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David Lester Young

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The I And You In We The People
by David Lester Young
Thursday, May 21, 2015
Rated "G" by the Author.
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Recent poems by David Lester Young
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A therapeutic release with some stong stanzas.

The I And You In We The People


We are the composite equation of 100%.

We are the extreme Liberals and Conservatives,

And everything in between having the Free Speech

That questions all government actions for Truth.


We can and must stop political stud malfeasance,

Where politicians are bought by Special Interests.

They must first represent American neighborhoods

They cannot support foreign concerns, over American cities.


The Star Spangled Banner is Made in the USA.

“We the People” do not have a Corporate brand name,

Nor are our representatives bought up by billionaires,

Who pimp up to be auctioned off to the highest bidder.


They are not CEO’s, who require Wall Street Compensation,

When they bankrupt America in illicit deficit spending.

The Republican Progressive Fraternity must cut the frat fat,

By taking themselves off elected grafted greed Welfare.


Your retirements and benefits must reflect Blue Collar workers,

Not Hob Nob as America’s Congressional country club rich elite.

The House of the Lords has forgotten America’s working roots.

That Israel seems paramount and Detroit bears Gaza economics.


Presidential Candidates get blessings from Netanyahu,

And they rush to get Billionaire backing their campaigns,

As they go around The Hampton’s lavish mansions light,

But dare not set foot in areas suffering economic blight.


The greatest discrimination in America is economics.

That the Right to Vote to Work become legal exclusions,

Which disseminates discrimination in casting America

That makes it criminal to be poor, hungry, and Homeless.


Germany did caste a Hitler World Order Master Race,

Storm Troopers did impose a caste of Aryan stereotypes

Where the righteous did Judge and label strict conformity,

While Liberals, who questioned the hollow caste where silenced.


Today’s Free Speech Press is under attack by pragmatist modelers,

Whose guiding actions create subservient cloned lamb followers.

That the Free Press is run top down in strict adherent principles

That destroys the Ben Franklin bottom up Right to question America.


The Republican Progressive top down Plantation Corporate affluence

Says that America must be caste within economic class distinct divisions

That America’s untouchable poor and homeless are gypsy criminals.

That elements in America become threats like Jews, where in Germany.


Poets, artists, thinkers, professors, musicians became Holocaust corpses

That Liberal minds that open minds were then cremated closed mindsets.

That in the beginning American wealth did support Hitler’s military rise

But in the end they played the shell game of deniable innocence.


  Honorable Discharged Vietnam Veteran bears a Kent State Massacre,

Reminder scar of agony despair that tear drops upon napkin poems

That the therapy of release does heal inner acidic reflux frustrations,

That once written in rants will vent to start the eternal healing process.


But the cost of Free Speech questions is a Right to Vote State,

Saying Corporate American can censure Home Sweet Home rights,

To demand that no poetry can emanate from a Veterans dwelling,

Where in the end a Mercedes employee is “Terminated for Poetry.”


One looks up to say to God, “I guess, I am a poet now.”

So upon a journey, somewhere in America, not on company time,

One puts a home’s processions in storage bins of American Dreams,

$20,000 years later one still fights this losing battle in motel rooms.


Homeless in houseless, one knows one should wave a white flag,

But NUTS shouts aloud a Star Spangled Banner determination

Saying “Never Under Tyranny Surrender” the American Dream

That God made you look like Ben Franklin upon proud principles.


But I was also given the name David to fight the Goliath mindset,

But alas we are infested with incest inbred Plantation Masters,

Who have declared the other side of railroad tracks, Liberal thugs,

That they look down as Christians in their Right to Life judgments.


Right to Life in the Right for Executions in a Right to Homeless,

To be treated as criminals, whose mayor crime is dire poverty.

Christian politicians, demand Churches quit feeding the hungry,

That it was a crime that Jesus broke bread and fed fish to the poor.


Loaves and Fishes Christian outreach programs must reach out

To do what politicians fail to do, that is to walk among us.

That what LIES in Washington is Caesar’s domain of depravity,

Where for pieces of silver Politicians are bought lock and stock.


Am I Right? No, I would rather be Left To Be wrong,

In that the Truth is found between the dire extremes

That in dialog we can communicate as a whole nation,

Where the consensus is this 100% Democracy equation.


Our top down political system is totally dysfunctional

That the machine is broken by power brokers Behemoths

Who demand politicians sign pledges to incorporation,

Negating the Civilian Pledge of Allegiance to this nation.


Think Tanks and Goliath mind control mainframes

Have been programming this American Master Race.

That the color of discrimination is monetary green,

Where Corporate Kingdoms serf pawns for war.


Yes, condemn this Liberal as Socialist, Communist,

Democrat, troll, UnChristian, heathen and on and on.

Then look at our politicians as being future role models,

Where there approval rating are in the gutters of greed.


Will you share this? Probably not.

Will they filter this? Most certainly.

Will this be in a Free Press? In a fairy tale.

So why write this? Because like I told you,

I rant to vent out putrid frustrations,

So I can feel better for a few moments.

Until they lay a guilt trip on me for being

Terminated for Poetry

As a Vietnam War Veterans

Who remembers Kent State Massacre

Having graduated right into the War

From a Tallmadge High School

Twenty miles from Kent State.

That on my birthday after being discharged,

“We invades Cambodia.”

Where on another birthday,

We left Vietnam in disgrace.

Can you feel the nails rake those words

That cuts into the veins as swords

Slashing at the treads bare the tears

Where the wounds bare torn years

Tattered worn patch word quilts

Sown asunder woe that bemoans life

Is a lost futile cause that must surrender

And to that I will leave a one word ending



To BEE David Lester Young 05/18/15 ©


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Reviewed by Sandie Angel 5/21/2015
I know the frustration you are going through, but as Ron says... Keep telling, and NEVER LOSE YOUR VOICE!!!

Reviewed by Ronald Hull 5/21/2015
Keep telling it like it is. Some are listening. Some are not.


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