Tag Archive | political commentary

Livid Liver Of Life

Arrhythmic Logic

Livid Liver Divided By One Over Life
Equals some kind of symbol. But don’t ask me now
What the hell it might stand for. It’s damned to make sense
If my wrath be the dearth of me. I’ll take offense
To any mathematics who cannot allow
The lost least of life livers who linger in strife.

So, I’m pissed off a lot. Any liver would be
In full-on agitation as numbers prevail
In the lives of all livers so lives loom in lack.
I’m so livid I’m prone to a liver attack.
My inverse multiplicative is doomed to fail
If I don’t get an answer immediately.

I’m an arrogant liver and often too proud
Of a life I’ve imagined but haven’t lived out.
Must I then mind the meaning of what I have lost?
When my math doesn’t add up who suffers the cost?
I intuit without any semblance of doubt
That my anger won’t fix things. That can’t be allowed.

Wrapped Up

Welcome Home!

There are needs of the many. To those I must serve.
In performance of duty my loyalty lies
On the path I have chosen. For that I am proud.
Does it mean that my precious one I’ll not enshroud
With unending devotion? The look in her eyes
After long times away is what I do preserve.

It feels warm like a blanket… At least it once did.
Yet I still get that closeness from others like me
Who have fallen in love with impossible dreams
And from those whom I care for. Indeed my heart beams
With the strength of fulfillment. My firm memory
Of Good Order and Discipline cannot be hid.

I believe in my country. Its flag is my shield.
It protects my democracy more than is seen
On its battle-scarred surface and once virgin womb.
My commander in chief is a deal made with doom
So maintaining morale is most vital hygiene
As the soul of a nation is yet to be healed.

Continuous Dialogue

Necessary Constant Reflection

Either real or the image… How can I be both?
In this square, black and white world, I must remain calm
To the point of inaction. I want to lie down
On an other than a flat surface shy of a crown.
But a constant reflection sequesters my qualm
As it has much to do with spiritual growth.

Have I tried being upright? Indeed, have I failed
To speak softly and offer value to this world
Without hostile behavior toward those I perceive
As dispassionate nuisances who can’t believe
That an immature bastard whose life is unfurled
Can give more besides sorrow? My soul is unveiled.

But I can’t keep my mouth shut nor my fingers still.
Now, how’s that for preparedness for a bored game!
I’ll continue non-stopping my binary views
‘Til I reach total vision. What have I to lose?
Life review is a break in the fever of shame.
Better self-talk is possible through divine will.

On Engaging The Hoax

Well-prepared for a Crisis

If it did come from China, why call it a hoax?
If we do that our stories can’t make enough sense!
They’ll believe that it’s racial then they’ll stigmatize
Any creature who’s off-white and has slanted eyes.
Then our chaos looks calm and with little pretense.
Panic is the distraction this crisis provokes.

There will be lots of bullshit and beef that’s gone bad
Pumped into people’s mindsets if things go our way.
Our best bet is to blunder and waltz safely through
Then come up with a big relief plan that will screw
Everyone but the wealthy. They’ll hear what we say
Then go buying up toilet rolls like it’s a fad.

We’re prepared for the hoax. It’s a deadly disease.
As it sweeps across nations it claims many lives.
This one, fully awake now, will return to sleep.
We can purchase salvation that doesn’t come cheap
In this sick world where only the ‘fit’ one survives
Or we can look within for what peace we may seize.

Share The Day

Life Worth Recording

A great deal of affection is needed at times
When the world is afflicted with all that goes wrong
In the act of evolving and blending in well
With our own human nature. What’s cast a dark spell
On the ways of our living will not be here long
Though it will make us take a close look at our crimes.

When we’re sick we don’t know what to think of ourselves.
When we’re well, then our sense of compassion and love
Seems to take a back burner to business at hand.
Overlooking whatever we don’t understand,
We are left with relying on help from above.
It becomes academic wherein the soul delves.

 We can all live in harmony, or we cannot.
There’s no gray zone to play with. Lives are being lost
To the backlash of nature. Her lesson is clear
To all hearts that will open and ears that will hear.
Greed and selfish endeavor come at a great cost.
Simple fruits of the spirit, like love, can’t be bought.

Et Tu, Toupee?

Vanity in the Breeze

Who would want to come near me? I’ll chop off their heads
At the least provocation. They get on my nerves.
I teach them how to worship. They’re good for a while
But they do have their limit. When it’s reached then I’ll
Play the innocent victim who rightly deserves
Full relief from my office which now hangs by threads.

Would they all dare betray me as I have done those
Who, because of my rashness, fall prey to my wrath?
Since I’m such a great genius, I thought I’d do well.
Circumstances now show me the worst side of hell.
Would some guidance from Satan reveal the right path
Through this turbulent tenure with hate to impose?

My delusions protect me from what is to come.
The back hand of a gentle breeze brings into view
Some vice versa to vanity captive in truth.
What is much more disgusting and truly uncouth
Is that my poor performance and pride blown askew
Is the best I can offer… But don’t call me dumb.

{Title and Content Inspired by Autumn of Black and Orange Tarot. Thanks!}

A Defiant Tone

Impervious to Outrage

Love is much about secrets kept from everyone
For the ones who in gaiety only find room
In a safe-fitting closet to let their hair down.
Every human deserves a good night on the town
With spectacular plumage and scent of perfume.
Resolution in vigor cannot be undone.

