there is nowhere to go
Nothing else to do.
In the new economy.
The young have energy
To organize
To demonstrate
To petition
For real change
Time is on their side
For a better tomorrow.
The hoopla of Christmas has come and gone
The checkbook for that spree is overdrawn
Lord, please have mercy on me
I can already foresee
To pay Uncle Sam my dog I must pawn
Outsourcing IRS I can't condone
They linked me up to Sierra Leone
I just could not comprehend
The guy on the other end
It was a nasty discourse on the phone
This year the IRS has bled me dry
May have to mortgage the house to comply
I've searched for more deductions
But find no more reductions
It hurts to laugh and I'm too old to cry
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 6 in Carolyn Devonshire's "Taxing Times" Contest - Feb 2011
Bringing
in the sheaves,
a few days leave-
the promise of work..if
you please