What Did I Miss | A Poem of the Times

Did any accountability come from Donald and his clan?

Just before COVID 19 was a thing, this was “the thing,” the big thing. 

The Elites Are Arguing It Out

What am I missing? A poem of the times. By E Lloyd Kelly (the-poet.)

Hey! Why are you all looking at me like that? Am I missing something here? Am I missing something? Anyway! Complete with video. Get a copy of the "Poetic Justice Book" here

The convergence of the mighty minds and the elitest of the elites of mankind are arguing it out. This side is making a mocking fool out of that side’s clout. One is at a loss as to why the others’ boss has gotten it all so very wrong, in class. Arguing yet the more about the letter and the law, and as to the spirit of the longtime draft which they drew on the draw. As you already know, the law is the law, and no one is above the law, not even him, nor her. But you also know that I’m really, really rich, and can afford to buy her some whipping switch. So said the one there at the top of the glitch. We’ll see. We’ll see.

Yet they argued on about this, and that, and about what the framers of those very laws samer, must have thought, and would have written down and etched in class. From thousands upon hundreds of years ago. They’re long dead though. But what was to have been their thinking when said laws were being framed and fenced in? Asked some of them over on this siding. All the while, those of the high profile were defending on one side or amending on the other. In order to be sending some other “some-ones” somewhere through the turnstiles on the border. Especially those “some-ones” who are known to have lied, stolen, cheated. Yes. Among the many other awful vices that are known that she did, or was it he? Maybe.

Increasing foul-play all along the way. From the very first day of the stepping in of their first right feet, so it would have seemed. Or the wrong one to eat, seasoned with beans. Or was it the head instead? Could’ve been that you know. Could have been that instead? Yes, yes –Ned. Lying yet again there on the bed, and who were known to have bragged around somewhere in town, talking about such deeds long done, or those which could yet be done in times to come, without anyone even so much as stopping his gun. So spoke he openly in the street. Never even so much as to think a stink thought to tone it down in parts. Even when the thermostat was to have gotten turned up really hot. To get heated yet the more at that spot. Yes, at the headship of his head up top.

The council of councilors were known to have begged and said it to her clients’ hearing aids, oftentimes, so they would have, as said, begged. Begging yet again for him to refrain from the speaking game. Would have said it to them just before praying the two of them off to bed: you’re unwell, they said, and you, you can’t help yourself. So, go, go on up to sleep on the topmost bunk bed, and don’t forget to cover your feet. This they pleaded and begged. But…

Eloquent was that one, he who stood upon a stand in front of a frenzied admiring clan. The cheering on of the fans were there prodding him on, and lied long straight ties, sorry, I meant to say, face. Lied straight-faced to no one’s distaste, oh what a disgrace. But, just in case they should stick a microphoned camera up in your face tomorrow. Say nothing more than this to her: we did nothing wrong, we did nothing wrong.

Yet they argued on, they, them. Them and their highly placed able-bodied men: we did the very same thing that you and yours did and would have wronged them too, so they say. Nothing more nothing less, nothing wrong with that, I guess. Nor with you -okay? So, how come? Why has no one been called in for any form of a reprimand? No accountability was to be found coming at hand — Dan. Not even so much as you are now calling for, from these our very highly placed men of war. Therefore, this is a hoax, this is a farce, fake news, and the rest of the arts.

But, as for us, we have instructed everyone under our immediate command not to be found cooperating with anyone, no. Not you, not them, nor with the sleuth of their demands, count ten. But if the cooperators should go on and cooperate? Then, we’re going to have to open up the floodgate and call them out straight. Those from over there on your side of the plate. Those who, just like us, did nothing wrong on the bus. They too, did nothing wrong. Like, that which they would have done when they did in like manner as our very own had done, no. They did nothing wrong when they did those things. Nothing that they would even want to hide from anyone, so it would have seemed. Same as how we didn’t do it over on our side of the pew stand, near the podium beam. But come they must, just like us. Come to testify about all of the right things which they, just like us, did do. Or even the wrong ones which both of us on either side, did not do on the bus. Both them, and us. True?

True. This one over here, though, has got overwhelming evidence to show. He was to swear so and then go, yes. Gone off to the picture show. And he was going to use it all to prove that what he’d said that that one had abused and did, is true. “She is culpable,” she said, “like you, and you ought to have her removed”. Or was it he, him? Same thing.

Although, I would really appreciate it if you were to show me some more of those facts and things. Those fat facts that you have got lots of over there under locks and hiding. But that one will not, because these facts are all that we’ve got here. And it’s all that we have got left to put ourselves in the clear. These facts are here to prove that, we are aware of your hiccups and the pack. And of course, we did nothing wrong, we did nothing wrong. We’re not like some of you and your “someone” friends who, on the other hand, can’t seem to get anything right. Not even the other right side of your left-handed bills which you right. Nor the articles that you’d wronged when you had ventured out to write out our wrongs. So went on the educated ones. Well, nothing wrong with that part yah man. Nothing at all.

