Showing posts with label greed. Show all posts
Showing posts with label greed. Show all posts
Friday, March 28, 2025
Thursday, January 25, 2024
Unlovely Impulses
What did envy ever do for you?
Like washing wool in hot water,
it shrank your soul. Self-shrivel.
Same goes for excess pride,
the striding great inflater, which
turns you into a boastful blimp
bound to bust up on rocks.
Then there's greed, which morphs
your hands into grasping claws,
your mind into a maniacal mouse
in a maze, addicted to cheese.
Throw them out, reduce your
inventory of unlovely impulses.
You're the shopkeeper of your thoughts
and actions. Tidy up your shelves.
Hans Ostrom 2024
Wednesday, September 6, 2017
Velton's Testimony
Judge (said Velton), I submit
that yellow Lombardy poplar
leaves staggering down the breeze
from the trees recall butterflies:
that peculiar aerodynamic
jaggedry. May it please the court,
such impressionistic reports
on natural scenes are worthless
and thus desirable in any age
of frenzied valuation, addictive
greed, and amphetamined commerce.
hans ostrom 2017
that yellow Lombardy poplar
leaves staggering down the breeze
from the trees recall butterflies:
that peculiar aerodynamic
jaggedry. May it please the court,
such impressionistic reports
on natural scenes are worthless
and thus desirable in any age
of frenzied valuation, addictive
greed, and amphetamined commerce.
hans ostrom 2017
Monday, June 26, 2017
Big Shift Necessary
Oh, Switzerland, oh
shoes. Oh piety and booze.
Oh capitalists and nest-
robbers, mud-daubers
and multi-chambered tombs.
Oh wombs and the women
who carry them and carry
history, mystery, misery,
work, and care. Where
is the wisteria? Where
are the boundaries drawn
by people who shouldn't?
Oh people, grow up. It's
time. Stop worshiping
stupidity and sanctifying
greed. Lose the White
Supremacy and its evil,
desiccated heart. Discharge
sinister ministers. Own up.
'Fess up. Follow the money,
but don't let it be Lord. We
are one species, so work it
out from there. Oh, hair.
hans ostrom 2017
shoes. Oh piety and booze.
Oh capitalists and nest-
robbers, mud-daubers
and multi-chambered tombs.
Oh wombs and the women
who carry them and carry
history, mystery, misery,
work, and care. Where
is the wisteria? Where
are the boundaries drawn
by people who shouldn't?
Oh people, grow up. It's
time. Stop worshiping
stupidity and sanctifying
greed. Lose the White
Supremacy and its evil,
desiccated heart. Discharge
sinister ministers. Own up.
'Fess up. Follow the money,
but don't let it be Lord. We
are one species, so work it
out from there. Oh, hair.
hans ostrom 2017
Wednesday, October 19, 2016
What They Took Out and Kept In
They took the tele out of phone
and the roll out of rock, replacing
it with alt, which they also added
to Control + Delete so a PC or
a Mac could get back on its feet.
They done took the paper out
of news and ripped the promise
out of compromise. Yep, they kept
race in political races because
of their bad White habits.
They kept the greed in agreed.
I wish they'd take the they
out of they and replace it
with we, but I just don't see
that happening real soon.
hans ostrom 2016
and the roll out of rock, replacing
it with alt, which they also added
to Control + Delete so a PC or
a Mac could get back on its feet.
They done took the paper out
of news and ripped the promise
out of compromise. Yep, they kept
race in political races because
of their bad White habits.
They kept the greed in agreed.
I wish they'd take the they
out of they and replace it
with we, but I just don't see
that happening real soon.
hans ostrom 2016
Monday, November 12, 2012
Today I Am Sure
Today I am sure
most of the poetry
written by William Blake
is unnecessarily complicated
and more or less
a pain in the ass.
Today I am sure
that life is the art
of delaying what is
inevitable and
accelerating
what is recalcitrant.
Today I am sure
that greed
is a disorder,
an addiction that blinds
the sufferer
and corrodes society.
Copyright 2012 Hans Ostrom
most of the poetry
written by William Blake
is unnecessarily complicated
and more or less
a pain in the ass.
Today I am sure
that life is the art
of delaying what is
inevitable and
accelerating
what is recalcitrant.
Today I am sure
that greed
is a disorder,
an addiction that blinds
the sufferer
and corrodes society.
Copyright 2012 Hans Ostrom
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