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Wednesday, February 24, 2010

hunger draft

(This was inspired by Charles Dickens "A Tale of Two Cities)

She was fair, had a certain air, walked every where, strove to care,

yet the hunger lay in the streets, yes the hunger lay in the streets.

New faces, new places, they travel each day, searching for redemption, revival, anything.

They have left the land of no hope, for the American dream so fair, a sure thing you bet, they have left, they have left with a hope and a dare.

yet the hunger lay in the streets, yes the hunger lay in the streets.

Onward citizens, onward, search for the elusive medal, nugget, hope, hope!

Faces of gaunt children, hair receding hope retreating. Down at the bank, down at the store, there is hunger.

hunger in the streets, yes the hunger that lay in the streets.

Then a cry, faint in its beginning faint who would have guessed the ignominy that they suffer, as their hopes fail them. Stark reality, freedoms tossed as they do what they must to survive.

Ho then congressman! Ho then tax man! We have no bread to tax, take pity!

They lay, corpses in their chairs, their lives have ceased as they stare out the window, glossy eyed.

Who will give them breath again? Breath, sigh, their children cry,

On you we rely!

Yet words and tears fall on deaf ears, silent fears, wasted years.

Yearning rising, yearning boom, fought for and paid on the backs of laborers, searching, searching for newer and better.

Onward upward bless this house. Stretch forth and cry, enemies of my heart!

I will fight for the freedom of singing in the streets.

Many generations have passed, they knew and took for granted upward progression.

Ignominy they thought could never last, all deserve 15 min. of fame, so they say.

Nameless faceless masses stand
crying hallelujah let us live!

But

How do you carry forward the waters of life, when it is slowly leaking away? Your shelter was built, your life was planned, yet now you have no place to stay.

You wander in hunger, for heaven to send, redemption for what you have done, your fears, your tears and all of the years, you have worked and you've bled on the throne.

The throne of deception, the throne of desire you added more to it and your hopes they rose higher. So you worked and you planned and all of your dreams, they were dashed in the sand on the streets,

where hunger lay in wait, yes the hunger lay there.

Hearts have stilled with the news,

In the streets there is a hunger, a preponderance of insanity as lies are told and swallowed, there is nothing to fear.

No one has listened, who knows what the silence means yet it lingers.

A presence is felt the grim reaper himself, Charon awaits, there is hunger in the streets it is there.

With each stone that falls from the foundation, unheeded, each step in the sand an illusion. Each stone that falls from the walls as you walk down the streets of desertion. Your grasping for something, grasping, grasping...

and the children they cry in the streets, yes their children they cry in the streets.

1 comment:

  1. The imagery here... is... well... I don't have enough words to express... how do you manage to do this with every single poem of yours? Prose in poetry... love this style! I do it a lot myself... well, you know that already... hehe... ;)

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