Conflict with friends and family is the routine
Most accustomed to. Argumentation ensues
Like the touch of the feather that tickles the truth
And releases the war hero from the phone booth
To defend most aggressively progressive views
In a world that regresses to depths most obscene.

Defiant are those willing to dance in the light
With enlightened conviction to be who they are.
Darkness feeds fearfulness and the acts that it breeds.
As light casts away fear our whole species proceeds
Toward benign evolution. Can we go that far?
When in darkness we’re blind. Does it make sense to fight?

Pro-Lifers For Death

Values In Conflict

A Hot Day for a Hanging with tea and some shade
Or a damned bitter cold one with no common sense
Is a day worth rejoicing our own Christian way.
We’re a large group. Hear what ignorance has to say.
What is chosen as scripture is for our defense.
If you’re bad You Should Die, for from God you have strayed.

Submerged in allegory, the bible inspects
The collective unconscious who knows what is right.
Mirroring human nature over centuries,
It’s a vast pool of answers arranged to appease
Those who haven’t been saved yet. Ours is a tough fight.
Any darkness within us the bible protects.

It was in the beginning as it should be now
That we be the police force of moral concern.
Life remains ever precious ‘til we decide death
Is what God has decided. With our dying breath
We continue to teach to all fools who would learn
How to judge and what actions should raise the eyebrow.

We choose life over death. Women must know their place
In this kingdom on earth. As the earth, she is made
To be plowed through and walked upon by everyone.
She must take it in stride just as God’s only son.
Turn the other vagina, and don’t be afraid.
The abuse you receive now is of Eve’s disgrace.

Every fetus brought forth is a function of man.
Created in God’s image, man knows what is best
For the seed he as planted in anyone’s land.
Pregnancies are all wanted because they’re man planned.
It is vital that our view is firmly expressed.
Living is much to die for. It’s how all began.

Nationalistic Retribution

Confronting Calamity

What is up with you, Nigga! You act like a fool
Who instead of fried chicken prefers the Big Mac.
We elected a black man, then did it again.
White men can’t let that happen once more. If and when
Someone other ascends, they unleash an attack
On the core of our government by tyrant rule.

Some folks are rather lazy. They shuffle around.
But they can be of value when whipped into shape
By the pale overseer who stays overseas
And revives racial hatred, the human disease
Where when one is infected there is no escape.
In this nation of ours, good white niggers abound.

It’s a stark retribution that’s now taking place
In plain sight with no pretense nor feeling of shame.
Indeed, those with inferior genes will feel pride
In full-blown civil warfare. They take it in stride.
Psychotically prophetic is the end game.
Maybe then all will know that spirits don’t have race.

Inflatable Leadership

Rubber Extravaganza

Runaway inflation of the powers that be
Resembles that of thin rubber stretched to the max.
Hot air made more expensive as vote time draws near
Is bought up at a premium for the austere
Presentation of platform. Who dares to relax
When there’s so much at stake for the best nominee?

Must one be like the creature who puffs up its face
To appear more ferocious to fend off attack
In a civil democracy? If this is true
Then would staying full blown be the right thing to do
To maintain proper governance as a comeback?
Personalities must expand for the big race.

Our time-honored tradition of pumping up pride
Has evolved over centuries to what is now
Problematic as ever. But it’s what we’ve got.
Civil war seems most likely the sinister plot
Of dark forces incumbent who’ve taken a vow
To reveal all the weaknesses we’ve failed to hide.

Banana Republican

Nationalized Corruption

White man want a banana? Just follow the lead
On the path through entitlement to the big top.
Everyone loves a circus. To watch knuckles drag
Makes for prime entertainment. The wealthy may brag
Of an elite republic against the backdrop
Of its qualified citizens who can’t succeed.

That the course that we’re taking resembles that of
Other nations corrupted by way of our greed
Is the hugest of ironies. But that’s the way
The republican party must dish out dismay.
The essential banana becomes monkey feed.
They’ve the right and the willingness to push and shove.

Bananas, as they perish, are home to fruit flies
Who suck up the last sweetness before the decay
While the skin remains virgin except for the change
In the texture and color. This circus is strange
As it once was a party that had its own say
But is now one that real folk are well to despise.

Take A Break

Self-Maintenance

Take full comfort in knowing your place on the earth
Is prepared in advance of your humble debut.
Barrow time is expressive. Creation is fun.
Making time to relax cannot be overdone.
Take a well-deserved break from the work that you do.
It is up to you only to value your worth.

Be romantic and playful with your given time.
By directing the drama you set yourself free
From the things that cause stress and do harm to the health.
Taking care of oneself is the key to true wealth.
What could be more important to you than to be
In a state of contentment? It’s truly sublime.

You work hard at your living and making ends meet.
To maintain your alignment with all that you are
Is of ultimate value in playing your part
In the world’s evolution. The beat of your heart
Satisfies as the timepiece efficient by far
To the humdrum machine of the cherished elite.

The Charmer

Graceful Command And Control

Pre-perceiving her nature, the beast, made aware
Of a comforting spirit, will flow to her lead.
For within the reflection two souls intertwine.
Consciousness is of caring wherein love will shine.
In the heat of compassion both spirits are freed
From the will to be separate and not a pair.

Gracefulness is The Charmer. Her delicate touch
Is the essence of masterful feminine reign.
Mighty forces are tamed not by brutal control
But by interconnection achieved through each soul.
What it takes is a Charmer to win a campaign
Not a white male Russianlican. We’ve had too much!

