Tag: Poetry

Bonus Poem: Sold Our Soul For Oil

~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

This country,
sold its soul,
for oil,
and jet-black coal.

We polluted the land
and perverted our rights,
for illusory security,
and cold, dying nights.

Were we not so young,
we might not be forgiven.
But we will not be,
unless we take action.

We watch puppet shows,
elect their prettiest lad or lass,
but they’re all the same–
a hand up their ass.

Then we let the rich
walk across our backs,
trample our faces in mud,
and drown us ‘tween the cracks,

of a system we built,
but they bought and paid for,
what shame we should feel,
despite all our labor.

So much for,
the land of the free,
and home of the brave–
if only we’d see,

that such platitudes fail,
when faced with the truth;
that rich oil barons,
and religion’s uncouth.

Until then I guess,
we’ll all have to accept,
that the rich will get richer,
by snapping our necks.

Poetry-Thing Thursday: Honor’s Task

~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

Do you know happiness?
Can you feel love’s caress?
Have you braved happenstance?
Could you learn to ballroom dance?

Is there immaturity,
in any of what you breathe or see?
Or is the wool pulled perfectly,
over your eyes with certainty?

Have you smelled the burning wood,
of a pyre set, if not you should.
Could you think of a time you’d stand,
give the down-trodden a helping hand?

Will you ever be much more
than what you’ve already been before?
If not would you open the door, walk out,
so another might enter for a bout?

Enclosed are these questions I am forced to ask,
not at gunpoint or in conceit, but as honor’s task.
If more explanation you require,
put your feet to the fire–

We all have a responsibility,
to life and world, man and country.
For it is we whom made them,
and are the only hope to save them.

Poetry-Thing Thursday: Collectively Blessed

~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

Words have little meaning,
when stripped and revealing,
naked and bleeding–
what wisdom we’re eating.

Silken smooth and pale-white,
the skin of a mistress that might,
in a wave of domination and foresight,
ensure we’re blind-folded against right.

Were we to see beyond the veil,
what it is these words truly entail,
from ignorant waters we’d sail,
to lands of knowledge we’d hail.

It is with great dignity,
we must admire shame, you see,
it is wanton and lustfully,
encapsulated with ignoramity.

Ah, but to what do we jest,
when we find the undressed,
has naught been caressed,
the tongues long repressed?

Educate them,
and in their minds hem,
the ever-brilliant gem,
of words and meaning with phlegm.

Only then can we,
be assured that we’ll see,
an end to a painful plea,
and within foster no more enmity.

So once our words are redressed–
this much to be pressed–
they’ll be no more distressed,
forever we’ll be,
collectively blessed.

Poetry-Thing Thursday: Stitch up the Seams

~ S.M. Nolan ~ 3 Comments

Lift up a pen,
to stitch up the seams,
For evil is never as cumbersome,
as beauty or dreams.

One keeps you frightened,
with heart full of dread.
The other’s enlightened.
The last one undead.

A mistress of maidens,
cloaked in the light,
for evil works best,
under cover of night.

So let your heart be like the poles,
with weekfuls of day,
emitted by pen-hand and souls,
and ink in main-stay.

Just count to ten,
then stitch up the seams.
Let ink flow til day-come,
with images, beauty, and dreams.