The Inkwell
from inkdrops repository at allpoetry.com
The green dollar bill
Contains a lesson for all
Who uses or spends
Hidden away silent
On its folds and its edges
Short words of caution
Lessons of learning
Delivered by the banks
In a hidden form
Prized by the many
Hoarded by the blessed few
Message for all here
The root of all evil ?
Every single greenback
Tells its own story
#Fowc #Clandestine
It started discreetly
one or two
meeting in a bar
and having laughs over what they’d do
if they were in charge
A couple of weeks later
they’d found a space
away from their office
to make their plans
Back in the bar
they sought out support
some came from the rallying cry
some had to be bought
And the offices of state
were divided among all
before notifying the ministers
in a telephone call
And away from the hubbub
the cabinet and PM
unaware of the coup
as no one told them
#fowc #belligerent
Statesmen like ? hardly
sat by his plinth, like
someone had confiscated his toy basket
all they wanted, was the facts
all they got was bluster to the max
as the virus spreaded, and reacts
reports he wasn’t listening to
positions he stuck himself like glue
his collegues wandering what to do ?
Till one day he took to bed,
and had to listen to what the doctors said,
deputy took charge, and up to bed, he fled.
#Fowc #Vapid
While the man on the telly drones on
the audience sit there – in a trance
and while you scream at the TV in utter frustration
the “experts” continue – till the crowd hear another voice
Hardly the best thing to educate the mind – but lunch has been served
#Fowc #Anyone
The ambitious young upstart
looking at his boss
watched with envy
as the boss handed out the cash
and the rest played with their building blocks
Anyone could do that! – the upstart cried
and plotted his way to his bosses seat
sending his boss to a personal hell
and soon from his position at the top – he fell
And the upstart achieved his ultimate dream
appointing his friends to his number one team
ignoring the warnings from others around
as others in chamber just listened and frowned
And while on his pedestal – making merry and all
the one before him was having a ball
pointing the finger at the ones who did push
with cautionary words – look out for the rush
#fowc #partisan
I
They never were the strongarmed type
but something had to give
as a wave of protest
moved down the main street
II
The feet moved down the tarmac
from the air they looked like the sea
The sound building like a roar
passing by the windows
III
The banners moved on forward
and chanting filled the air
till brought to a halt by the policemen
those in charge – had come prepared
An acrostic by Inky on the saying
“People in Glass Houses shouldn’t throw stones”
Sat in their opulence
A testimony to predecessors past
Your citizens watch – in amazement – and disgust
In the spectacle they see in front of them
No real solutions – just constant mud slinging
Gentlemen, ladies ? – noble servants of the house ? – hardly!
Someone younger can see the mistakes they make – but they are
Obsessed, by our foreign neighbours – ignoring the plight of the
Residents of this land – perhaps its time for a serious
Reality check. hon. members – listen to the people and earn the right to sit the next
Year you decide to stand for office
Revolutionary
an idea – that a colour could influence a change
democratic principles
inked out in radical shades of red
could it be the passions of those men and women wearing it
all across the land, that displays its colour
loud and proud ? Up and down the land ?
Perhaps now – the time for talking is over.
Rally the people behind you
Organise your grievances
Together, there’s enough of you to
Engage with the ones who are doing you wrong
Someone has to listen to you – and occasionally
Talk to you in order to hear your point of view.
Since you found the need to write it
I’ve looked over your pen – letter
Never before have I read such venom
Created by the sharpness of your quill
Even now, with your poison consumed, I question your
Real intention behind each word…Do you really care?
Expect a firestorm.
The Inkwell