Can we stand resolution of our lethal flaws?
That will take much evolving. Perhaps centuries
Will have passed before humans have learned how to love
On a wide enough scale that no one is above
Any other. Until such time, honor’s trustees,
In the form of fine women, shall tame that which was.

Cubic Justice

Creative dissolusion

What occurs on Fifth Avenue could be a crime.
It depends on how well it’s played out in the cube.
Quadrilateral justice with votes up or down
Is the way to clear outlaws in government town.
Senators who were well paid will pump up the droob.
The swamp hasn’t been emptied. It’s now legal slime.

Arrogance becomes cubic for all to behold.
What is seen is a mockery on the world stage.
We’re a toddler brat nation. Our mother, the queen,
May be glad we’ve detached from their ruling machine.
Can we catch up on wisdom and then turn the page
To a brighter new chapter? What peace may unfold?

Cubic Justice is futile. It can’t stand the test
We The People administer. It Will Fall Flat!
In the country’s best interest, must we behave
As the brutal slave master’s most tractable slave?
We are much more in touch with our freedoms than that.
Can we look at the circus and hope for the best?

Hay, Yo, Pom Pay Your Way O…

The Birthplace of Kansas

You have small banana, and you need to go home
Where some munchkins may follow. The yellow brick road
Finds its way into Kansas for prophets of God.
What is pompous to Him indeed is a façade.
Meeting up with Him soon means your heart may explode
Due to pressure and guilt from the soul search syndrome.

Live the red state of mind. I don’t need to be kind.
Head and shoulder the hayseed to see just how far
The bread basket of pompenstance reaches for fame.
Bought credentials and background fulfill the end game
To appear to be Christian to placate the czar.
Now I know I’m in Kansas. It screws with my mind.

Spirituality is a thing become vile
In a mixture of hogwash to whitewash the truth.
“Ad astra per aspera?” Why shoot for the stars?
Can your difficulties be more sacred than ours?
Dare I turn my nose up to the arrogant youth?
Therapeutic it is, therefore, it is worthwhile.

Witnesses For The Defense

Motley Travesty

Any thug deserves witnesses for a mock trial
Even though they’re not relevant. This must be done
For the crook in the white house. There’s no other way
Senators can acquit him. Those bought can’t betray
What malignancy sources them. Others must shun
What amounts to a shit show in full circus style.

Why not call in Buggs Bunny and Bozo the Clown?
I’m sure they could bring clarity. Truth they would speak.
Even though they’re not real creatures, that’s just the point.
I could conjure a few after smoking a joint.
Colonel Sanders could testify with bone in cheek
To help give truth and justice the hearty thumbs down.

With the famed Harvard Douchewits and cum-stain-dress Starr
Nothing else may be needed for honor’s defeat
In this one of more battles surely to take place
In the halls of democracy. “It’s a disgrace,”
The defendant must utter in stark blind conceit
Until We as a nation retake who we are.

Carrotface

Psychotic Armaggedon

People know of my orange glare. It’s now world renowned.
All I have in this world is my balls and my face.
Who puts all things together? I do. I trust Me.
You’ll get used to the rust flush eventually.
I’m entitled to everything due to my race
Even though I’m not qualified nor am I sound.

This great nation is pussy that begs to get fucked.
I’m the best one to do it with help from my boss.
In my own right I’m ruthless but he is supreme.
I endeavor to be like him. That is my dream.
What I crave is some bitch’s face to cum across.
I’ve a God given right to abuse and obstruct.

All cockroaches and rabbits succumb to my rule.
They will eat of my face and drink my precious blood.
They will bow down and worship unto my command.
Those who take a good fucking sit at my right hand.
History will ensure that my name will be mud.
I’ll be known through eternity as The Orange Fool.

Stable Genius

Horse Sense

Presidents need a stable? This one must think so.
Does he think that the ‘s’ word begins with a ‘c’?
If a c-table jenius could ever exist,
This one fits that description, though he may insist
That he can play both roles most superlatively.
What the hay may be chewed by is now become show.

He’s the boss of his stable. His berated beasts
Bow in brutal benevolence broad-based in fear.
Commanding them to whinny to will of his whim
Can never be sufficient to pacify him.
While alone in the stable, thought renders austere.
Hay becomes less fulfilling as everyday feasts.

As his soul places women abreast to the mare,
And as ample uprising becomes the world cry,
We may know he’d have made a fine pimp were he black
And brought up in the real world of danger and lack.
Blacks who do become president don’t cheat and lie
To the hoodwinked cult following who’d keep them there.

 For the head of a horse’s ass, horse sense is keen
In its handling of stables and sorting manure
From the hay most appropriate for state tv.
Smart is he who can horse around? Let that not be
What the nation must settle for, lest we endure
Leadership by the stupidest ass ever seen.

sambo donaldo

Ridicule

What an odd nigger sambo! That’s not a white face.
It’s more of a rust color due to failing health.
No doctor will go near him to tell him he’s ill.
He’ll decry what may help him. He’s caught in the thrill,
Having worldwide attention on his perceived wealth.
He cannot see that soon he will bow in disgrace.

‘Such a little orange sambo, this eight-year-old child
In the form of an old man with many fake toys.
Superficial connections work out as best friends.
How important decisions are made all depends
On how much adulation the ego enjoys
In the heat of the moment. Often, they’re reviled.

