Foreclosure Packing
Vietnam era workers,
three bedroom brick,
and a basement...
laid off, sold off,
401k gone....
Buick in the drive,
repossessed!
foreclosure packing,
Kent State and Nixon,
Reagon's America....
financial moral collapse.
the smell of napalm lingers
in houses left empty!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Tower That Ate People
There's a bump in the basement
There's a knocking on the wall
In the pumping of the pistons
I swear I heard you call
There's a bump in the basement
There's a hole in the floor
There's a guard in the garden
Locking up the door
There's a rumble in the floorboards
No shutting out the sound
And the workers down below me
Digging underground
Feel the building all around me
Like a wrap of armoured skin
But the more we are protected
The more we're trapped within
Tell it like it is
Till there's no misunderstanding
When you strip it right back
Man feed machine
Machine feed man
Tell it like it is
Till there's no misunderstanding
You make up what you like
Man feed machine
Machine feed man
?
Brick by brick by brick by brick we're building
Brick by brick by brick by brick we're building
Brick by brick by brick by brick we're building
Brick by brick by brick by brick we're building
Brick by brick by brick by brick we're building
Brick by brick by brick by brick we're building
song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Karmic Revolution!
Reagon babies lying dead
on the Middle East sands....
oil battles there, even to
South America!
American workers stand in line
to buy the goods they lost jobs to...
bailing out the banks
with more borrowed money!
more Chevy's sold in China,
than are sold here!
Japan's Hiroshima cars
flood the market...
their kids stay in school,
their workers have jobs!
yet still whaling, and nuclear disaster!
terrorists steal planes,
or get elected to office....
trading clean water for oil,
and the profit is high!
the houses built by
the Hollywood president...
now stand vacant,
owned by banks that are owned!
and we stand in the street,
with nothing left to lose....
following in the footsteps
of our brothers and sisters...
in Epypt, in China, in Libya....
wherever they fight...
for freedom, equality, and a chance!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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JFK Jr’s Hate America Poem
Imagine yourself at age 15,
And you the son of a President
Of the United States of America.
Would you have written this hymn of hate,
About the country your father served in war,
And the country he died for in Dallas?
Does this say what a Democrat is?
No wonder God took his life
Before he could further ruin this country
This poem of his was written
To be sung to the tune of
“America the Beautiful”
“Oh lovely land of racial lies,
Of crooked ways to fame,
From Kent State to Sharon Tate
We’re proud to bear thy name.
America, America, God spared his grace on thee.
From atom bombs to nuclear arms be proud of U.S.A.
And though you’re bad, we love you mad
You taught us right and wrong
Just look at Vietnam and the trouble that we cause
America, America God looks at us from high
To guide us by our forefathers cry,
Just like Jerry Ford.”
poem by Robert Founder
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From Vietnam To America
In Houston, men killed their own children,
In Saigon, boys killed and robbed
Got life in prisons.
Right here, wives left their husbands...
And mourned their children's deaths,
Over there, girls sold their bodies
Every nights on streets.
From Vietnam,
Do my people have to pay that much,
For the stupid Communists and "United,"
To America,
Do my people have to pay that much,
From the sake of freedom and dollars,
From Vietnam to America,
Do my people have to go that far?
poem by Thanh Nguyen
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Empty Old Houses
Empty Old Houses
Empty old houses can talk…
But one must know how to listen…
to hear them
Empty old houses have stories…
But one must be eager to listen…
to hear them
Empty old houses can suffer..
But one must have empathy …
To feel it
Empty old houses can feel pain
But one must be able to bear it …
To feel it
Empty old houses have memories
But one must believe … that they have…
To share them
Empty old houses contain people’s lives
But one must believe…that they do…
To share them
Empty old houses can seem dead and deserted
But one must know that they’re not..
To know them
Empty old houses can teem with life’s pleasures
But one must walk through
to sense the aura of life
Empty old houses abound in life’s treasures
But one cannot help but…
To admire them
poem by David Whalen
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America Cries
America cries.
Her economy dies.
Killed by people you can't trust.
America cries as we bite the dust.
America cries. Now come the whys.
No one could see it?
You've got to be kidding.
America cries as the Neros were fiddling.
