Poets Against Inequality, Page 5

  she’s been raped, and plundered, enslaved to a job that takes more than it gives.

  Cain swings by with a cane, manicured nails, spotless suit

  mumbling orders with a mouthful, red sauce dripping all over his hands

  his fattened calves for children runabout kicking some workers playfully

  their delightful laughter trailing.

  But still he cuts so deep,

  In a ceaseless assault, consolidating all he can,

  Sinking his claws deeper,

  their children are robbed of a deserving future, for there’s nothing left to hope for

  behind closed doors, they are pawns

  only squabbling. Lazarus’s descendants,

  they grope in the dark, searching for a way

  but hemmed in, with an infinite debt burden,

  they sprawl tugging at the helm of his white trousers

  if he kicks by mistake, it’s not his fault really.

  Bharati Nayak, India

  What A Shame!

  We have travelled to Moon and Mars

  We are to conquer many more stars

  With the blessings of science and human brain

  So much progress we have made in material gain

  Man has this world’s treasure under his feet

  Still his greed for more remain insatiated

  He sends rockets and spacecrafts to explore more

  While people on this earth die of poverty and hunger

  Calling mankind developed is only a sham

  As all knowledge of man has failed to solve a simple problem

  Why poor man’s labor selling so cheap

  Why rich man’s labor selling rich

  Why poor man’s life so cheap

  Why rich man’s life so rich

  What a shame!

  We can’t solve a simple equation

  We can’t equate rich and poor

  We can’t stop rich getting richer and poor getting poorer

  We can’t bridge the widening gap

  As the fate of billions controlled by few hands

  What a shame!

  All of man’s knowledge

  Have gone down the drain.

  Mohammed Asim Nehal, India

  Barbie Doll

  In a beautiful red dress, curly hairs nicely combed, white shoes, a

  tiny girl gets down from a golden car, with a Barbie doll in her hands.

  Drops into a vegetable vendor, who has small girl too, wearing an

  old blue dress full of patches and dirt on it, hairs like wild grass.

  No shoe just vegetables beside.

  She says, “Dad, look at my counterpart: she's wearing

  a nice dress and has a Doll"

  Dad says, “Honey, it is of no use, we have no safe place to keep her,

  the dog might take it. Play with your vegetables".

  Ah, Barbie doll! Drops from those tiny hands and break into pieces.

  So the drops from those little eyes.

  "I have the best", says muddy girl to her dad with a kiss and big hug.

  Stephen Pennell, UK

  Sixty Two People

  Sixty two fat cats hold tight on their riches.

  The poorest of people have to make do with scraps from the table.

  Yet in a slum of a work place,

  The seamstresses eyes strain

  Sewing in labels of companies so famous to name as it would cause

  Them to so much shame.

  If only the bosses would stop dodging taxes

  And pay decent wages to the lads and the lasses.

  Schools can't teach children who are working in kitchens.

  If only our Governments would show some conviction

  To banish the world of injustice and victimization!

  Sarah Louise Persson, UK

  Inequality Is Living

  The little girl sits on the ground by a hut,

  No toilet to use and no bed to lay down on,

  A picture of innocence lives in hardship each day,

  No government to care or waste time on.

  Just a few miles south it's so different,

  The rich politicians have mansions,

  They have Dr's and plenty of good food to eat,

  They get anything they want, asked no questions.

  The girl she walks miles for her water each day,

  The container she straps to her back,

  The child has no Dr to clean up deep cuts,

  While the wealthy just turn on their tap.

  With no education and with infertile soil,

  The rich throw away food they'd eat,

  They all rely on the aid that we send them,

  Interception means, once again, defeat.

  Take a look at the child with the flies in her eyes,

  Can't they see that there's no justice there,

  Their wealth is their greed and it's staining their hearts,

  One would think that no one was aware?

  So while the rich man has fast cars,

  And indulges in wine,

  The poor man is watching his young children die,

  The injustice itself is a crime.

  Dominic Prempeh, Ghana

  Fateless Souls on the other side

  Our world is unfair; to us, those on the other side

  We are born into automatic slavery and servitude

  And raised in hardship and rugged life

  We trail a hallucinatory and unachievable hope

  For we have imaginary parents

  And we never envisage what tomorrow has for us.

  Care, comfort, solidarity and harmony are mere dreams to us

  And the concept of family is meaningless to our feeble ears.

  We feed on scanty leftovers

  Semi-Clothed; Mockery and injustices rain on us

  We sleep on mats and pillow-less ragged cloths

  And every morning greets us with ailments and problems.

  Paleness, dirt-laden, and bare-footedness envelope us

  In an everyday life of pain, fear and tears

  Three doomsters we have come to know and unconsciously befriend.