Yes, I’ll mock your behavior. I’ll put your ass down!
That is, if that is possible. You May Be There
At the pit of a black hole with inverse effect,
Pushing everything outward. With all disrespect,
I will cheer in this new year when you are laid bare.
Your recalcitrant flock will see that you’re a clown.

Trollfactory Bulb

Toxic Awareness

Fake spam comments from Russia a half a mile long
Are the only ones I get. At least I exist.
Yet you need not enlighten me. My sense of smell
Keeps me mindful of danger. Though you may excel
At controlling behavior, your work is dismissed
As a dark and faint echo of having done wrong.

At least write in plain English. Cyrillic I don’t know.
It looks too much like hogwash imbedded with spew
Of the coldest resentment the heart can withstand.
You can speak with my accent. I know that you can
Act as if you’re the best friend that I ever knew.
I became keen to your sickness some time ago.

I once worked at a factory. Dog food they made.
I lasted ‘til near lunchtime. The smell made me sick.
I don’t feed my dog dog food. I know better now
How people out gross animals. I made a vow
To trust in the olfactory. Smell is the trick
To discerning the fear bear. I am not afraid.

You’ve invented the troll farm. We know that by now.
Trolls are lowly paid workers who work with no light.
They can see what they’re doing by watching we fools
As we flail about aimlessly with broken rules.
What I offer to all is my deepest insight
For what it may be worth and what you may allow.

More Arguments

Face Wars

Legal Ordnance doth fly as the Eagle must try
Like the dickens to get its discomfort across.
Unexpected encounters of the social kind
Take on added significance. Some are inclined
To blame their instability on the coin’s toss
Or the acts of ‘the other’ as laws may apply.

We’ve become quite the coin, now, of binary face.
We’re of primary color yet shy just a few
Of the ones deemed essential. The sight of the old
Only replays the nightmare. I am self-controlled.
I’ve become too complacent in that which is true
Yet I feel the commitment to argue my case.

Arguments and Agreements, because they compare
To most basic dichotomies, share the same core
Which, in essence, is freedom from stagnant discourse.
Language should be alternative to using force.
Having played in the crossfire, should I want for more?
It makes sense to speak softly and to be aware.

On Embracing The Change

United In Transformation

Eclipses can be good things but rough to get through.
When most light becomes darkness much more than a while
I can know it will pass as all hellish things do.
May I look far beyond it and embrace the new?
I’ll stand up to the ruggedness not with a smile
But a mindset restructured to new points of view.

Doomed to become historic, this time has its place
Among cyclic phenomena. All moments must
Come to profound significance if I want growth.
Between now and what’s possible I can’t choose both.
I must make my decision infused with the trust
That this cosmos of consciousness bathes me in grace.

The upcoming conjunction of soul, heart and mind
Is a meeting of powers who are made of me.
Jupiter and Uranus shall usher insight
Of an expansive nature. Things do turn out right.
Letting go of what is now… Can this set me free?
I claim choice in the answer. I am that resigned.

Butt Science Asshology

Climate Fate

Climate science is one that has taken some heat.
Many pseudo sciences become the real thing
After years of persistence with none to oppose
What their goals and their premises are. In the throes
Of emergent world crises, what hope might they bring
That the butt holding office will soon see defeat?

The fine art of Asshology thus came about
When the need to decipher the demonic realm
Manifested in essence some three years ago
When we bent for a butt fucking, rock hard and slow.
To predict when perversion will reach overwhelm
Is the goal of Asshology without a doubt.

So the chart of the asshole one needs to construct.
Fairly gross a procedure, it’s fundamental
As a tool to make sense of the drama at play.
Wise folk eons before us could foresee this day.
Human actions are finite in time’s rationale.
We know well he who lives to Abuse and Obstruct.

Force Space

babel

Space Is First of the last of the final frontiers.
We are best to ‘Control the Ultimate High Ground.’
In defending our space junk, we must plan ahead

Making sure space weapons are strategically spread.
Once our force was a weak one, but we’ll be renowned.
Reinvention of Star Wars is how this appears.

We have space to make force with. Life functions because
There is space for action and reaction to be
Coexistent and interdependent. As such,
Space for Force speaks of strength, so it’s encouraged much.
This invites thoughts of Babel by spatial degree.
As we look toward the top, we return to what was.

‘As above, so below’ is an apt axiom,
A bit tainted though, in this inhuman regard.
We’ve made hell of earth’s surface, its water and air.
We are now seven billion, yet not enough care.
Space remains ever sacred and will not be marred
By a fool who thinks this tower should earn income.

Erection Meddling

Intercollusion

When we hold our erections, we want none involved.
We abhor interference from forces outside
This place we call our own. Keep your hand far away.
If you can’t respect boundaries, at least obey
Your own sense of perversion? Why sully your pride?
You should get your subconscious, through Sigmund, resolved.

Our erections are sacred. We hold them freely.
It’s our right and an honored tradition. That’s why
Sex abuse is illegal throughout most the globe.
As your winged, peeping monkeys watch as we disrobe,
We would wish it’s good for you, but that you not try
To tell us that a hand job from you is our key.

I’m prepared for Erectionfest this time around.
The last time that we had one, a strange, foreign touch
Assaulted my excitement. My heat took a dive.
For the next, we’re enhanced with a stronger sex drive.
Once again, our erections we venerate much.
We now know where that hand is. Indeed it’s been found.

