Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Ben Bernanke

Two of my earlier poems...
The High Priest


Dipping his stick in magic soap,

He keeps blowing into the air.

Carrying a message of hope

The bubbles emerge, in thin air.


Fascinated, spellbound, we stare,

Holding our breaths, hoping they will last,

As each bubble dances in the air

We watch, fragile hopes floating past.


We hope he has imbued them with spells

To carry them through the turbulence;

We hope they won't break, nor dispel;

We pray in fervent desperation.


Greenspan kept blowing his bubbles

Till they blew up one day in our face.

Bernanke has now been installed

As High Priest: to convey all our prayers.

(written on 12-January-2010)


Uncle Sam's fairy tale


Cinderella's coach was created

From a pumpkin, couple of mice;

A turn of the wand generated

The coach, and all that was nice!


Greenspan used his wand very well,

Flooding the world with money;

But he was in charge of the press

That's known as the U.S. treasury!


Bernanke has now taken up

What Greenspan had long back started.

He is busy conjuring up

Dollars where none ever existed!


At the stroke of 12 she had to run,

For the magic would lose its power.

All fairy tales are good and fun,

Till comes the inevitable hour!


(written on 31-December-2008)



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