Speech Offering – Version II

The following poem, “Speech Offering” is version II of a poem that I’m turning into a lyrical piece. I already have versions III and IV that I can envision drafting when I look at how it is written. And, I can hear the sounds, the rhythm, the beats, the musicality, which will differ from how it currently flows. And, with a little help from some of my poetry and songwriting friends, I hope to have some fine lyrics in the end.

But this piece is timely. We have the federal election coming up in Canada on the 19th of October and Conservative member, Colin Carrie, decided to drop by my door. Luckily I shut myself in my office to work on my poetry at the time, not knowing he was the man talking to my husband, as I feel angry with our current government and I know that other residents do as well. I wonder what I would have said to him face-to-face. I doubt I would have had the grace. I do know, however what I want to say in writing.

Here is my poetry as an offering of peace, to those who want their nice country back, on Thanksgiving weekend.

Speech Offering – Version II

Why bread’s for members of P, enhancing egos
Who averted eyes where all girls went for eras
What price is a refugee, graphing maps First Nations
Who tagged his waterlogged lungs, barren with no rations

Cut you as you clown around, votes will be more profound
Youth is apathetic, they’ve gone underground
Getting their votes unsound, like digging for your pension
Before it’s even found, cash in after a mention

On the news you’re so merry, you undid the revelry
With what you could not foresee, a nice country for many
Get offa my property
Offa my porch, boy Carrie

You hum Green Acres while she sweeps, like a lazy bee
While your gut gorges this Thanksgiving, food is not for free
You chanted the ditty, “dirty ‘shwa is blue”
No idea’s true, it’s for me not for you

Coalition a crux for the competition
Collision to cantor the conservatism against the conservation
Coalition to create a country
Cure it, can it, cos we carry

Green, orange, red an autumn proposition
Get offa my porch, my decision
Get outta my town, our decision
Get outta my city you blue brat babboons of conservativism

We know your past for sure, you don’t know your future
We will get rid of you, it will be a suture
Mending what you killed, people and ideas
To get this country out of its foremost fears

Poverty of our children, can’t be covered with your dough
They need the real bread uh huh, to enable them to grow
Why, who, what, the where-with-all, you seem to be ready to stall
You may topple you may fall, at street level you will crawl

Now get offa my front porch, boy Carrie
You’re lazy as can be
I don’t really like you but see, boy, don’t take it so personally
We want our country back, in one piece for all of we

You undid the revelry
Of a nice country
For so many
With what you could not foresee

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