A Wishy Wash

Global Laundry Crisis

It’s a wash no one wishes on anyone’s world
When within one’s right mind there is nothing to see
But full drawers of clean laundry. Do Not take a breath
As the smell of this cleanliness may cause one’s death.
Citizens who of left mind just want to be free.
What has been convoluted must then be unfurled.

Many billions of children at play in their rooms
After many an eon have left earth a mess.
We are not home alone, as our mother is here
Yet our father is elsewhere, not meant to be near.
We’re hard pressed to invent him with any success
And the unending filthy wash cycle resumes.

As the traitor species, we’ve made ourselves awash
In our own filth and grime. But we are like the child
Who attends not to discipline. We’ve no concern
But for needs of the moment. What then can we learn?
And can our past activity be reconciled?
As we look at our laundry we’ll lose our panache.

Long Live The Queendom

Feminine Game

Women’s voices bear wisdom. That they should be heard
Without question or scrutiny just as are men
Is the issue evolved over eons of time.
Women do as most men do, but then it’s a crime.
We excel at technology but we must then
Take the leap toward enlightenment. It’s been deferred.

To be treated as children is not half the crime
Perpetrated on half of the human genome.
It’s a death blow to growth and an insult to be
Of the most sacred feminine. What we now see
Is the subtle emergence from fear back to home.
It’s a shame that this has taken such a long time.

Women tend to be steadfast, more one with the earth,
And less prone to snap judgements that are ego based.
We’re in great need of balance and meaningful change.
Only women provide that. How can this sound strange
Since our trust in the kingdom is clearly misplaced?
That which nature respects more is given more worth.

Praise, and Long Live The Queendom! She stands in the sea
With a blindfold and scales and a message of love
To oppressed, huddled masses… indeed, to us all.
In this garden of Eden, the only great fall
Is man’s satanic fantasy. Yet far above
What’s been kept underfoot is the will to get free.

Worst Case Scenarios

Agony of National Fever

What if our choice becomes ill and Trump wins again?
Incomplete multi-whammies are par for the course
As the hot flaming golf carts careen in the blind.
Who can’t see We The People are through being kind?
It would provide due justice to see some remorse
In the small group of dastardly, arrogant men.

Yet, would that be the worst case? We could burn in hell
By executive edict for due disrespect.
A scorched land of slave owners and slaves we could be.
Brutal force would be used. People would disagree.
More like animals we’ll be with tribe to protect.
Civil war will destroy us before we get well.

The spectra of scenarios given the gut
From the mind boiling over with deep discontent
Is the illness that ails every breath of cool air.
How much longer will I know but rabid despair?
Using Christ as the tool to bring on our descent
Is the nature of why we are in this sick rut.

Made Afraid In America

Looming Disaster

To be Made In America is to believe
In one nation united with justice for all.
Is it too high an ideal for me to achieve
With my brothers and sisters who hopelessly grieve?
Can the statute of liberty survive its fall?
We are made not by ourselves. Let’s not be naïve.

Consciousness is the Wild West of human concern.
It’s been made a commodity. Nations partake
In intelligence warfare to program the mind
To behave in such ways that are much more aligned
With their sinister interests. Should we come awake,
We’ll have overcome fallout and nuclear burn.

I remember Chernobyl, the horrid mishap
That they tried to keep hidden. But word got around.
We’re within the first half-life of something much worse.
The decay of the human soul completes the curse
Cast upon us. But maybe new hope can be found
As we discern the enemy’s will to entrap.

Metamorphic McMagnet

Narcotic Nostalgia

Seems the AC’s and DC’s are at it again
Like a scene at McDonalds among dueling fries.
It was back in the old days when burgers were best.
Feeding fast food to congress would be the best test
Of intestinal fortitude and compromise
For a body of divided women and men.

There’s a magnetization that has taken place.
It’s called ‘polarization’ to those in the field
Of magnetic alignment to one of the two
Choices possible, maintaining one’s narrow view.
When there’s been enough outrage, perhaps truth will yield
A safe space for deep healing and ultimate grace.

That which soon will degauss us cannot come through men
Nor through whites nor rich old folk detached and aloof.
It will come with our women, the young and nonwhite.
We The People are varied. We each bear the right
To full representation. We are junk food proof.
May we cherish our digestive health once again.

United In Fever

Conflagration

To build up to a Fever it doesn’t take much…
Just a call to be human. No problem. That’s done.
Where’s the next entertainment as drama unfolds?
We pretend we know not of what our future holds.
Through the heat, to a new day, what now has begun
Is the reaching for justice. It’s now within touch.

But while in such a Fever of heightened degree
Due to blatant misconduct and unbridled greed,
Mayhem can be expected. Delirium speaks
In a manner most violent. It lasts for weeks.
For the top down is planted the virulent seed
That the roots of humanity feel they are free.

We’re United In Fever as one human race
Though divided we are in which sides we embrace
And the fact that there are sides is something of note.
Leadership that is side-less is the antidote
For the Fever that ails us. So red in the face
Is the view that is offered until there comes grace.

Why The Devil May Care

Dirty Deal

I know not of the devil. If such knows of me,
Then I’m not me. Someone else possesses that soul.
We would swear that the devil’s delight in despair
Can’t effect a good outcome. We then should beware
Of the red-handed handshake lest we lose control
Of our spirit, and therefore our life’s destiny.

