Guns, Gods & Greed

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Sowing a hideous seed, nourished with gas dug from our past.

Shoot first ask questions last. But hurry they’re going fast.

Guns, gods and greed

Suckled breast corporate laced, plastic faces our world graced.

We share with all what we waste from our piles made of haste.

Winner takes all, just make the call. Man is big the earth small.

Enemies don’t grieve, faith does not deceive.

Much to achieve, just believe.

Guns, gods and greed

The seed grown, seeds of their own, on the wind they’ll be blown.

 Or from our hands they’ll be thrown all to cast the final stone.

Spreading death, division and despair – when thrice comes to bear.

The end may be near, a warning shot we’ll never hear.

But never fear.

Guns, gods and greed

Raise our arms to the skies, pop goes the fireflies.

Screams drown out the cries.

Close your eyes daylight dies, truth within, outside lies.

We laugh at others strife. Define who’s to be a wife.

Skewer the peace with our knife.

But soon we’ll all be saved – from life.

Guns, gods and greed

The  End

Steve Kittell 2014

Hannahbelle’s Folly

RIP Gene Wilder, Thank you for years of inspiration and laugh’s 😦

 

Welcome back to Hannahbelle’s folly

where dreams broken yet most stayed jolly.

The factory was shut, tourist didn’t stay,

the impatient grew impatient for a better day.

 

Most old town folk not wanting to go

agreed to a change in the Hannahbelle show.

Their now was the present, past’s time of old,

the gooey center betwixt is this tale told.

 

It starts with Charlie, who lacked business sense.

All money made was but half his expense.

Having won the factory therefore the town,

he became a fair leader, albeit a clown.

 

Yet a kinder soul there could never be.

All hungers fed, anytime, always free.

The workers prospered with newfound wealth,

not only from raises but dental and health.

 

The village glistened, all gloom washed away.

Their Renaissance grew brighter each passing day.

Charlie married soon after, a remarkable bride,

their love for each other they couldn’t hide.

 

Hannahbelle followed within that same year.

She’s properly pampered and handled with care.

By noble decree the eldest of elders proclaimed;

In honor of Charlie the towns to be renamed.

 

A contest was held to find the best name.

Most of the entries were all the same.

The town’s new name was Hannahbelleville,

from miles around people came for the thrill.

 

With towers of brick placed one at a time

all topped with a bell for the hourly chime.

The windows sparkled, doors welcomed all.

Just step right in and we’ll all have a ball.

 

Neat lines form long to be part of the show.

There are twists and turns wherever you go.

A bib and bags are given free at the door

to save what’s left for when you want more.

 

Ponchos welcome but most haven’t a care,

sweet diversions are why they’re all here.

Where chocolate waterfalls splash at their base,

what a tasty surprise to the passerby’s face.

 

There are also cakes, cookies and candies galore.

There’s shirts and hats at the little gift store.

The shelves always stocked, but not for long,

their prices are good so sales are strong.

 

On paper everything seemed OK.,

until a new town sprouted across the bay.

This new town was grander, factory too.

They stole Charlie’s recipes, yet he hadn’t a clue.

 

They built a new park with rides big and small.

It’s better than Hannahbelles that had none at all.

The competition soon became bold and brutal.

The rivals charged half for twice the strudel!

 

Though Charlie’s reluctant to change his way,

he worked all the harder without any pay.

Then Hannahbelle’s tuition became overdue,

not just one term but quite a few.

 

She’d have to go home without a degree.

The long spring stretched, she worked as three.

Side by side the little family all toiled.

Cooking and cleaning and keeping things oiled.

 

Summer arrived and thoughts were blooming.

She had to think fast, payday was looming.

Then a plan was hatched to save the day.

She called her classmates to all have a say.

 

Her idea was shared to change their fates.

The chefs and chemists mixed heated debates.

Mathematicians integrated their permutations.

The statisticians juggled interpolations.

 

The engineers tinkered to make all precise.

Artist’s flourished to make all look nice.

A manager’s needed to book weekend bands.

Then there’s the overhead and two hired hands.

 

There are taxes, tariffs and hidden fees.

We’ve a lawyer’s retained to shoot the breeze.

Bankers were safe with their calculations.

The accountants left to balance frustrations.

 

Our writers wrote slogans, jingles and ads.

Their pieces placed in papers for new I.T. grads.

A final test given for last minute tweaks.

Then code was input by computer geeks.

 

The output emerged and everyone’s thrilled.

Soon teeth and tummies both less filled.

It’ll be safe to consume whenever you please.

They’ll never melt and cannot freeze.

 

There’s no a messy wrappers or sticky streets.

When enjoying the new Hannahbelle binary treats.

Though you will need a dongle for a spare port,

to call up our server of cheese mocha torte.

 

You can try any flavor you think to choose,

try them all, there’s nothing to loose

We’ve green apple slush and warm fuzzy peach.

There’s seven billion in all, that’s one for each.

 

Just fill in the form and enter your pin.

Sit back, relax and let the digiconfection begin.

Pay what you can, take what you need.

The business is sweet without any greed.

 

And after all the bills are paid,

what’s left is ours; it’s what we’ve made.

What was made is what we make.

What Hannahbelle makes icing on her cake.

 

Hannahbelles treats now second to none,

without competition you’ve already won.

And as the creator of all that’s digiconfectionary,

she’s thought now to be a true visionary.

 

A university was founded, tuition’s free.

Hannahbelle was first to earn a degree.

Soon she was mayor of Hannahbelleville.

She could serve for life and probably will.

 

The company grew large, built in its niche.

Everyone did well, though no one got rich.

Hannahbelle shares all her profits and good will.

So all ends happily in Hannahbelleville.

 

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Distractions

~

Oh tiny ant where do you go?

You dash and flitter to and fro

Treading over floor of wood

In search of something surely good?

.

Oh lowly ant what do you seek?

With every rise another peak

With every gap another turn

Oh tiny ant what do you yearn?

.

Burdens weigh upon your back

Up and down your random track

Your only goal to share with all

Yet chances great you will fall

.

Oh lowly ant where did you go?

There are things I need to know

In a blink you disappear

Homeward bound? Or not I fear

.

Oh tiny ant no more to see

Oh lowly ant you are me

~*~

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Final Farcical Fantasy

~

Some lyrical words to piss some off,

some will laugh, cry, scream or scoff.

It’s one man’s opinion and nothing more,

yet when the damage done there is no cure.

.

“We the people” – (unless your broke),

“life, liberty and happiness”, what a joke.

It’s freedom for some, never all,

so forget your worries at the mall.

.

The air is hot, skip the coat,

but buy a boat so you can float.

Then folic in that bobbing shit –

of vulgar words spewed by a bigot.

.

A genetic failure of mankind,

a big dyed head and little mind.

Tiny hands embracing arms,

killing more dropping bombs.

.

So follow the clown to crazy town.

Unless of course a shade of brown.

But pinheads, racist’s and sexist’s welcome,

kiss his ass and maybe get some.

.

Standing tall above us all,

to your knees and heed his call.

Feed more to that bloated girth.

Then the roach shall inherit the earth.

~*~

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