RKS Poetry Anthology (All We Get Are The Coffee Grinds):COVID’s Health Care Castes

COVID’s Health Care Castes

The Untouchables are the unvaccinated

Stay away

Penalize

Trivialize

Criticize

Public health authorities the new KKK

Socially lynching so quietly without killing

Then the One Shotters

Good boys and girls waiting for the second jab

To avoid being a social scab

Then the Two Shotters

Media labelled as wise, intelligent and caring

I’m so fatigued of manipulation and scaring

Not playing the game hammered by incessant and frantic advertising paid for with our tax dollar

 and if you protest and holler

You are no better and free than a dog in a collar

Robert K. Stephen

RKS Poetry Anthology (All We Get Are The Coffee Grinds): The Incontinence of Kayne West

The Incontinence of Kayne West

A man desperately craving attention

Has done it again

This time he has gone Ye Ye all over himself!

Robert K. Stephen

RKS Poetry Anthology (All We Get Are The Coffee Grinds): The Good Old Days When the Berlin Wall Was Standing

The Good Old Days When the Berlin Wall Was Standing

Being a Party member is a daunting responsibility

Although being truthful the proletarian view us with undeserved hostility

Daring to compare us to a new sort of nobility

What a scheming lack of capitalist civility!

We serve our mighty land and people

Merely a short Zil ride from the Kremlin steeple

We labour day and night in offices even in farthest Georgia

The wonderful land of Comrade Stalin

Just because we have a five room flat off the square

Just illustrates how much for the people we care

Why then your sarcastic stare?

A Zil with a chauffeur

Is provided because I’m no loafer

After all transportation is required to meet with Iraqi foreign minster Mr. Soffer

I am nothing but a hard-working man

So why the snarky comments about my Black Sea tan?

And that expensive Swiss fan

And my suits from France

Well, they are needed for an occasional diplomatic prance

Not for my own personal prestige to enhance

Toiling so busily for the good of the masses we require our own stores

Not because of corrupt mores

That you dare suggest make us rotten to the core

We remain members of the proletarian kind

And your never-ending litany of unfounded accusations are but a figment of a duped mind

To brazenly suggest to a bourgeoise lifestyle we have fell

I respectfully say you can go to Hell

Ask any of our folk

Suggest to them we have unwarranted privileges and they’ll take it as a ill humoured joke

And perhaps deliver a warning poke

We are no different from them

Our happy youth would heartily agree

if not

Do you think I would expel them to a cold Siberian degree

This damn Solzhenitsyn chap has created an awful flap

With his groundless crap

But our censors gave his knuckles a good rap

So he was exiled from our map

Every citizen is free like me

Oh, why can’t you see through the propaganda of the CIA

And for once agree with me?

All we do is administer

And if the skilled like me can be a Politburo minister

What the hell is so sinister?

Robert K. Stephen

RKS Poetry Anthology (All We Get Are The Coffee Grinds): Big Bird a Member of Hitler Youth (Covid Memories)

Big Bird a Member of Hitler Youth (COVID MEMORIES)

Yes, a cute and a seemingly innocent and loveable character is Big Bird

But seemed recently to choke on a big less than impartial turd

saying on 6November in a Twitter Tweet “get vaccinated and be safe”

On my ass his comments chafe

He will soon be forming a “korps” called “Vaccination Safe”

Turn in your parents and all who fail to buy into vaccination nirvana

Brainwashing children to succumb to the jab

Boom boom boom

You don’t do what we order

You are destined to a deadly doom

Welcome to the brainwashed elite

Goosestepping and acting far less than polite

the walls have ears

careful of those little dears!

Robert K. Stephen

RKS Poetry Anthology (All We Get Are The Coffee Grinds): Are We Looking at the End of the World? (COVID MEMORIES)

Are We Looking at the End of the World? (COVID MEMORIES)

Contemplating Omicron is the end of it

Personally, I say this is but the beginning of this shit

Just you wait until Ebola morphs into the grand plague

Coming from those poor than poorer African countries it could be said colonizers raped

And just perhaps on YOUR funeral casket their revenge will be draped

You pillage, ignored and plundered

You may be soon felled by their viral thunder!