Are some friends with the devil? Odd creatures are they
Who can bypass the probable all in good fun.
God bless those who, in conscience, can cast to the wind
Any notion suggesting that they may have sinned.
We’d wish only and quickly that justice be done
So that those who aren’t friendly can go on their way.

Why The Devil Should Care is the question to ask
Oneself if there’s a hint of a doubt in one’s deeds.
Devils don’t deal in caring. They speak in bold lies.
That they are our top leaders is no big surprise.
What the devil cares mostly about are his needs
And to get them fulfilled is one hell of a task.

Troubled Towers And Walls

Nursery Grime

Were you born ‘Trumpelstiltskin’ you wouldn’t have been
So well-known by the name – more so by your ill deeds.
You would not have been overheard by the Queen’s men.
Her poor father, the miller, would yet sin again.
To turn straw into gold, one begins with gold seeds.
Will your own miller’s daughter be sent to the pen?

Will you scramble and fry well before the great fall
As your towers magnificent melt like the ice
In the warming earth climate your fool mind denies?
I do find entertainment in your self-demise.
If you do make it through this, perhaps you’ll think twice
About playing a big game when you are so small.

Build That Wall and sit on it! Your fall is in sight.
It’s a long time in coming. The death that I felt
On the night I was gangraped comes full circle now.
Hindsight is but a luxury all can allow.
How do you feel about this trump card you’ve been dealt?
May your fairytale end as our future grows bright.

Malefic Colonoscope

Colon Specific

A head made for examining places obscene
Is the best of a woman. This world view will change.
Will the goddess of old step aside for the new?
Will she be brushed asunder, her path laid askew
By upcoming young Goddesses? Can it be strange
That procedures be undone due to ill routine?

There are those who, nostalgic for good times gone past,
Need a detailed report on the colonic health
Of the king who she works for. The news sparks their hopes
That all women can be trained to be endoscopes.
It is made more appealing when tied to some wealth
And the praises of men through their lifetimes will last.

I won’t look at that colon. Suffice it to feel
On some subsonic level what goes on up there.
My head must be above all that causes distress.
All the feminine power that we now suppress
Is approaching expression. Is this but a prayer?
Naturally prophetic, it shall become real.

The Malignant Malingering

Impaired Executive Function

It’s a long time in coming. A change in game plan
Is now unfolding vividly. No coverup
Can be made to be foolproof. The world clearly sees
Conflagration of trouble due to his disease.
One who deals in delusion will drink from this cup.
Is the doctor in trouble or is the con man?

A quick trip to the hospital on a work night
May suggest some activity might have occurred
Involving hypertension or panic attacks
And those close in his circle must all watch their backs.
We must tell the world nothing. This way is preferred.
This is not a good story. We must spin it right.

Soon the president will be given the big choice.
He will quit due to illness as all play along.
Never mind that he’s not ill – just screwed in the head.
If he keeps the shit up, pretty soon he’ll be dead.
One who’s sick and in office confounds what is wrong.
There may soon come a reason that all may rejoice.

A Night Of Awakening

Hope

The vampires and the zombies compete on the stage
As their werewolves howl constantly into this night.
It becomes fairly fecal. The sponsored live stream
Drives the country to consciousness, as in a dream.
Feeble sounds mocking justice are silenced by light.
All that’s missing from this scene is fervent outrage.

Nestled in the fluidity, we may see stars…
Bright but blurred in our vision, they do but their best
As they have always done. It’s ingrained in their souls.
Noble service and duty are their only goals.
With the issues at hand finally put to rest
We may return to daylight by healing our scars.

The night sky is a spectacle for human eyes.
So attracted to contrast, they follow the flow.
Seeing aesthetic balance is best for all sides
Of the One coin united. The one who divides
Will go down in world history as a great foe.
We will soon be awakened to friendlier skies.

Infrared Neck

Visual Revelations

Is the image of heat loss enough to evoke
Irritation and feeling stiffness in the neck?
It may be therapeutic to use infrared
To support diagnosis – not to be misled.
Why elude the believer? It’s proper to check
With a sensitive instrument to see what broke.

We should care for our Gelicals in the best way
Because Evan delivers the pain in their necks.
Redness responds to infra because it’s below
And indeed further on to where people can go.
An aching for a race war is not so complex.
Simple minds need a leader to plan out their day.

The right book states an Imperfect Vessel shall come
And his mission to usher in Armageddon
Is fulfillment of prophecy. What a delight!
Those who beam up to rapture will only be white.
All religion is human. Spirit makes us one.
Consciousness is an illness. We can overcome.

Volcanic Defecation Forecast

Extreme Privacy

A big blast from the small room where bathing takes place
Is the source of embarrassment for the house guests.
They know no one is bathing. The sound that they hear
Is the elimination of what causes fear.
The host must take accounting for what he digests.
A loud dump is the outcome before the disgrace.

In the Oval Office there is no air-tight room
With a stainless-steel toilet to muffle the sound
Of the violent expulsion of all the ill deeds
Because many an investigation proceeds.
The whole world braces for the bowel movement profound.
It’s a gross revelation of impending doom.

The blast comes in the form of a soundbite of news
Telling of something horrid. It gets even worse.
It will grow to a shit stream of disgusting facts.
We have not heard the worst of this wicked man’s acts.
The alarm is our knowing that soon the foul curse
Will be lifted from us. This man will pay his dues.