  Poverty and paucity stricken life is our portion

  Affluence is a mirage to our feeble thoughts

  And, education becomes a wild fantasy we might never have.

  Our call for mayday in mayhem always reaches no ear,

  Who up there wants to listen to us or come closer?

  No one; for they would be tagged as ‘some of us’

  We live like there is everlasting life here

  But deep within

  We fear we can be ‘swept away’; any time, any day.

  Marianne Larsen Reninger, USA

  Unfortunate Soul

  They say, “PTSD, Alcoholism,

  A Druggie,

  Don’t let him take advantage,

  Don’t let him fool you.”

  Him with his cardboard sign–

  Food please, Work please..

  But your heart tugs, you

  Swallow hard,

  You don’t want to ignore

  Him and keep on going.

  You imagine, bills in his hand,

  Sandwich for his pocket,

  Maybe a direction card

  For the nearest shelter.

  They say, “At least he’s free

  In this land of milk and honey.

  Don’t let him fool you,

  Him with his cardboard sign.”

  And the light turns green,

  And we drive on..

  Govinda Rimal, Bhutan

  Blooming with inequality

  I reamed your eye for tear

  This tear is salty,

  The more I drink, the more I am thirsty.

  I tore your heart for pleasure,

  This pleasure is crazy,

  The more I desire, the more I am greedy.

  My knowledge bought this wealth

  From that poor slave,<
br />
  My wealth bought this ego

  From that rustic mind.

  My coffer, I glorified;

  but, grave is still barren.

  Money, death is ranting me,

  Reply him before I die.

  I was blind,

  Before the dew of sympathy dropped upon

  The bleak heart,

  I was unequal,

  Before the wisp of equality, dwelled

  The worthless mind.

  __________

  Author's note:

  Inequality is a plague to Mankind. The unlimited wealth of a few is no good to human society. Nobody can buy eternity.

  Jan Ross, UK

  The shelter

  I remember his arrival, trying to wrap my

  Imagination around his story, horrified

  To hear some kids had set fire to him

  Sleeping, exhausted, in the park.

  Filthy, overgrown nails, skin and bone,

  Though you wouldn't know it, underneath

  His matted coat, beyond desperate, found

  Sleeping in bins underneath the cold

  Concrete staff stairwell of the local hotel.

  Tonight, I bring his supper to the lobby,

  We are so full, his warm brown eyes,

  Embarrassingly grateful, meet mine.

  I soften my gaze and gentle my hand

  To greet him.

  We have a special connection, Bobby and I,

  Amongst all who pass through here..

  "Hi Jan", he says

  "Wanna read my latest poem?"

  And laughing, We trade bangers and mash

  For a glimpse of his soul.

  __________

  Author's note:

  Bobby is still street homeless, there is no place he fits in our society, there is a lack of will and resources from the government, those who act in our name, to find a solution for Bobby. At the last hospital appointment we could get him to, Bobby was diagnosed with chronic advanced cirrhosis of the liver. We worry he won't survive another winter.

  Sarah Russell, USA

  Mental Inequality

  People say inequality is race, religion, gender, and sexuality

  but have you ever stopped to notice

  the kids sitting on the sidelines?

  The ones with mental disorders

  like depression disorder, bipolar disorder, and borderline personality disorder

  they get ignored

  it’s not discrimination

  but it’s something else

  it’s unfair

  it’s not being equal

  that’s what inequality is

  treated like they’re nothing

  treated like they have no value

  treated with inequality

  they’re told they can’t be like everyone else because they’re different

  this world is scared of different

  because they don’t understand

  and they fear what they don’t understand

  if we can open our

  hearts

  minds

  souls

  to these kids

  maybe, just maybe

  they can feel equal

  __________

  Editor’s note:

  Someone may object that the poem doesn't refer to the Oxfam report. Yet, Oxfam does address mental health costs: not addressing mental health in adolescence costs billions $ worldwide in multiple ways: homelessness; costs to the healthcare system; lost income from individuals who could have been productive members of society; individuals who use the welfare system because they don't function in society; days lost from work; the literature indicate that most mental illness first shows up during adolescence, so addressing it during this time is critical.

  Leila Samarrai, Serbia

  Master & Servant

  "For whoever has, to him more shall be given, and he will have an abundance;

  but whoever does not have, even what he has shall be taken away from him."

  (Matthew 13:12)

  SERVANT:

  I learned to fear, I wretch, with Kantian stars in the heart.

  And you, Master, with prostitute blessings, look!

  You'll place your head on the holy ground,

  You'll give your favor to the Lord.

  He blesses his rich kids.

  Are we all not under the same sun?

  Are we not blown in the same winds?

