jaded hypocrisy

in Hearst’s day every
paper directional slant
part and parcel with
edited power agenda to
conquer public opinion
and foster deregulation
allowing business to
flourish richly like a
rosebud in manure
every pie apportioned
per quid pro quo
only controversy
when public servant
bucked tradition
and stood for the
common working man
a label dismissed as
anarchist then communist
standing in the way
of progress and wealth
was/as/always un-American

Controversy: ORIGIN late Middle English: from Latin controversia, from controversus ‘turned against, disputed,’ from contro- (variant of contra- ‘against’) + versus, past participle of vertere ‘to turn.’

Conquer: ORIGIN Middle English (also in the general sense ‘acquire, attain’): from Old French conquerre, based on Latin conquirere ‘gain, win,’ from con- (expressing completion) + quaerere ‘seek.’

Label: ORIGIN Middle English (denoting a narrow strip or band): from Old French, ‘ribbon,’ probably of Germanic origin and related to lap1.

my stump is higher than yours

lofty ideals, less breath for all
echoes of past -isms elicit
mocking denunciations, paid-off politics
inclusiveness surrounded by barbed wire
squeezed out, breath-less
consumers pretend to give thanks,
stash hopes under bed, display
fears in colored strings
lights flash keep-away
huddled masses breathe last

ORIGIN mid 17th cent.: from Latin elicit- ‘drawn out by trickery or magic,’ from the verb elicere, from e- (variant of ex-)‘out’ + lacere ‘entice, deceive.’

The Daily Post prompt
The d’Verse Poetry prompt in Quadrille form of 44-words.

better you than me

“Tough luck pal”

last whistle of my shift
avoided my eyes
tossed clothes in the locker
scared times for the guys

into the slick summer heat
the guard shack ahead
lot empties more every year
soon a lonely bed

echoes linger of laughter
poor made her queasy
too hard to swallow the truth
vodka was easy

sold off the furniture
very little left
foreclosure sale next week
gun has heft

horizon ahead of the wheels
wind ruffles my hair
distant dreams offering faint hope
silver screen is there

Rust Belt rusted long ago

“Layoffs”

Steel town lay still
under skies swollen
gray blast furnace
cold and dark hills
white with snowed weeds
rattling in bitter wind
flapping red for sale sign
on ragged screen door
rhythmically thumping
lonesome whistle blows
refuse skittering down main street.

“Part 2”

Blue steel town
under low skies swirled
Gray blast furnace
cold dark hills streaked
White wash houses
old dirty refuse stacked
Black coal dust
high chimney whistle rusted
Brown river bank

so you wanna give up?

meandering streams
deeply fractured dreams
crashed beacon flashes distress
disrupt gentle flow
rapids drop below
dashed upon rocks of progress

progressively sharp
stout conscience does harp
fight hard for what you believe
injustice persists
official lie twists
leaders will always deceive

For the d’Verse prompt today, it is the alouette, created by Jan Turner, that consists of two or more stanzas of 6 lines each, with the following set rules: Meter: 5, 5, 7, 5, 5, 7. Rhyme Scheme: a, a, b, c, c, b

the truth was murdered today

many would argue
died long ago
never really embraced
shunned from ribbon cuttings
truth was always the
poor relation to
deceit
survived on handouts
reduced to begging
late night shows
laugh track
a punch line
left to expire
bludgeoned by corporate greed
political smears
truth was found bleeding
in the plaza
onlookers
smart phones burst into flame
as did hoverboards
despite surveillance cameras
perfunctory investigation
no suspects found
the official cause of death
apathy

shop til you drop

The references to past personages in relation to pre-computer generations has a direct correlation to the total number of said personages recognized by persons of a certain age without prompting to Google for references, thus the conclusion can be drawn that the per-computer generations, were in fact mesmerized by television, and chose lifestyle choices based on personages who became famous through exploits on said television. Advertising bought into this lifestyle by portraying an alternative to the drab and dreary life lead by the average viewer if said viewers would only purchase the latest and greatest life changing doohicky, endorsed by the latest and greatest hero/heroine of the moment.

Today’s generation of course has been ruined anew by advertising portraying that the past generations were slackers and ruined the world due to excessive consumption, thus the urgent need to consume what’s left before it is too late.

slaves for sale: auction today

Authors note: As a writer and a poet I believe I have an obligation to bring light into the dark corners of human existence. I do not and will not ever accept the dominion of evil over the goodness that is possible when people refuse to accept hopelessness. Please visit d’Verse Open Link Night for more poets at the pub.

“The Middle Passage remains a stain upon the waters”

to see, to touch the past, is, unfortunately
impossible
even a headstone
a shackle, a slave cabin upon the fertile soil of the Delta does
not
does not reach out and throttle the now
but…
however,
a picture, of an ancestor, a stern slave holder
who raped your great-great-great grandmother
that, that creates a churning acid reaction, all the
more potent
for being two centuries later
in the abstract, chickens and cows and Negroes
as property,
tabulated economics fueling westward expansion
labor needed here
laborers, in abundance here
here,
being Africa, there
being the Americas,
both North and South of the equatorial demarcation
and not all black skinned at that,
poor white indentured
slaves as well
but…
however,
demand -i.e. White planters and the Five Civilized Tribes in the South,
White merchants and whalers in the North
Iberian hidalgos, descendants of conquistadors
spread like molasses across a continent
they all met supply in the
warring Black rulers of Africa
the Arab traders shifting from local dhows to cargo
more profitable than
rum and sugar and ivory and gems
Dutch and English, American and Portuguese,
a trail of blood chumming the Triangular Trade,
French wine and Liberté
Highland wool and Spanish steel
all profited, all suffered
the records of Lloyd’s in London,
deeds of transfers scoured
seeking names not recorded
births not celebrated
marriages not sanctified
cultures destroyed and yet
out of the perished millions there arose
jazz
creole
rap
a pride in being black
being a victim, no longer enough
yes, this marks the resting place of a slave and
yes
this is my ancestor, my family, my tragedy, my heritage
my land
my history
my right
my duty to look at the past and say that the
Middle Passage
never ended
never began
that slavery remains an ever present evil under heaven
in America
in India
in Thailand
in North Korea
in every single country
evil men and women
enslave others
while we blithely consume products made by slaves
and look away with disinterest

chasing the boom

“The long ride to nowhere”

gasping tires rolled west over baked gray asphalt
road daze
horns blown
cars whizzed past, a deep depression made worse with every mile
entering a dry county
pull off
service station empty, black hose pulses gasoline
not quite as expensive as milk, or soda
lips moisten, gulp energy drink
aftertaste of mango and pineapple
sun setting
each interchange
boxy plants disgorged workers
many laid-off
clutched plaques and pots
stunned expressions, tear stained silk, steady stream headed to hardship
another summer waned
gasping tires rolled west as one appeared followed by five zeroes

a pushcart called desire

“You can only pick one”

an impossible choice
will always dart left, the other
reliably veers right
maybe a wobble, a squeak
charts a frustrated course
weaves between
hyperbolical slogans
and outrageous promises
weighed down
piled to the gills
advertised bargains
glossy spin
slick campaigns
overflow with bounty
and honeyed
dreams
until the bill
comes due

But
on the streets
a faulty shopping cart
to the homeless
always has value

The Daily Post prompt