Bowels can be rather noisy, occasionally.
It’s a sign that we haven’t been treating them right.
If we stuff them with evil for decades on end
They will shout with a loud voice. They do not pretend
That they haven’t been messed with. Our future is bright.
The White House is no outhouse. They will come to see.

Women And Power

Strategy In Power

When and how to use force are the questions to ask
Among so many others before waging war.
We’d prefer conversation and working things out
Yet throughout all our history there’s little doubt
That we are prone to fight and to even the score.
When it comes to destruction we’re up to the task.

Have there been female generals in the wars past?
Who knows how they would fight and what harm they could do?
There are some of a fortunate few who could tell
Of the hell they went through that we cannot know well.
We know only of fighting men. Women, we view,
As still much less than lethal and of lower caste.

Women have been in office, but playing the game
On a man’s world stage and with the rules now in place
Is a leadership lacking in human resolve.
We can remain one-sided in how we evolve
But our old ways embellish our racial disgrace.
When women define power things won’t be the same.

Day Of Tough Love

Antidote

It’s The Day Of The Dove… or perhaps of Tough Love
That resembles the justice that must become due.
There’s an alien creature that feeds on our hate.
We’ve become deeply sided. We cannot see straight.
Civil War is its true wish, and its point of view
Is the sole source of nourishment it can speak of.

Not on earth did it come from. It just floated in.
A hot gas of no substance, it draws energy
From the drama of chaos which once were the lives
Of its innermost circles. He alone survives
Until those who’d been enemies finally see
How the creature is harming them, to its chagrin.

All our sides deal with one foe. The nation is not
One that can be divided and sapped of its worth.
We can laugh at the enemy and take delight
In the fact that the laughing will drive it from sight.
Such a creature should never take over the earth.
Life is like science fiction. They share the same plot.

Did Someone Use The ‘L’ Word?

Hang 'Em High!

Did Someone Use The ‘L’ Word? Who sounds the alarm
That I must pay attention to? Is it for me
Or someone who is like me? Who does it come from?
You don’t look like my brother who has overcome
Lethal racial injustice, and I cannot see
That your well-deserved drama is causing you harm.

Wash your mouth out with history, ignorant fool!
Having no sense of dignity, joke genius plays
Any card that seems feasible in delusion.
It may seem like a hanging to you, brilliant one,
Since you’re caught up in all kinds of trouble these days.
But your red neck will never know something so cruel.

You know nothing of lynching. Your analogy,
Like the others you come up with, are an insult
Belching forth from entitlement. You will soon be
With the criminals like you who see as you see.
Some who speak about lynching are those of a cult
Most accustomed to spewing incongruency.

The Proper Disposal Of Black Hole Waste

Magnetic Personality

When disposing of black holes, protection is wise
In the way of great distance and lawful technique
To avoid the horizon. Events taking place
Do resemble spaghettification in space.
As the king’s men begin stretching, so they will freak.
Having gotten too close, they have sealed their demise.

Black holes start out as big stars, but then they grow old
Such that their massive egos begin to cave in
Drawing all who are near into utter darkness.
So distorted are their minds, no need to confess
And come free would occur to them. Is this their sin?
Is it that they’ve become the horizon threshold?

Stars that die can be menacing and a real threat
To all matter around them and within their fields
Of executive influence through slight of mind
And a stale, foolish tactic pulled from the behind.
We can make time and distance most effective shields
Along with a good lesson this world won’t forget.

Whistles Blowing

Danger There!

Many people blow whistles rather than ignore
What they see as their duty to country and God.
Whistles are used because they can make a loud sound.
If lifeguards did not use them, many would be drowned
Or become living shark feed, or victims of fraud.
Any person can use one. It’s not such a chore.

One’s attention is called, when a whistle is blown,
To detail of the nature of danger perceived.
It is up to those listening to give support
And protection to those brave enough to report
Ways in which We The People are wrongly deceived.
Such are people of honor and solid backbone.

Many whistles are blowing not unto deaf ears.
As the drama unfolds upon our earthly stage,
Punctuated with danger on levels complex,
One can see that we live as the future expects.
What we have is a chance to rewrite the next page.
What prevents us from doing so remains our fears.

Election Mode

The Promisory Nature of Politics

In the space of four years’ time, a lot can get done
But what gets done depends quite a bit on which mode
Leadership is locked into. One can’t be in both
Working Mode and Election Mode. One takes the oath
To work but for this country. Honor is bestowed
On the leader who knows we are second to none.

The election campaign is an aberrant glitch
In the internal workings of democracy.
Never ending, news cyclic, and wasteful, campaigns
Are a circus for many, but few will reap gains
As the balance of work done we’re not meant to see.
Who become the needy, We The People enrich.

In Election Mode, most leaders look far ahead
As if they have a strategy and enough charm
To stay hired for another term. Others are blind
To the nature of leadership of any kind.
They are put into place to dispense utter harm
As their foolish decisions beget death and dread.

A Supreme DUI Judge

Horror

It’s not that I’ve no content. I’ve got that and more.
Politics interrupts, then I push things aside
That are worthwhile discussing rather than a guy
Who could be a fine poster boy for DUI.
He’s quite fond of the froth. He admits that with pride.
Does he share this with colleagues passed out on the floor?

I like beer. I’ll admit it. But I’m not a judge.
So I guess if you’re privileged, it scores a plus.
I throw many a tantrum. I don’t get my way.
I do hope that this madman is not here to stay.
He got in underhandedly. What’s to discuss
When a judge acts the fool and the right do not budge?

