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The Daily Poetry Movement

I am not sure who wrote this poem but I found it at antipoet.blogspot.com It seemed like a very humurous poem that seeks to address some of the insanity of American Consumerism. I have been trying to come up with a list of antigifts. Like creating certificates that donate hours of time helping people do yard work, or housekeeping or babysitting, home cooked waited on hand and foot meals, the list goes on. I am hoping that people will add suggestions to this list to help each other get out of the non consumers guilt. Anybody have an idea to share?
corporate letter to a goddess of shopping

here we code-up for the masses - better fill bags to brims;
deny the cold fist of concrete-faces between pacts of neon-shopperz.

today your office walls crumbled sweet in transient meaning;
secreted well in shop-bodies of yearning - speak red panty volumes.
realises now: desire her huge dedication to the corporation.
them shiny plastic logos wish pleasure to all her arses
- my tongue in her cheek

in sweat-shop silence s/he waits for the gaps in breezes
but always writes blue popsongs in my lollypop sherbert.
her korporate kiss reaches me fast n frantic suburban beets.
clear smiles wrap faces - eating her succinct pastry; her icing sugar rant.
we imagine each sunny stare; accept her poetic liquid.
i lose sight sometimes of the business; holier-than-thou lawnscapes.

i wait here for waves of vanilla essence:
please please hide my souls - say signs scrawled in bricks.
disguise my crushed beach dreams in thick hard stanzas/slogans
my revolution culpable to the pulses across a thousand bytes.

this we must: wrap each corporate kiss in frames of werdbliss;
synchronise watches; snatches in time perhaps golden handshakes.
collect our pains in bags for sometime after these journeys,
there are many years in these lives yet, he says, glints in black suns.

but sometimes he conjures those post-apologetic [car]park scenarios
narratives without blind fear of killing lives yet lived;
civic dreams produce tills. but let me wait in lustful poetik silences.
these are more tender than open-source op-shop software.

one day we must subjugate to the mass bargain frenzy - or lose all hope.
Pome 06.Dec.2003 14:50


You are free
as if released
the baby screams
at birth from mommy

you are free
to stand
where you are
and feel feelings

no need
to scream
mother is everywhere
in all things

witness yourself
winess all
witness human dream
witness you are free

Dada hears your pain 07.Dec.2003 02:35

Migratory Bird

Dada hears your pain
He has glass hands that ache to throw rocks
He once was hit and he shattered
A house of blue shards
Mars his perfect head

Dada I says
Cause he can bend down
To hear me
Dada whose angry umbrella
Lays down on the ocean?

He says that we call the earth

Dada I says in whisper
Does conagra speak English
To call it soil
And dada wipes his glass hands on
A comet like that

Oh Dada whose elephant destroys
Our village?
Those ants he says were nazis now
They own Disneyland

This ocean, dada, I feel it in my belly
Then one day girl, you shall have the moon.