Stop!
You're hurting her!
You ******* monsters, can't you see
you're all covered in blood!
Don't you hear her pleading?
Stop!
You ******* *******!
Stop cutting her,
and ******* in her face,
she's ******* choking,
take your hand off her throat.
Stop ****** my mother,
you inhumane fiends!
Can't you see?
She's your mother too.

The boys in tan,
gun in hand,
marching two by two.
The dogs of war,
trod across the sand,
they know not what they do.
The man in the high chair,
sends a message through the air,
this message isn't new.
It's us or them boys,
show them your new toys,
Turn their ancient cities,
and verdant fields,
into a blood and shrapnel stew.
Death is the name of the game,
yeah, I guess it is a shame,
but, what else can you do?
The pigs need their truffle feast,
this is the nature of the beast,
every bullet aids the turning of the *****.
You are the boys in tan,
and when foreign threats are removed,
come back home,
join the boys in blue,
and put your brothers beneath the boot.
You are the soul of civilization,
without you everything would crumble,
quicker than a foreign regime,
or the ranks of peaceful protesters,
who scatter like the sheep they are,
as you slam the baton down,
and open your mouth,
to receive your jerky treat.

That's because they don't want you to.
Because, if you did, they would be done for.
Nothing scares a wolf more
than 6 billion sheep, with razor sharp teeth.
Who can see through the false fleece
that the wolf has been hiding beneath
since before your mother's mother was born.

I would rather a leader
who is willing to laugh in the face
of his enemies,
as they spread their ridiculous lies.
Than a teleprompter reading Eunech,
with empty space between his thighs.

The cancer has spread too far,
the mass is too massive to be excised.
The chemo bag is secretly filled with carcinogens.
The pills they charge us a fortune for
are only placebos.
The last doctor died in 1963,
and the man in the white scrubs,
who rubs your hand, and says it will all be alright
is a card carrying servant
of the very cancer he professes to fight.
Nighty-Night little ones,
its time to turn out the light.

When they refuse to grab the rope
you've thrown down to them,
the only other way to help them out of the pit
is to climb down into it with them,
and let them climb out on your shoulders.
The question then becomes,
when they make it out
will they toss a rope in after you?
And if they do, will you grab it?

Everywhere I go,
I sow the seeds of sorrow.
I will bring you liberty,
but, you must do what I tell you.
I will free you from oppression,
if you get down on your knees.
I will spread law and order,
like I spread war and disease.
I will tell you what is wicked,
while I do as I please.
You know who I am,
you've belonged to me since birth.
I'm the stars and bars,
the whole world wears my scars,
and I'll bleed you for all you're worth.
It's a grand old flag,
and one day soon
It will reign over the earth.

We many,
with kindness at the core of our spirits
will not break,
even when they bend us over
and make us take it.
There is a temple of peace within us all
and the foulest vandals cannot deface it.
With nets of lies, and snares of deceit
they try to trap and contain
everything we hold dear,
but, love is not above
chewing through its own ankle,
and on ****** stumps we will stand up
in defiance of their hatred,
till the ones who rule through terror know
we are the ones that they should fear.

"You control our world. You’ve poisoned the air we breathe, contaminated the water we drink, and copyrighted the food we eat. We fight in your wars, die for your causes, and sacrifice our freedoms to protect you. You’ve liquidated our savings, destroyed our middle class, and used our tax dollars to bailout your unending greed. We are slaves to your corporations, zombies to your airwaves, servants to your decadence. You’ve stolen our elections, assassinated our leaders, and abolished our basic rights as human beings. You own our property, shipped away our jobs, and shredded our unions. You’ve profited off of disaster, destabilized our currencies, and raised our cost of living. You’ve monopolized our freedom, stripped away our education, and have almost extinguished our flame. We are hit… we are bleeding… but we ain’t got time to bleed. We will bring the giants to their knees and you will witness our revolution!" ~ Jesse Ventura

"Palestinian boy chucks rock at Israeli soldier.
Sixty-seven unarmed civilians killed in self defense,
against these evil terrorists. Prime Minister Netanyahu declares
'These continuos violent aggresive terrorist attacks against
the kind, freedom loving, law abiding people will not be tolerated.
If necessary we will **** countless more, until these monsters cease their terrorist attacks.' Senator Mccain, when asked about what he thinks about the situation said, 'I think Israel has every right to take justifiable military action against the terrorist government of Syria.'
Man on the street wearing a **** all ragheads tshirt says, 'All these heathen moslems are all the same. We don't need any reason to **** them, other than the fact that they hate us, and want us and Israel to be wiped off the map. These sandn*#@ers, are all irrational, racist, anti-semite, violent, camel ****** savages. I hate them, and if it wasn't for my extreme cowardice, I'd go over there and wipe them off the map myself.'  This is the thousandth case of Hamas terrorist aggression in the last year, and many experts believe that war against Iran will be necessary to stop the violence. Coming up after the commercial
'Are Prince Harry and Emma Watson seriously dating!?'

In the days to come, the streets shall be stained
from corner to corner, blood soaked stone,
that no amount of rain could ever wash clean.

In the days to come, we will fall down on our knees
or the bullet in the back of our head
will take our legs out from under us.

In the days to come, sweet music shall die,
a symphony of screams and sadistic laughter
shall echo from every hill top.

In the days to come, everyone who loves
will be hounded, found, rounded up
and dragged off for the slaughter.

