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The Husbandman
The Husbandman
The Husbandman
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The Husbandman

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With Magna Charta forgotten, the Declaration of Independence ignored, the Constitution distorted, and our liberties under the Bill of Rights imperiled; with central banking and fiat money under the Federal Reserve, with Congress a rubber stamp for an authoritarian presidency, and with legislated socialization of our private property; these poems may entertain the sympathetic readers possibly otherwise unvoiced disdain for a trend. Sometimes humorous, sometimes serious, sometimes vaguely hinting at other ideas, the general theme of the whole collection is best summed up by the climax of the short story included at the end.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherAuthorHouse
Release dateApr 29, 2013
ISBN9781481747530
The Husbandman
Author

David Rosenfeld

David Rosenfeld lives and works in Orange County, California. There, he participates in local poetry readings. He is a graduate of UC Berkeley.

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    The Husbandman - David Rosenfeld

    the

    HUSBANDMAN

    ____________________

    DAVID ROSENFELD

    27209.png

    AuthorHouse™

    1663 Liberty Drive

    Bloomington, IN 47403

    www.authorhouse.com

    Phone: 1-800-839-8640

    © 2013, 2014 by David Rosenfeld. All rights reserved.

    No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

    Published by AuthorHouse    06/16/2015

    ISBN: 978-1-4817-4754-7 (softcover)

    ISBN: 978-1-4817-4753-0 (eBook)

    ISBN: 978-1-4918-2246-3 (audio)

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    TABLE OF CONTENTS

    The Husbandman

    We Live in Temporary Times

    Nonbeliever (To a Trader)

    The Biggest Bubble

    Suspended Belief

    On Re-Reading Lysander Spooner Again, and Again

    For Fundamental Freedom Sonnet

    The Foxtail Pine

    Cultivate a Single Garden

    Albert J. Nock

    Jeffersonian

    Set the Foundation

    Another Vision

    Broken Man Returns

    Song of Infidelity

    For Benjamin Franklin

    Poor Rich Alm Knack

    Increasingly Worse It Grows

    By the Court of the New King (or, What Everyone Already Knows)

    The Rat & You

    Ludwig von Mises

    The Lantern in the West

    Thoughts Forbidden

    (Now Unhidden!)

    I Know What I Know

    The Peddler

    In Answer to Myself

    The Draft

    Anti-War Poem

    Liberal Sonnet

    Fantasy on a Theme

    Something Bubbling (or, One Man, One Vote)

    For the many, and the few, who have taught me

    THE HUSBANDMAN

    He saw some of it coming—

    The bust that follows boom—

    And weighed the likely outcome

    Of the impending doom.

    It was with trepidation

    That he boxed all his books

    And hunted in the forest

    For some sequestered nooks.

    At first it was his plan

    To squirrel them away;

    But then the bigger picture

    Dawned on him like day.

    A total, awful blackout,

    Just like the fall of Rome,

    Barbarians desecrating

    The place he should call home.

    And so he stuck his neck out

    Right to the guillotine,

    Or worse—well, what’s the heck about—

    An imprisoned mind’s routine.

    The jail that they could put him in

    Might not be safe at all;

    To be assaulted, raped by gangs,

    Crushed hard against a wall.

    Still he offered up his book;

    His hated foes attacked.

    He hoped that you might take a look

    Before your Rome got sacked.

    WE LIVE IN TEMPORARY TIMES

    We live in temporary times,

    Borrowed on the lives of men.

    Bravely do they die for crimes

    Of Neo-Rome’s Imperium.

    While we glibly spend the spree,

    Fight they rounds with endless foes,

    And testify that we are free.

    The truth yet everybody knows.

    The limes are manned, the legions guard

    The homeward leading land and sea;

    But the economic heart

    Is rotten and a hollow tree.

    True enough, the tree still stands,

    And makes for an illusion fair;

    But branches reaching dying hands

    Grasp aloft a thinning air.

    We live a life beyond our means,

    And build on top of wormy wood;

    The future not yet what it seemed,

    A past that blinds to what was good.

    We borrow on a priceless wealth,

    And mortgage living land away

    For a legal fiction’s health—

    The corporate states’ reckless sway.

    The trading day, when it goes south,

    Will wipe out values held for keeps.

    Then we will from hand to mouth

    Subsist, while in starvation creeps.

    Back to chaos, new Dark Age,

    With barbarism at the door;

    Violence only to assuage

    The plundering villains’ army corps.

    Perhaps a city-state may linger

    Here and there amongst the wars.

    But fanaticism, trigger fingers,

    Will dominate from shore to shore.

    The cause, it is no mystery,

    Except perhaps in motivation.

    Why then this subtle trickery,

    To smash the last of moral nations?

    A kind of evil lurks in some,

    A love of death—or longing for it—

    Let’s get it all now over, done!

    And woe to those who still abhor it.

    Debase the coin, and be last lender;

    Fiat money, printed paper;

    Then inflate, force legal tender:

    Take down Liberty and rape her!

    The dinosaurs have come and gone.

    The proto-mammals won the day.

    What will

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