Tag Archive | madness

Who They Are

The Deranged And Deplorable

Those who know who you are also know what you’ve done
And we know how far you will go to take away
Every right to protest you, including our votes.
Your evil and seditious savage psychic oats
Bring about death to women. May there come a day
When your sick righteousness has no power to stun.

To enlist spies and snitches to go and harass
Is to turn back the clock to the middle ages.
Our protection from COVID is not an issue
To old white men in high places who adhere to
Interests of big companies. Yet the wages
For malefic behavior you will not bypass.

You have been a few rounds, but we know who you are.
Tens of millions united of every party,
Race, and creed – you should know us in these times as well.
Since the swamp has been draining there’s been a bad smell
Permeating the nation. Yet democracy
Shall remain most resilient but with a deep scar.

We defeated you nicely in the recent past.
We’re as mad as hell and much colder than you are.
Elections now upcoming will be fights between
We who believe in freedom and those of obscene
Grasp of absolute power. Your fall will be far
To complete dissolution which ever shall last.

Memories Cherished

Indelible Impressions

Many kindhearted people, some angels by now,
And with uncommon patience, have made who I am.
What is wrong about me is my own tangled mess
Aggravated by madness. I am, more or less,
Created in the image of those who I damn
With my inverse reflection, full well knowing how.

Beating up on myself I’ve made into an art –
Just as those who cared for me and those who I played
An unworthy role model… ruthless and profane.
I took every advantage and caused awful pain.
With my bed made, I’m sleepless and cannot evade
The grotesque beast that I’ve been with sickness of heart.

Planted deep in my conscious soil germinates seed
From the heart of the righteous. Love once within reach
Now is longing disabled. Survival logic
Is a piss poor facsimile and a cheap trick.
This I’m fully aware of. Lessons others teach.
Acting out as the student, I had failed to lead.

Not at all melancholy, pleasure now I take
In the clearness of knowing what my makers knew
Since before I had met them. The thoughts I embrace
Generated by feelings of knowing their grace
Satisfy but the least that my writing can do
To give some indication that I’ve come awake.