Saturday, 11 February 2012

Two Households

 On opposite side the street they stand
One posses proudly
Yet the other is slummed and meek

In the proud one –
the family owns five cars
and that is just outside
Inside they have sixteenth century art work
Designer clothes and a fridge packed with food

In the meek one –
the family can hardly afford commute ticket
and have to scrape for the rent
they have an empty table with an empty milk botte
and an empty cereal bowl as everybody is out to work
nothing more and nothing else

That’s the kind of life they have to face
While the others remain in the warm haven
For them no money is enough to feed their lifestyle
While the other family can hardly on the minimum wage

Are you telling me this is right?
Are you telling me this is democracy?
Are you telling me this meritocracy? 

By Elena Kokonova 

hope you had enjoyed this poem on a rather serious topic. feedback is fantastic as i would know what you though of it. it doesn't have to be much. thank you. 

Flavoured Free Spirit

The passion strapped inside you
lays asleep and erupts the second
that your ears catch the sound waves of the beat.

The life of the rhythm drowns you deep
and the beat reproduces itself in the air
that then infuses in your lungs

As soon as the beat drops
your pulse those the opposite
The rhythm sets you alight
and the adrenaline posses your
mind, body and soul

You rip apart the bounds
of oppression and that’s when
your soul escapes and feels
the raw intensity of an unearthy passion 

By Elena Kokonova 

One my favourite poems hope you enjoyed it as much as you did. if you can give me any feedback i would appreciate it. 


This poem is not about love
You have been warned
The concept of doesn’t make a difference to what I am going to talk about

What I am referring to us the green papers and coins you supposedly poses
Oh – but you don’t seem to have any
You wonder where they went? You wonder how they went there?
A simple and clean robbery. Pure robbery.

You realise that you do not have any of that necessary stuff in your pocket
That you need desperately to live on
You have been robbed dry.

While in the mean time there are people who seem to have more than ever
How have they avoided the theft?
You muse in the street empty handed. Your face a distort canvas.

They poses factories, companies, shares, and workers
and they are unsatisfied
They want to poses the world
They think they have absolute power as the government does not harm them

While they seat up high in their glass offices their eyes only able to see the figures
A violent force is brewing outside
Yet they remain oblivious to what is happening  
They think they are on top of the world

They think they are out of the war zone
But just you wait and see what there is to come
Their day will come don’t you worry 

By Elena Kokonova 
hope you enjoyed reading. please even a line of feedback is fantastic and means a lot me.

The Market

A gathering around the centre, around the screens
At 9 am the figures come to life
and begin another day of work and play
They would like to live upstate
But sometimes that isn’t how things work

Their controllers to are hard at work
Seating on their desks and entranced
by the glow of their computers
They are unfazed by the math of it all

Bid, bid, bid, bid they go
More, more, more within their minds they shout
Sell, sell, sell the negatives equities when things go down hill
When the bankers falls down from the wall

By Elena Kokonova
many thanks for reading. hope you enjoyed it. again one of the latest poems ive written.

Our nation

The flag flapping high
It’s colours reflected in the sky
The airplanes fly by

Yet we are a nation torn
By the deficit
Which is not a fault of our own

The bankers could run wild
Yet the government persecutes the rioters
When they didn’t cause the down turn

The nation takes the fall and bares the burden 
And let me tell you that the nation isn’t made up
of bankers or the rich

We trod away heavy hearted
Our souls laid bare
What do we have to celebrate?

How the system divides us
How they point the blame on those in need
How we are criminals that should be put in jail

When the actions of those to blame are robbing the old
When they act irrationally giving out to those who afford to pay back
When they enter the portal of liquidity they will all go rolling down

Even then they don’t scream for help
as they have too much pride on their shoulders
The government starts to intervene and make us help

When the bankers return to their desks they go do the same damn thing again
They didn’t learn from their mistakes
They still have all their holiday homes intact 

By Elena Kokonova 
Thanks for taking your time to read. I appreciate any feedback that you give me. :)

The Eternal End Of Boom and Bust

No longer is there spend, spend, spend
When the working man has nothing to spend
When he does not have a penny in bank, pocket or wallet
I don’t now about you but I sure don’t
We shouldn’t wonder that the working class gets into a career of crime

You need food, clothes, petrol and the kids need toys and fun
But you can’t provide that
You find yourself simply saying, ‘I am sorry sweetheart, this month money is thigh.’
Next month comes and you find yourself using that same line

They want sweeties, that toy car, that barbie doll
And they are crying, hanging onto your leg in the middle of the store
You can’t simply crumble to their demands and yet they can’t understand. They are just kids.

The mortgage knocks on your door every month followed a suit by all the bills
You forgot the taste of all those holidays you went on
You forgot what it was to have a proper sleep at night
When you do sleep you dream about the bailiffs in suits at your doorstep taking your children away
Your worries can’t just fly, fly, fly away!

You are not the only one that is in this situation
One household in a great big pool
struggling against the tide
trying to stay afloat
and not sink.  

By Elena Kokonova 
thank you for reading. feedback would be great. these are some my latest poems. would be nice to hear what my readers think. :)