The capitalist system is so out of hand.
The capitalists have taken over our land.
What's left for us?
Not much you see
except more taxes for you and for me.
Lending and spending, spending and lending,
the crying and weeping will be never-ending.
America cries and says its goodbyes
to times of financial prosperity.
The financial sting that's played like a game
stock market crashes?
foreclosures to blame?
No. America you played into the hands.
They've dumbed us down so no one understands.
America cries. Where were the wise?
They left long ago and will not return.
America cries for she refuses to learn.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Brick Layer
Menacing thoughts invade this good
I thought I was cured.
Guess I missed the double blink,
of deceptions, 'sure'
Pessimist gesture from television,
I thought I changed the channel.
Guess its karma paying a visit,
infecting my precious cable.
Concrete legs and gravel hands,
is this my true reflection?
Sanities chisel above my head,
brick layer bows laughing.
His mixture hidden, outside relief,
a close friend supplies him.
A friend that tends to all his needs,
brick layers defensive.
This house almost completed,
my will grows weak,
brick layer's drive
thrives in me.
Karma on the television,
what else am I to do,
guess I'll watch an episode,
of 'what not to do'
Brick layer fetches his mixture,
from close friend, conscience.
Gives him state of mind in return
to keep me from asking.
In the confines of the basement,
with a television possessed,
I kneel on my concrete knees
and crawl towards the steps.
Beneath unfinished ceiling,
I see an opening.
Sanities chisel dangles,
left unattended.
Pushing myself up,
with heavy, gravel hands,
I grab the chisel brick layer left,
his king now in check.
Listening for a silence above,
holding breath within,
Brick layer is oblivious,
to his chisel breaking skin.
Cracking the concrete and gravel casts,
I stand on weary feet.
Regain my balance and dust my limbs,
of brick layers defeat.
Down the stairs, now at the door,
brick layer is frantic.
Deprived of purpose, and will to constraint,
his motives are desperate.
Laying his bricks in attempts to withhold me,
he knows it's his death.
His chisel, his king
betrays him once more,
and breaks his coward back.
No longer do I live below,
in the basement of mind.
A new occupant, now makes his home
in the basement, confined.
Brick layer can be heard at times,
yelling at the television.
Karma's reruns seem to bother,
any hopes of redemption.
poem by Mathieu Hotte
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I went to Kent State basically to avoid going to Vietnam, I had no idea what I was doing in the world. I was lost, and trying not to get into a fight every day.
quote by Mark Mothersbaugh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From Greece To Rome (Part Two)
it took the civil rights movement,
the women's movement,
and the laborer's movement...
led by such as Cesar Chavez,
Martin Luther King, Malcolm X,
James Baldwin, Maya Angelou,
just to mention a few.
imprisonment, beatings, marches,
and many are dead now,
sacrificed to the cause.
JFK warned of secret societies,
wanted to pull out of Vietnam...
his brother Bobby stood up
for justice against the wheel...
both killed by the machine.
over 40,000 killed in Vietnam,
riots in the cities of America.
Nixon lied, America fell into stupor,
and those who believed
became part of the masses.
yet now, a turn for the worse!
/continued/
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Wars of Kenny Marchant and George W. Bush
Hiding during the Vietnam War,
You are now both supporters of Iraq gore!
Perfectly content,
Others' lives to be spent!
Course America now must stay,
Real American values you both betray!
Into another hopeless morass,
Totally ignoring your own obscure Vietnam pasts!
Expect history not to be kind,
Sidesteppeing Vietnam service to later have America maligned!
poem by Hubert Wilson
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Long Live America!
you stole their lands
with whiskey and Bibles,
buried their desecrated women
in open graves.
shouted, 'long live Bush,
and weapons of mass destruction'.
grovelling in brick houses,
with chevrolet drives.
sent your sons to executions,
sold your daughters on the block.
and prayed at night for white redemption,
beneath the flag that bore your name.
long live America,
close the borders, patrol the skies.
eating day old bread in empty rooms,
shuddering at the sound of shadows!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Made In America
went to the funeral
this morning...
men and women of all ages,
all backgrounds, all colors,
stood in line to pay respect.
workers, laid off workers,
workers without hope
of a job....