  They, the harpies, with Midas’ fingers

  in Dante's wood, made of the leaves of oak trees,

  Are turning blood to gold.

  And I, a useless servant with the look of Medusa,

  Am turning my tears to stone.

  MASTER:

  My daughter, calm your heart..

  Try to forget the children in sumptuous clothes

  That were fleeing from you. Try to forget

  The golden calves of Mount Sinai.

  Remember the love I gave you at birth

  By accepting the gifts of the rich.

  With gold, they are paying back their debts.

  Forgive those who do not have–

  And thus reconcile the human injustice.

  Kirti Sharma, India

  What the Poor Say

  I don't have any idea about how it feels to sit under the tree

  No idea how good it gets, when fresh air you breathe.

  I don't know the road smooth and clean,

  I don't know a park where all of us can play and speak.

  I cannot imagine how it feels to ride in a car,

  I cannot, because there's an ordeal of money.

  Because I am the only bread winner, and have five to feed.

  You're five bread winners, and everything is free.

  My kids are starving alone in the broken home

  Your kids, a victim of obesity, don't care where to go.

  And I would not like to say anything about education,

  I am far away from that life settling expectation.

  The bridge that keeps us at a distance is very long.

  God knows how much time it will take to cross.

  And every little happiness around us,

  Is held back because we're poor.

  And I am sure you wealthy people, don't want a life like this

  It should be fair in our lands, both poor and rich,

  But I can see you're too greedy,

  Yours a ruthless heart, it can never help a needy one.

  Anzelyne Shideshe, Kenya

  A Melody against Inequality

  I hear songs of peace, love and unity

  All equating equality since the 1st Century

  From various Races, Tribes, Languages and Nations

  Rich and poor coherently rejoicing

  I've read books of various writers

  Harmoniously exercising a unified literature,

  But unto the financial lyrics,

  Each reciting an exclusive lyric

  Of utility consumption by a few 62.

  Monopoly of power in their hands too.

  The only chorus I hear is biased,

  Many howling at the midst of poverty,

  Women fighting for higher posts,

  Girls fantasizing over PhD’s,

  Them acquiring jets to dream destinations,

  Listen to their sound of laughter, in palaces,

  Drinking and dancing to their slogans,

  Feasting on silver spoons and gold plates,

  Others waiting for there remains in dustbins,

  With stomach aches to their thatched houses,

  Isn't it wrong to let water overflow unnecessary?

  Preaching water and drinking wine,

  Lets rejoice in a common rhythm,

  A melody against inequity.

  Osiel Silverino da Silva, Brazil

  Stone Hearts

  The sun rises for everyone:

  Good and bad.

  Rich and poor.

&nbs
p; The rain comes to all:

  Good and bad.

  Rich and poor.

  But.. shelter?

  Do all have shelter?

  No. Not everyone can take shelter.

  The land freely yields fruit.

  But.. can everyone get enough of it?

  No. Not everyone can.

  The springs gush water abundantly.

  But.. can everyone sate their thirst?

  No. Not everyone can.

  So tell me.. what's wrong?

  Why do men take more than their share?

  Do they think they are eternal?

  Where is the brotherhood?

  Men are lost within themselves,

  There is no light to bring them back.

  Hearts are not meat.

  Pamela Sinicrope, USA

  Know Where To Go

  I'm:

  Beautiful. Rich.

  Clever. Popular.

  Stuffed full!

  When I wake up in the morning

  I can see every possibility,

  Make a million choices.

  I'm:

  Dirty. Poor.

  Illiterate. Invisible.

  I'm starving!

  When I go to sleep at night

  My stomach churns,

  And I fear for my safety.

  What do we know of each other?

  What are our secrets that keep us alive?

  Does metaphysical pain equal or exceed Maslow's needs?

  Can we ever truly be friends?

  Can a warm blanket, an unspoken look

  Or a freehand

  Restore the balance

  They have stolen from us?

  We avert our eyes and walk along opposite

  Ends of the tightrope.

  There's only room for one.

  Petra Soliman, Egypt

  Woman

  Whose bones are stronger?

  She awakes daily at sunrise, 05:00 AM,

  He continues to lay down till 08:00 AM,

  She heads off to work, driving down each lane with heavy thoughts,

  Selflessly thinking, already, what would she bake later for the family?

  He arrives to his office, selfishly wanting to leave earlier to sit at the café,

  As the sun sets slowly, and a day has begun to end,

  She arrives back home and starts another job,

  Her never-ending job as she sweeps the floors, boils the vegetables and arranges for lunch,

  The children come to eat yet without gratitude for the woman who has pain in her bones,

  They leave the table with a full stomach, but show no gratitude as they return to their addictions,

  Hours pass by as he arrive late after greasy meal and lung of smoke,