disjointed rhyme

art from google

disjointed rhyme …

holding hands, we traversed the chasms of life,

hand in hand, through bleak times and strife,

holding each other in rain and in sunshine,

never letting go of your hand in mine.

we scoured the earth for a peaceful place,

where bigotry didn’t present its grotesque face,

and after all the years spent seeking,

we found nooks and crannies where racism lay reeking.

all our desires, all of our dreams,

in a gilded cage lies trapped it seems,

still we scan these lands for respite,

beyond the hate, despite the spite. 

how long will we have to walk these pathways,

seeking simple gentleness along life’s alleyways,

or perhaps there exists no such place,

across the earth,

for tolerance long ago did depart,

and yet we cannot be from each other apart,

for what we have found in each other,

the simple love of two souls merging as one whole part,

those are the truths that we have embraced in our heart …

from google

“why are you here, you filthy immigrant”

from google

“why are you here, you filthy immigrant”

why are we broken by spoken barbs,

spewing out of sewers cloaked beneath acceptable garbs,

while the blades of splintered humanity are sharpened into lethal shards,

of ‘my country right or wrong’,

under the comfortable charade,

the vulgar parade,

of clinging onto feigned piety,

dragged pitilessly along,

weaving new lies, obfuscating what is right and what is wrong,

waving flags tainted with blood, on and on, as the pain never ceases to abate,

wielding blood-soaked swords to behead, to oppress, to subjugate,

the many who have forever been on the wrong side of the fence,

the other side of the tracks,

nakedly vulnerable outside the gate,

shut out of the dream,

pummelled by untruths of working hard, doing more, and shutting up,

carrying within, the ghastly pain, a mute scream,

stuck beneath merciless clouds,

because we need the money,

the greenback,

the notes,

the coins,

the oil,

the designer innerwear that barely shrouds,

the racist cacophony of the hate-filled crowds,

the stench of putrid opulence, of festering greed,

of capital and influence and power ripping out each humane seed,

by the by, shutting out the opportunities for a better life for all,

because when love,

life,

hope,

dreams,

aspirations,

the yearning for something better,

is a lament, a plea, a beseeching call,

for respect,

dignity,

for the numberless,

always shoved down, yet standing tall,

the banished, cast away into the currents of the seas,

as every war makes human beings as you and I, like insects scatter,

viewed live on tv screens, but that does no longer matter,

to be swept along islands of stillness,

young children lying dead on pristine shores,

while the picture goes viral, and the shares, the views and the likes soars,

a child not lucky to ride the waves of random happenstance,

when just “making it to safety” is a mere throw of the dice of chance.

“so yes”,

“yes”.

“that is how I got to be here”,

the immigrant says.

art by Banksy

peace and equality?

from google

peace and equality?

when greed poisons our waters, tainting pristine nature,

when jingoism infects our minds, eroding our shared humanity,

when fanaticism corrodes our vision, seeds of division are sown,

when oppression lashes people, hate is nourished,

when prejudice spews vile invective, walls emerge between humanity,

when science is derided by obscurantism, we take a collective step backwards,

when love is bartered, emotions decay,

when flim-flam glitz is coveted, humane sentiments are sold into apathy,

when the pursuit of wealth at any cost is craved, far too many get left by the wayside,

when wars-for-profit are unleashed, killing innocents, the terror of makeshift bombs kill innocents,

when tolerance, not acceptance is preached, crevasses crisscross this common earth,

when far too many are left to scrounge for food, for dignity, the far too few are complicit,

when doctrines of us and them are promulgated, the body of the human race is splintered,

when poverty stalks the night, while slimey ostentation rules the day,

you and i,

him and her,

us all,

are dispassionately wrenched apart,

when clean drinking water is a luxury, while numberless golf courses are irrigated, the parched earth trembles,

when food is dumped to maintain profit margins, while countless stomachs never cease to rumble,

we have all failed each other.

period.

from google

“Brother, can you spare me some change?”

from google

“Brother, can you spare me some change?”

The parched and thirsty,

still walk soul-less avenues,

and alleys of want and hunger.

Empty and barren,

coursing through heartless streets of need and despair.

“Change will come”,

said the promise of Freedom and Democracy and of Capitalism with a Conscience.

“change will come in time”.

Yes.

Change comes sometimes,

when scratching through pockets and purses,

for some loose change.

Nelson Mandela