The quiet carriage:
At least that's what I thought,
Yet conversations spoken,
Without retort, Loudly,
shall I engage? No,
rather demonstrate tact,
HI JEREMY! HOW'S YOUR MUM?
I speak loudly to make a point,
To elicit a reaction from Joe public,
He will engage, he can't resist,
Then I shall use his position,
A fantastic gambit.
WILL YOU BE QUIET! ?
This ruffian, this thug,
His conversation primitive,
His life, no doubt, without love,
No doubt barely schooled,
Under pressure, he will cave,
To my fiendish old Etonian,
Charming elitist ways,
There's no excusing his blatant tone,
His aggressive stance,
His feelings are known,
His courage is a mystery,
Completely lost, has he been,
Ordered to maintain silence,
At any cost?
THIS IS THE SILENT COACH
No prizes for guessing,
He's probably illiterate, by the way he's dressed,
He's probably no stranger to guns. Sells drugs,
Has knives, been in and out of jail,
His entire adult life,
EITHER GET OUT AND USE YOUR PHONE OR SWITCH IT OFF!
Can only relate to strong harsh words,
From society's greats,
No tact is necessary, just a short curt tone,
Should ensure this brat,
Leaves all well alone.
WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO?
He senses must be truly awry,
Does he not know my IQ is impossibly high?
The pinnacle of society's lies,
He's marked my card,
I can tell by his eyes, but,
How to react?
To such an obvious clown,
Do I shout at him swearing?
Or just thump him down?
I'll lead him into,
An academic trap,
And leave him with egg on his face,
Maybe then he won't think twice,
About the lies about my race.
YOU'RE ON YOUR PHONE ARE YOU NOT?
Just further evidence to support the fact,
Our education system is damaged from within,
Although I'm public,
As were all of my kin,
My friends and I we're lucky,
I'll draw him in,
He'll be lured in securely,
Falsely, belief in his own position,
Then I shall administer my literal genius,
We'll see who the ‘thug' is.
NO I SHALL NOT RELAX, YOU FERRAL CREATURE
My patience is lost, with this poor,
Young soul, poor in earnings, not in life's role,
Poor, as he stands probably on the dole,
Living of me and my hand outs,
Oh why must I pay this blasted tax?
To give them a life, the poor/blacks,
To hand them freedoms, not quite intact,
Time are gone I wish he would.
KNOW YOUR PLACE!
KNOW MY PLACE?
I think it's time to initiate,
My plan, and demonstrate to this bigoted,
Foolish man, that IQ means more than two letters.
WHAT DO YOU KNOW, SIR, OF THE DECIBEL?
DID YOU STUDY IT IN SCHOOL?
TEACHERS TAUGHT YOU WELL? DID YOU WORK VERY HARD?
DID YOU FOLLOW ALL OF THE RULES?
DID YOU KNOW THE TRAIN WE'RE ON HAS A DECIBEL COUNT,
FIVE TIMES LOUDER THAN THE HUMAN SHOUT?
AND THAT NEITHER WINDOWS NOR THE CARRIGE OF THIS BLASTED TRAIN,
IS ENOUGH TO CUT IT OUT?
THEREFORE IF THERE IS A COMPLAINT TO BE MADE,
MAKE IT TO THE DRIVER, WHOSE ENGINE ROARS ALOUD,
MAYBE HE'LL SWITCH IT OFF, OR DRIVE MUCH SLOWER,
I KNOW GREENPEACE WILL BE PROUD!
NOW TO YOUR COMPLAINT AND YOUR RUDE DEMEANOUR,
WITH WHICH I REVERENTLY DISAGREE,
BUT I'LL DEFEND YOUR RIGHT, WITH A DOGGED PASSION,
AS SPEECH MUST REMAIN FREE.
RECOGNISE THE QUOTE? IT'S VOLTAIRE,
IT'S INCREDIBLE WHAT YOU CAN LEARN FROM A BOOK,
AND WHAT YOU WILL LEARN, FROM MEMBERS OF SOCIETY,
IF ALL YOU WOULD DO IS LOOK.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Arguendo by Michael Mullings )
- Brother John, Colin Ian Jeffery
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- is happening the Is, dr.k.g.balakrishnan kandangath
- What you will get, Emmanuel George Cefai
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