Friday, August 28, 2020

The Man Will Be Reluctant



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The man will be reluctant
It's been his way so long; 
he's the owner of the black-robed court, 
and he writes the *newsman's* song.

The man will be reluctant... 
forthcoming-ness bereft. 
He's kept strange info close at hand 
and teases you with it. 
And this is surely negative, 
it makes us merely fools... 
disrespected "Gammas," drones, 
or sad reactive tools.

The man will be reluctant. 
He'll surely hide from you... 
at the bottom of his castle, 
where he keeps his *craft* from view. 
Where he tinkers with the destiny 
which he dribbles out to us, 
while we wage-slave for epiphany, 
and then die as dry as dust.

The man ...will be reluctant
He may let you shine his shoes,
but ask, for cause, to see his *books*,
to be the one "outside"—you choose?


Though, it's everyone's the loser 
when you play the game like that!
He'd have you stretch your wages;
pay his taxes; make more brats!
He'd shove your nose to grindstones
so there's tooth-dust in your eyes;
he'd distract you 
from the questions asked
by lights who fill your skies!


He would slather *logic* sweetly 
to those spots gone slick with loss... 
that the dirge for which you're paying 
is the song of honest cost. 
...But nothing could be further 
from that fraud proposed as truth! 
The misery you're wailing 
is provoked by their abuse!


The man will be reluctant, 
so he keeps at beck and call? 
All the chosen of the multitudes 
he has kept, compelled ... enthralled
See, his religious arm of culture 
has convinced us that it's wrong 
to elevate humanity, 
and play a human's song.


Rather, campaigns for birthing babies 
are the order of the day! 
"The more of these you have... ...in Christ
...the more it profits... ...ME! So PRAY"!



"Keep on having all those children—
make no move to *stem* that tide, 
so we can better choose our *best*, 
and keep the rest deprived
Keep them scuffling for position. 
Keep them always wanting MORE! 
Keep them bothered—in confusion, 
under stress outside our doors"!



"Let them look at what we tell them. 
Let them suffer for our *sins*. 
Let them eat from what we feed them, 
and forget what fate portends."


The man will be reluctant, 
as he hoards his ill-got gain. 
He'll short you on the front end, 
and then make you feel his shame
He ridicules the UFO's 
which clutter honest skies, 
as they propose an end 
to his convenience, ease, and lies!


It matters not your terror, friend, 
your confusion is his tool
Why, he takes you for his property
his chattel...slack-jawed fool! 
Though it's you who heats his water
and you build his dwelling place; 
he keeps the truth apart from you, 
so he spits right in your face!



That's why the man's reluctant ... 
'cause he knows you'd be pissed off! 
Autonomy was yours, you see?  
Though, you'd been double-crossed
You labor for his slogans
and you tithe his guilt! Confess!  
...Continuing the same mistakes 
that got us in this mess!




2 comments:

Geo. said...

Dear Al, I'm pleased and strengthened by this post. Your muscular poetry is still intact and on-target. R'c'd call from Will 2 weeks ago. He's fine, staying inside from the our smokey sky, as am I. Hope you're doing well too. --Geo.

Alfred Lehmberg said...

10-4 and roger, Sir!