The temples of Mammon are on fire. As they burn this poem, a performance piece, seems more prescient than ever. It is ironic that the politicians, bankers and bond traders who thought they could create money using alchemy or like gamblers in a debt casino win it on the turn of a card can now only watch as the euro and the dollar collapse. Thus we teeter on the brink of the debt crisis, act 3
The dogma of the High Street temple
echoes in the hallowed, hollow halls
of crowded malls:
consume, consume. Greed is good.
Its understood that debt enriches us
Sign away your home, take out a loan
and buy, buy, say bye - bye
to your security, it’s good
for the economy, promotes prosperity
even though your life is wasted,
your hours and days are confiscated.
Each transaction compounds a pact;
sign away your power to act
independently. Who needs to be free
when you can belong to
The towers of the Holy City
shine white against a greenback sky,
we wonder why
we let the city conspire to constrain
our freedom and humanity.
Vanity aided the deception,
self - deceived we ignored the lies
let control - freaks evade detection
and bind our eyes.
The demigods who populate,
the high rise halls, enclosed by walls
of secrecy play roulette,
high rollers gambling with fate,
raise the stakes, grant themselves rewards.
Salaries rip through the stratosphere,
leave orbit, head for distant galaxies,
in rarefied reality all is distorted,
contorted, aborted. Sense melts,
then comes the crash that follows any high.
Buy, buy, buy
trade is the hook and growth the goal,
don’t hedge your bets when you’re on a roll.
So long as the reckoning can be deferred
risk is transferred, consequence will
trickle down, away from the frauds,
hucksters and fakes
to those who pay for the mistakes;
the underclass, the biomass.
No voice is raised in their defence,
to fight their cause would make no sense,
dispense with social conscience
to each according to desire to succeed
from each according to their need.
Greed is the creed.
Minimum Wage Scam
Economy Of The Living Dead
A Future Of Medieval Serfdom
Making money out of misery
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|Reviewed by Lois Christensen
|Me shop, not often, just go get whatever I need at that time and leave the store and other things behind. Got to the point I can do with less and be happy. I make my own happiness and not depend on things to make me happy.|
|Reviewed by Ian Thorpe
The Beatles? Now that would be a triumph!
But you are going to get Brother Bastion singing it. I must send you a couple of the songs he has written from my lyrics.
|Reviewed by Janet Caldwell
|This makes me think the 'Beatles' should be singing it. The rhyming is great and the alliteration is perfect. You are a very gifted man Ian.
Love, Janet xoxoxo
|Reviewed by E T Waldron
|Well written Ian, but in my perspective you showed religion for the greedy creed it is, in many instances. so you belie the facts., by saying it isn't about religion. However, Creator takes no delight in humanity's religion!
|Reviewed by john zimmerman
|Sounds like a religious poem to me. The High Church of Mammon ...
(A reading from the book of the blessed market:
altruistic consumption at a $ down and a $ a week. -- Store up for yourself treasures on earth.. you cannot serve mammon and liberation)
You've managed to maintain the tone and theme through out a relitively long poem -- no easy feat