Can you look at this punk’s face and find justice there?
The question is not legal. Faces are allowed
To display bouts of lunacy. Justice, therefore,
Is a drunken perverseness. What may be in store
For the beer boasting psycho behind the black shroud
Is a seat on a prison bench. Would that be fair?

…Maybe not. Perhaps DUI justice is more
Apropos to the temperament and core belief
That some people get what they deserve by virtue
Of the fate that has branded them for life to screw.
Until he takes that robe off, to me, he’s a thief.
Justice that isn’t justice is hard to ignore.

Psychic Peek At A Puter

Crack of Putin

Something like a computer, a Vladimir Puter
Assumes an identity somewhat human.
An asshole of a neural net masters the mind
In the mold of a tyrant for all humankind
Who had nearly succeeded in his master plan
To reshape the whole world to what he would prefer.

Still, a world class accomplishment to have sewn hate
Throughout many a nation, he feels not that well.
His own people are waking up from their deep sleep
In a bitter cold governance as frozen sheep.
Why does he not feel powerful? Close aids can tell
Unidentified enemies may seal his fate.

True… this Puter likes poison. It’s lethal and sure
To eliminate nuisances who misbehave.
Some soldier in the galley knows of his fine taste
And is feeding him slowly. Soon he will be waste.
What would be then most fitting to put on his grave?
“Once there lived a great Puter. Now he is manure.”

The Emperor Has No Tower

Vacated Democracy

Many flags for one’s tower…? Which power has won
By the will of the ill-minded, drunk in their ways?
Are we slaves to white Arabs, Russian oligarchs
Or some other rogue players who swim with the sharks?
As the tower collapses, the world sings in praise.
Soon the sand heap that cripples the flag will be gone.

One can glance at the grossness of that naked hell.
Greasy food, nasty habits and foolish lifestyle
Filter through the flesh fabric and onto the flag
Reconfigured to serve as fine ditty rag…
But won’t take a fake tower. Bereft is his smile
Of a sense of conviction, but with lies to tell.

Is it too damned divisive to do what is right?
We are at civil war now. What time would work well?
…When the emperor completes his sinister plan?
Why let our lives be linked to the likes of Satan?
 These are stupid assed questions. I’m wise to dispel
What may come of that tower. The future seems bright.

Many things have a stupid ass, so it would seem.
Such a worthwhile expression suffices the need
To make sense of a real world become fantasy.
Towers honor the phallus most absolutely.
They won’t stand hard forever nor can they impede
The high tide of refocusing back on the Dream.

Disgrace

Realization of Self Undoing

It’s A Disgrace!
I didn’t know what I was headed for.
Now my ass is headed out the door.
Is this my fate?

It’s A Disgrace!
This world will not bow down and worship me.

I can’t face up to this reality.
I’m so irate.

It’s too late. I’ve gone too far. I’ve lost my base…

It’s A Disgrace!
I climbed a mountain someone made too high.

That someone helped me, I will flat out deny…
Just look at my face.

…So commonplace.
This job of president is not my style.
It doesn’t fit with my birthright to defile
But now it’s too late.

Life was great. It’s now bizarre. I’ve lost my place…

It’s A Disgrace!

…Too many losers, and not enough that I can bribe.
…Too many big deals, but not enough time.
…Too many secrets, and some that I can’t hide from you.
…Too many troubles. That’s why that I imbibe.

It’s too late. I’ve gone too far. I’ve lost my base…

Egg on my face….

That’s what will happen in a little while.
Congress may impeach or put me on trial…
Why can’t I think straight?

It’s A Disgrace!
I can’t predict the weather well behind bars.
Will the country ever heal from its czars?
Sharpies just don’t erase…

It’s too late. I’ve Gone too far. I’ve lost my base…

It’s A Disgrace!

 

 

Something BIG Is About To Happen

Profound Revelation

Information extracted from processed manure
To be polished and passed off as meaningful news
Is a thing become commonplace. Not much is real
But the buildup in tension that most real folk feel.
There’s just too much that’s missing from everyone’s views.
Why not check with the woo-woo folk just to be sure?

Some become all the wiser as they become source
Of alternative knowing. Truth is in demand
That cannot be forthcoming from they who must lie
To protect their network of deceit ‘till they die.
One need not be a psychic to well understand
That descent into darkness is par for the course.

Mother Earth has a hero… one Mother of one!
In fact, she has a dozen or so up her sleeve…
Or perhaps in her crystal ball. As we grow tense,
Call to action becomes urgent. And this makes sense.
Her next move is predicted by how we perceive
And respond to our worse hand. We may come undone.

Return To Love

Refreshing Alternative

Voices on the horizon emerge as the clouds
Convolute and then dissipate into the light
Of a newfound becoming welcoming the old.
What could come forth from what is that spirit foretold
Long before our humanity knew wrong from right?
What becomes not a miracle our hate enshrouds.

We meet The Holy Spirit by coming halfway
Between our blessed egos and that who we are.
There are no other sides besides inside and out.
All the others are egos constructed of doubt.
Yet we think that without them we cannot get far.
Egos can get us places… through stress and delay.

When the heart, all at once, feels the depth of its pain
At its height of intensity… Why only then
Is the spirit available? Miracles are
Things that were deemed impossible. We have come far
When we are in atonement with all we had been
Should one who leads by spirit be offered the reign?