we viewed the body,
the preacher said kind words,
bringing back memories...
then to the graveyard.
buried beneath an old tree
in a corner soon forgotten...
the headstone read:
Made In America!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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You're so goddamned concerned about the civilians, and I don't give a damn. to Secretary of State Henry Kissinger on civilian casualties in Vietnam
quote by Richard Milhous Nixon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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More than half the combat deaths in Vietnam occurred after Richard Nixon was elected on a promise to bring the war to an end, and after the American people had already decided that they did not want one more soldier to die in Vietnam.
quote by Raul Grijalva
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Even The Stars Cannot Weep!
the Vietnam vet,
his plant shut down,
too old and crippled to hire.
draws just enough
to pay half the rent,
sleeps with one eye open.
tossed by napalm dreams,
and Nixon's lies...
bourbon, god, and country...
his heart skips a beat,
his penis flees to Canada,
waiting for burial and bugles!
the heroin ghost
on the paint peeled steps,
watching the shuckers and the jivers.
old woman gone,
cancer struck...
ashes on the mantle.
a broke down chevrolet,
a needle and a spoon...
back to the black,
the pavement calls....
life just aint worth living!
making the sign of the cross
on the Kennedy's graves.....
clutching a picture of Martin Luther King..
America died, who gives a damn?
even the stars cannot weep!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Richie Rich Buys Your Repossessed Houses
beware the politician who says
he won't let your salaries be raised
because it would cause inflation
any real politician worth his salt would know
when millions are having houses repossessed
due to unemployment no salary no food it blows
desperate times need desperate aid measures
we should all hate politicians who demand
we citizens must all tighten our poor belts
while government exempt votes themselves hot pay raises
buys up cheap white hot property belonging to citizens
richie rich buys repossessed houses at cut throat prices
poem by Terence George Craddock
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American Flag
i've had mixed feelings
about the American flag
ever since they lowered it
for President Kennedy...
it took a beating during
the civil rights movement.
and then there was Vietnam,
all the atrocities, the lies,
the wasted deaths...
the marches, the protests,
the Kent State killings...
and the flag was burned
in anger, and i understood
the anger
and now the corporate takeover,
the loss of human rights,
the loss of dignity, and hope
how many deaths does it take?
JFK, Robert Kennedy, Martin Luther King
forty thousand plus in Vietnam
how many in the lying oil wars
in Iraq and Afghanistan?
how many homeless and jobless
does it take?
how many migrant workers treated
like animals?
how many old people have to lose
the benefits they've worked for?
and i think back to my old hero,
Thomas Jefferson what would he say?
maybe something like this:
'the real American flag isnt made of cloth,
it's drawn on the backs of the American workers.
male and female of all races and religions,
the people that built this country
the heart blood of this country.
when you put these people down
with your greed, your lies, your apathy
then you lower the flag.
and it can never be raised again
till all Americans walk heads up together
with hope till all have an equal opportunity
to live and be in freedom
until such day you have no flag! '
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Empty Boxes
woke up to Voltaire
and Tolstoy, black coffee,
and cigarettes....
heavy fog on a crooked road,
Christmas lights blinking,
and a dead stillness....
the moan of empty houses,
empty factories, empty streets,
and the whisper of children,
food stamps hung in their stockings!
an old stray cat waiting to be fed,
and the heaviness of the mongrels,
left to work the streets.
somewhere bells are ringing,
right here not the scent;
a cross painted on a brick wall,
empty boxes blown by the wind!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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I'd rather use the nuclear bomb...Does that bother you I just want you to think big, Henry, for Christ's sake. to Secretary of State Henry Kissinger on escalating the Vietnam War
quote by Richard Milhous Nixon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thank the Light Workers
Thank the Light Workers that shine their light
Thank the Light Workers who set this realm right.
Earth was almost at a point of total collapse
now we made it through 2012
and 2013 almost here at last.
Light Workers saved the ocean from that oil spill
prayer was sent by many people because sea life ill.
Sea life heard the prayers and went to an island faraway
it was recorded as phenomenal to this very day.
Thank the Light Workers once again
and Thank yourself my dear friend
Thank also the all the Angels in heaven.
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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