Poetry floating among shadows of disillusionment.
Words churning imprisoned upon the subconscious.
Dormant fangs of venom hibernating so petrified,
Exterior stature of resilience riding a nightmare.
Words that indict a poet upon contact with paper,
Words that cannot see daylight, nor the stars.
Words that must never be repeated into another,
Words that must evaporate inside its creativity.
American conservative corporate employment,
Where employees are willingly led servants.
Never exposing the nakedness of their minds,
But cowering for paychecks of conforming rules.
Artistry of the independent American home lost,
Culture of Human Resources creative accounting,
Censorship for expressing liberal free speech,
Politics of never questioning but marching in step.
Complain about politicians, lobbying five star treats.
Ceo’s dictating down a chain of command, silence,
Warning that free speech is for the unemployed
That words in your home are grounds for dismissal.
Hurricane truth be damned, Washington was exquisite.
Iraq is such a success, if it was not for liberal papers.
We must do something, merging them to our cause.
Our meetings will segregate loyal devoted Americans.
Soon the masses of employed will reign supreme.
Armies cloned only to work for the bosses benefit,
Industrial slaves for the country club fraternity.
Who serve the White House Mansion of the Judge.
Note: While I was employed, I was told to be quite about things that were happening in America. I was told that I could not write poetry in my home, nor post on the Internet that others wanted me to quit writing free verse poetry. So as an American I was terminated for writing poetry and regained my unemployed Freedom and Democracy. While my paychecks are very artistic in design, I chose this path that insured the hardship of reality but would give me the greatest wealth inside my heart. I pray for the day when artists again will be allowed to paint the day red, white, and blue, never fearing the censorship of employment.
I really was terminated for writing poetry, they told me that I need not tell anybody but I must never fear the truth. I wish them well, but hope they never terminate a person as a poet again, when it is the greatest love they have to offer, and their greatest pleasure. It is like terminating someone as a Christian, saying they cannot practice it in their own homes, because someone was offended over it.
In Afghanistan, when one converts to Christianity they receive the death sentence, I wonder what they get for becoming a poet?
D.Lester 03/22/06 ©
De-Terminated poet, somewhere in America not on company time.