Site hosted by Angelfire.com: Build your free website today!
They RHYME!!!! They SCAN!!!!
They explore truths of the human condition!!!
(sometimes even at the same time!!!)
But does it take more than that to qualify as poetry?
Only you, dear friend, can answer that...
------------------

SOLE MUSIC

A
M
E
R
I
C
A

             The squeak of his boots
                                   as he shoots 
                                         for his goals,
                  brings payment 
                                   for his fame
                                    in the game,
               He gained the world when he leased his soles
                          twenty million dollars for his Name.
A
U
S
T
R
A
L
I
A
                 The tingling zing 
                     of the register drawer ,
                  takes her two hundred dollars from her view,
                              '...But to wear
                                           a pair 
                                     like Jordan wore'
          said her son, 'is the kewl thing to do...'
A
S
I
A

               Sewing Machines stutter 
                   on the sweat shop floor,
                  where the boots are produced at a price.
                       Sixty hours a week
                  at eighty cents an hour
   barely covers the cost of his rice.
 A
F
R
I
C
A

              The African mourns 
                        the death of his daughter
                   but drought, dust and war
                                      leave naught to eat,
                   no land, no home, no hope, no water,
                        no boots! 
          he's thankful he has feet.
A
*
*
A

                The squeak of the boots, 
                                         the tingling zing.
                the sewing machines click clackity.
                The richman, the poor,
                               who mourn, who sing?
                         listen
                                    to the din
                     of inequity.......
Copyright John Cooper 1994