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November 24, 2014

Land of Plenty. {Poem}

landoplenty

Big Brother, my Democracy:

We the People—a Monstrosity!
We share this land,
Who you are, so I am;
But this Red and Blue dichotomy,
It’s a war of ideology.

This illusion of divergence:
Propaganda for control!
Mass Media hails its brimstone,
As the sheep discard their soul.
Upheaval and unrest
Hide political corruption.
Ignorance litters the location,
And decorates for the destruction.
Pride boasts in fire and bursts in air,
But always driven with discontent;
The contemporary servitude,
Enslaved by establishment…

Once established by enslavement,
Raping amber fields of freedom;
Now atop a hill of pavement,
Sheltered in our shiny kingdom.
Swollen from the gorge,
Having stolen from the Native;
Dignity we often forge
Keeping our conscience captive.
Inspire masses with incentive,
Feed the ego, starve the spirit.
So productive and inventive,
[Cha-Ching] Consumerism, can you hear it?

Until intent becomes regret
And good intentions can repent,
Slowly, surely we forget
We can’t undo the time we’ve spent!
Disbelief, to where it went;
Nothing to show but malcontent.

And all the many things we buy!
All the excess we posses,
Smothering the hearts of men,
Shriveling the flesh.
Filling voids with rooms of shoes,
Packing rooms like rats,
Home-shopping as a pastime,
Hoarding debts, collecting cats!
Popping pills for all occasions,
Nipping, tucking, better asses.
Stacking suburbs like recyclables,
Building boxes on greener grasses.

Built by the machine;
Guilt by association.
Cannot keep your hands so clean,
When the Machine becomes your nation.
The cold hard truth about it is,
It’s dark and hot and real!
Beneath it is a bleeding earth
And above it is iron and steel.
Towering high, scraping the sky,
Shattering stars and peace of mind,
That fall from grace like shards of glass,
And truth for few to find.

We dress our blues to the nines,
Go out, get drunk on straight lament.
Lose our rhythm as we bide our time,
We can’t remember, but can’t forget:
The essence of humanity:
Dissipating in its calamity.

 

 

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Author: Rochelle Loren Hingley

Editor: Renée Picard

Image: Original artwork via Brandon Hingley

 

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