Have you met the Who-Gee Boo-Gee Man?
He scammed fig leafs in the garden,
And **** cloth in Ottoman.

     outside-in, inside-out; upside-down, right-side up

The Who-gee Boo-gee Man can cuss.
He offers snake oil, spins a tale,
So you feel smart, healthy and hale.

     from top to bottom, bottom to top

The Who-gee Boo-gee Man can't stop.
He swrawls with a Sharpie pen.

     right is left, left is wrong

That's the Who-Gee Boo-Gee song.

Consultation for now is free,
No hidden added extra fees:
You buy two, you get three.

     north to south, east to west

The Who-Gee Boo-Gee Man won't rest.

I've heard his feet are cloven;
The eyes are yellow, lips look swollen;
He has *******, wears silk- woven.
He sweats like water to the lowest level;
He's quicker than the slyest devil,
Selling hell, but we hear heaven;
Doing so twenty-four seven.

He photo-shops secret desires,
Twists truth-tellers into liars;
Artful, wily, scheming, subtle,
The Who-Gee Boo-Gee's a hungry jackal.

     today is the day, yesterday's late,
     tomorrow's a place that just won't wait

I met up with the Who-Gee Boo-Gee Man,
Peddling apples from my jardain.

The innocent and the ignorant think it’s always just like the movies and criminal tv shows. A black eye, bruises, a battered and beaten woman crying in a shower or hospital bed. They always ask “why didnt you go to the police?!”

I can remember how it all started, even as far back as middle school. My neighborhood was the last stop for the bus which only left us the choice to sit in back with the bad kids, the older boys. They made me sit on their hands, talked about my *******, grabbed us, touched us and tormented us.

Unless she is black and blue, no one will believe she’s the victim.

He was going out for a smoke and I needed fresh air. I followed him up the stairs and somehow was at his room, he just had to grab his pack. I asked for a drink of water... I woke up, he had me completely immobilized with his body and just one hand, shirt up, pants down. I couldn’t move at all. “He knew I wanted it, that I liked it”... I tried to take control, I tried to ****** him to let me go. Finally I but his lip so hard he let me go. I left first thing the next morning.

I drank too much and I could not drive home, I asked to sleep a little at a friends house before driving home. He took that as an invitation for ***. He pushed and pushed and pushed and pushed despite adamant NO NO NO. I was a *****, a tease, what was I holding out for, he knew I wanted it... he finally got his way, I had no where else to go.

I’ve woken up to boyfriends touching me, having *** with me - somehow the understanding was that this is my duty as a girlfriend, conscious, willing or not...

These stories can go on and on. They didn’t beat me, I wasn’t battered and bruised but I was forced against my will. I knew there was no proof to support me, and who would believe the girl who stayed out too late, drank too much or gave in to her boyfriend.

Boys will be boys

I have witnessed this with many friends and was speechless to speak out... it’s not as easy as you think. It has become an expectation for women. Sometimes you finally give in just to make the harassment stop.

But there are those men, the ones that will take their time, that no means no, who realize there is time to get there if the feeling is right... we need more men like this.

Raise your boys right and your women strong.

❤️

The hateful state of the new american way
what a monstrous thing
we have made of the dream
fear rules the simple minded
and the simple minded don’t mind
the mess we have made of everything

history repeats itself
as we have learned nothing
from our past mistakes
rinse reload repeat
a brand new ****** day
for the new american way

not safe in the school yards
not safe in the churches
and synagogues
not safe in our own skin

how do we fight the monster
that stays invisible
until the moment it squeezes
the trigger of a gun full of bullets
from a heart full of hate

what has might ever made right
when war after war treaties are signed
but the peace that is kept
is nothing more than a powder keg
waiting to explode

unfortunately hatred
survived the holocaust too

The world takes a turn for the worst
and it’s a little less safe
and that is to say
the danger that was there yesterday
grew a little stronger today

how many more lies
will fools swallow
before the find their own little girl
not a little girl anymore
but a ghost of who could have been
nothing more than a broken thing

broken by a boy just being a boy
who will grow into a man
believing he can take
whatever he wants
when ever he wants it
and that no
somehow always means yes

that being drunk
is a good enough excuse
for any one
with the right kind of money
and the right kind of name
the kind that comes
from being born
in the right kind of skin

the kind that believes
its culture is a good culture
a good culture
where boys will be boys
who grow into men who are men
who are nothing
but cruel monsters
pretending to be human

Art has the unfortunate responsibility
of reflecting all the ugly truths
of the world
while at the same time
upholding the heavy burden
of hope

at the times breathing
becomes its hardest
we must inhale deeper
and transform the pain
in our lungs
and the doubts
in our own hearts
into something for others
to hold onto
to rest upon
to take refuge in

we must fight hate with love
give kindness the strength
to hold back cruelty
we must eat a little less
so those with nothing
will have something to eat

humanity may seem
to be slipping away
taking a step too far away
to ever come back
to ever remember
who we could be

and isn’t this a beautiful burden
this heavy weight upon our backs
and within our hearts

this feeling
that we are still alive
still able to breath
despite the pain

that we can still create
something out of the things
others would see destroyed

the ugly beasts
that dress like presidents
and kings with no clothes
with their ****** power
and their blatant lies

history will remember their crimes
as we will not let them be forgotten

tomorrow is not a day they own...

yet...

but if we want to take it back
we must start
by doing something today

remember

artist need other artist
to remind them
that there is still something left
in this world worth
making something beautiful for

and everyone

everyone of us
is an artist

so pick up your bricks
and your hammers
and your buckets of paint
and let your hearts
run wild through the streets
and start the taking of tomorrow
by turning the world
into something better today