In the days to come, innocence will be massacred
on the alter, piled high with the limbs, and caked
with the blood of the countless butchered children's bodies.

"I've seen the future brother,
It is ******"

Tongue cracked, bleeding lips,
throat sore, ragged lungs
the pain of screaming at the deaf,
the futility of all this wasted breath.

How many more have come before us,
only to beat themselves ******,
to break themselves against the wall of lies,
to surrender to the ones they despise.

Despair is their way of saying you already lost,
the agony is greater when you know the cost.
Its not for us or them or the world we live in
that I tried and failed, and a failure I'll die.

It is for the countless yet unborn,
who will come into this world
wearing the shackles
that we couldn't prevent them from fashioning.
It is for the world that we will leave behind,
and the babies that will look back on us
not with pride, or love, or deep respect,
but with sadness, disappointment and scorn.

For them I wish I was stronger.

We wrap ourselves in arrogant cloaks
of self serving florid words,
to shield us from our inability,
or perhaps it is unwillingness
to take action, and change the world
that we document, and moan about,
and on occasion glorify.
Is their anything more selfish
than slicing open your own history
and spilling it out for everyone to see,
and hoping for sympathy, empathy, or praise.
We who have been granted brushes of language
and a palette of poetic devices,
red metaphors, blue rhymes and yellow simile,
seldom paint anything that changes the world for the better.
Instead we paint by numbers,
the themes that have been exhausted
since before the first lampblack and gum stroke
on the first leaf of papyrus.
We hide, we hide from the horrors
behind our carefully crafted walls,
formed of subjects, and verbs mortared with clauses.
And we think we deserve even a droplet of the praise,
one leaf of the laurel, that has been placed on our heads,
because, when the emotion bubbles over,
and we cannot contain it any longer
we chuck a few verses over the wall,
shouting leave me out of it.
Sitting in our special little circles
we stroke each other, and hope that when we need it,
someone will stroke us back.
Yet, those who have the courage to step out
into the storm outside, the storm from which we hide,
fight and fall, and suffer all, while we pull our cloaks tighter
and compliment each other on how clever we are.
There is beauty, and nobility
and perhaps even divinity in poetry,
but it is a tragedy that most poets are cowards.

Truth, information dissemination, collaboration.
Free exchange of art,
without paying greedy producers, and publishers.
Unifying love motivated people,
aiding in support group organization.

The internet isn't only for ****, shopping,
and distracting us from the truth.

And no amount of **** site redirects, war game adware,
and celebrity secrets popups will conceal the truth forever.


No amount

Well Benny just bought some F-35's,
so he can hit Iran with no regrets.
He knows that Rupert will help him
and FOX will make sure the truth is supressed.

B-b-b-Benny and the Jets.

When Iran hits back then they'll spin the facts,
say the attack was unprovoked.
Benny thinks he's so slick,
but he's making mistakes
he might be the next one to get smoked.

B-b-b-Benny and the Jets.

He's got 400 Nukes,
chemical weapons too,
but you won't read that in a magazine, no, no.

B-b-b-Benny and the Jets.

And lo' the Eagle opened its eyes,
and saw that the Bear stood by his side,
and together they fell upon the Dragon,
and when the dust settled, and the beast was slain,
peace and love and light was all that remained.

You did it!
Finally, you have won!
So much effort, so much campaigning,
so much false emotion and lies.
Congratulations little baby boy,
you just kicked another person out of the pool
that was never yours to begin with.

You label him Monster
when he snaps and he growls,
but you're the ones smashing bottles in their playground,
They were here long before us
and they spilt blood for what they have,
you only shed sweat.
But, by all means, keep talking trash
until the garbage defines you.
You are what you regurgitate
and all I see spilling out
is a spout of nothing.
Is that what you dream of being?
They were here long before you knew this place existed,
So take down your obscene signs,
burn your hate-woven flags,
leave the poor ******* with something.

Would that I could show you
all the joy that has been smothered
in the black garbage bag, of your hollow heart.
Would that I could give you
a token of my true feelings,
that would hold your hungry ego over
for longer than a day.
Would that I could take from you
the sadness that sustains your anger,
and the self loathing
that your hatred gluts itself on.
Would that You could see me for who I am,
a being beyond the worst of your emotion,
who wants nothing more
than for you to wrap yourself in a love
that will not fade,
however you may try to scour it from existence,
and will someday seep into your being
like a divine poison,
and **** the lurking hatred
that dwells deep down inside you.
So that the love, that cowers behind it
may step forth into the light.

You don't get it,
pen pal nonsense and all that
is a dead end road, with fifty foot cliffs on each side.
You're on the inside, and I'm on the outside.
The grubs, and needy feelies need you.
You cannot be alone,
and I am a loner.
Is it recognition of your quality that you desire,
well, I thought I gave that.
Or, perhaps its a companion, to stay with you
through the long and lonesome nights,
a lover for your life and nothing more...
Well, it ain't me babe.
I have, do, and will love you,
but, I cannot climb the wall anymore,
I don't like what has become of the inside.
So, do the right thing.
Look around you,
pick your poison,
and drink it.
Because I nearly died climbing over that wall.
And, I will not do it again.


But, If I pass by the place, in the hollow hours,
I will whisper through the cracks,
and stick my fingers through the holes.
And, if your not busy, and your hands aren't tied,
we can hold hands at the gate.
Until the guards drive me off,
and drag you back to your cell.