Nothing but for the buttoning up of the bottom lines off the bottomless pit which he is just about to fall into quick. Headlong to the fall in it. So said the top-most third of the 3-tiers of the wisest of the wise men here. The same also came from amongst the elites over there. None was able though, to bridge the gap and to shorten the divide that exists and persists between the two many sides. But this one over here has got the perfect solution clear, and the answer is holed up in his sweaty hands bare. Which was to come down to just one, as I was to hear. Which turned out as it must, to be just this one on the bus: “Let’s leave it up to the voters”. So he says to the camera as it was turning up in his gaze about hers. And hence, was to get him in and on the post to be there and posing. Out there in the media page spheres, in a couple of days enclosed in, just over there. “Yes, let’s leave it up to them - the voters, to decide there-in”. So he said and lied again, in my hearing. And I was like, “what did I just miss, what did I miss? What do we make of that, and this? What did I miss”? Again, I had was to have asked, and hissed.

In a situation such as this, I could not help but hissed at the Abyss and wondered out loud from the backside of my speech. “What did I miss, what did I miss?” “We’ve got to trust the voters,” they say, ``we've got to trust them enough to make the right decision on this one-sided, busted right-left-handed play, right?

Right.

“And why is that?”

Someone was to have asked a-mocked. Mocking the answer that was quick in coming back from the elitest of the educated pack.

“It’s because,” came the answer fast. It’s because just like the paying customer in business class does and do? The voting voter in politics too, is always right, isn’t that right? Right.

Well. Of course, of course he’s right. He has surely got the right and the left foot of the shoe, and the power too. Yes, he has got the power too. It’s all there in his right hand, wearing the wrong shoe. By the shower, that’s who, and in the one left of their best of new, on the hour. The power to make the right call and the proper decision test after all, yeah! Of all the others with or without a vested interest in it. It is he, the voter-we. It is us who have got the correct answer as we must. The power too, to get them and the rest of us all out of this hellhole of a thinly divided one-sided messy mess brawl. Which those others over there with purely nonpolitically motivated interests, clearly, did have, and best of all, from the onset. Even before that call. Fear?

Fear.

But no, it wasn’t so. It wasn’t they, them. It wasn’t them and their companions who had gotten us all to digress and to divert from serving the people’s best interest then, no. Which was the only reason why the voters had gotten interested in this messy business in the firster, that place there, yes. But anyhow, let’s move along now, to the best place of the firstest. Because, the people, as said before, are the ones who know what’s best, for sure. So, “let’s put them to the test”, said the one decked out in vest, once more. The test which we had gotten ourselves together from the past, and was to institute on the voter’s list fast. Whatever they say, is the correct answer right away. That decision shall be binding for the next four to five years and winding. Winding up to stay, and pointing towards the next generations’ spheres too, so they say. And, if we should somehow manage to last that long under these said conditions. While the other “them,” while they get richer and fatter, and mightier is proper, and get to secure for themselves an elevated place for their future, and in history and hers, cuter. While “we,” the people, like he who’s feeble. We get poorer and weaker, and fewer and meeker, and waste away even the more, her. And gets so blinded by the glistening lights shining. Shining out of the stencil, trashy wrapping papers bright and binding. So much so that they, we, us, and not them, but, us. Those of us who can’t ever seem to be able to see anything but our guts, and a few other buttons and bolts, maybe. Maybe there will remain a bit of hearing left in the hearing aids for these sorts of “us souls” to hear the piles of dressed-up nonsense that they tell them there. When comes the next election year. So much so that we may go out again, and vote for them. Not for me, nor us, but, for them, and much more of the same. The most outrageous pile of duckling’s lame but. But, but who is to be blamed? Really? Surely, not me nor us, but for them — Neelie. Those who will be able to do the most “nothing” for most of them. Nothing other than to do them, you know? Like, to do them in. Again.

You probably get the leader you deserve with her. Well, so they say, as it occurs. Would have happened when you went out and to play, and would have swallowed the broth that they’d served up and tossed. Now, these are they, those, the bosses’ boss, and rose. Those you get with the polling fingers from polls.

Yes, there they are. From the highly sophisticated down to the lowest bum, dressing up the business class. In the house of the gated. Near the bar on the skid, and the showroom windows, and the wasted. Among other things that are known that they did. You do know what I mean, don’t you? But we’re not talking about those at the center of the scheme of things. We are talking about those two extremes, like, where voters in elections lies somewhere in between. Yeah, there, in them is where all our solutions lies naked and bare. But. “What the heck do I care?” So said that man over there. Beware! Voters, you sure had better beware.

By E Lloyd Kelly, © Feb. 2020. Just another #poemofthetimes  

A way with word play.
These Tall Tales and Twisted Fails are the Burdened Rantings of A #Jamericanadian Wordsmith. The language of my childhood. Built around, double entendre, nonsense talk, sensational spellings, and packed full of words with alternate translation, and cheeky downhome humor, so. Here I am, talk king nonsense that may, or may not begin to make cents, or even a few doll hers, but. Please, don't leave me a loan here two cry, B sure too book market and come back a gain, quick. Bring half friend wheat you to share it’s after hits with them 2, ten queue 4 sub scribe “bing”, and hitting up against the bell -bottom. Yuh will bee note if I’d when never we post new Can’t tenth

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