Robert K. Stephen

RKS British Literature: The King’s Justice Worth No More Than a Roast Pippin (Henry Gilbert)

‘Softly, good marshal,’ replied Robin with a laugh. ‘Ye know who I am, and ye know that I reckon the king’s justice or his marshal at no more worth than a roast pippin. Thy justice!’. He laughed scornfully. ‘What is it? A thing ye sell to the rich lords and the evil-living prelates, while you give naught of it to the poor whom they grind in the mire. Think ye if there were equal justice for rich and poor in this fair England of ours that I and my fellows would be here? Justice! By the rood!’

Henry Gilbert, “Robin Hood”, 1912

RKS LITERATURE: “I Hate and I Love”: Bright White Teeth Cleaned by Urine

Because he has bright white teeth Egnatius whips out a tooth flash on all possible

& impossible) occasions.

You’re in court. Counsel for defence

concludes a moving peroration (Grin.)

At a funeral,

on all sides heartbroken

mothers weep for only sons. (Grin.)

Where, when, whatever the

place or time – grin. It could be a sort of “tic”. If so it’s

a very vulgar tic, Egnatius,

& one to be rid of.

A Roman, a Tiburtine or

Sabine, washes his teeth.

Well-fed Umbrians & over

fed Etruscans wash theirs

daily. The dark Lanuvians

(who don’t need to), and we

Veronese. All wash our teeth…

But we keep them tucked in.

We spare ourselves the nadir of

inanity – inane

laughter. You come from Spain. Spaniards

use their morning urine

for tooth-wash. To us that blinding

mouthful means one thing &

one only – the quantity of

urine you have swallowed.

 “I Hate and I Love”, Catullus (84 BCE-54 BCE)

RKS Poetry Anthology (All We Get Are The Coffee Grinds):A Certain President and Dementia

A Certain President and Dementia

No, I am not referring to “Sleepy Joe”

It is so inappropriate and cruel to mock those suffering from dementia and strange proteins on the brain

As recently seen a well-known comedian hawking virtual cards featuring the Orange Toad

Having great chuckles about the master deal making businessman specializing in bankruptcies and failed coup attempts

Like a kamikaze pilot taking out “enemies”

Someone described this man as a joke

Not a Saturday Night Live skit

But a real live twit

But being charitable and compassionate

Isn’t it time to realize this man requires help

Perhaps time to join a circle and throw the medicine ball around

But suggest that to millions of mentally challenged front seaters

And they’ll begin to yelp

When it is so obvious this man is an international embarrassment in dire need of help

Has he come a performer in “Nightmare Alley”

Robert K. Stephen

RKS Poetry Anthology (All We Get Are The Coffee Grinds): Scraping the Bottom of the Ajvar Jar

Scraping the Bottom of the Ajvar Jar

The beady eyed one

like LBJ can’t end it with a victory

in a last ditched effort turns to the Supreme Leader for arms and cannon fodder

to further the holy war of unification

a blessed return to historical oppression

so while the Grand Leader supplies scads of drones

the world moans

will nobody learn from the Ho Chi Minh Trail

and the Wailing Wall

humanity in a big stall

All Quiet on the Western Front

For many a brain-dead politician runt!

Robert K. Stephen

RKS British Literature: A Great Fear and Dread of the Forest (Henry Gilbert)

The forest he had heard was a place of dread, for the other villeins had told terrible tales. Of monsters who flew by night and hid in dark thickets by day to snap up unwary travellers; of hills from whose tops at night the glow of fire shone forth, and within which little dark elves or spirits dwelled. Indeed, the fear of little malicious fiends was never very distant from Jack’s mind in those times. These evil things might take any shape, and they dwelled in the spring or the stream, in the wood beside the road, and in the turfs of the grass in the field which he was ploughing or mowing. The whole village, and thousands of villages up and down broad Britain, believed in such wicked sprites, and therefore was no worse than his fellows, or, indeed, than men who were famed for their learning in those days and sat at the council board of kings.

Henry Gilbert, “Robin Hood”, 1912