We’re the rebels they call rabble
They want us all to be quiet
They bluster and they babble
Then they publicly deny it.

Representatives, an easy question:
Who do you represent, which faction?
You seem to have a lot of nerve
To insist that you protect and serve!
You want our money to campaign
Then leave us standing in the rain.
You grant yourselves a frequent raise
And pat your own backs with praise.

We could ask who you think you’ll fool
But, this is a nation of brain-dead tools.
At least half the country does not vote
Which leaves our case with a sour note.
But that leaves half who do believe!
It’s for the Constitution we grieve.
Your oath of office had you swear
To work for us, represent and care.

We’re the rebels they call rabble
They want us all to be quiet
They bluster and they babble
Then they publicly deny it.

So, it remains to us to care and feel;
To be the infamous squeaky wheel
And call to the public’s lazy attention
Crimes you commit and fail to mention.
We point it out when you lie and steal
That the promises you made aren’t real.
We remind our brothers, the working slob,
That all you do in office is keep your job.

Getting into office, your number one priority
For that you must ignore all the minorities
Only mentioning them in campaign speeches.
Then continue on being high-paid leeches.
Nobody in your party will call you out
Just collect your money from the touts
And when you retire just leave the rubble
And demand the populace call you “Honorable”.

We’re the rebels they call rabble
They want us all to be quiet
They bluster and they babble
Then they publicly deny it.

You are fighting again
And want me to come
To worship at your temple
Of the dazed and dumb
Who are led so easily
By the mention of God
And find us who question
To be diseased or odd.

Don’t sing us songs
About your holy wars.
That is really not what
Praying and progress are for.

You dress yourself in medals
And thousand dollar suits
And pretend merchants
Are not your family roots.
You think to disguise profit
As your one raison d’etre
So you speak flowery nothings
And haven’t made sense yet.

We have untold resources
To heal the lame and poor.
Endless war is not what
Praying and progress are for.

You create your holy mantras
About defense and protection
While every kind of help for us
Meets with official rejection.
You make excuses to invade
And make money out of death.
Then, make up tales of threats
Until you’re almost out of breath.

Don’t sing us songs
About your holy wars.
That is really not what
Praying and progress are for.
We have untold resources
To heal the lame and poor.
Endless war is not what
Praying and progress are for.

I want to write you a poem
That heals up your scars.
I want to send your hopes
Soaring up to the stars.
I want to clear away stones
From the path you take.
I want to be sure you never
Feel your heart ache or break.

I want to put that feeling
That you give me into a jar
So, I can feel it always
If you should travel very far.
I want to write a symphony
Of the music in your voice.
This is not loyalty or kindness.
I simply do not have a choice.

For you are what I prayed for
Before I ever knew you existed.
You are that magnetism
That I never once resisted.
You have always fit me
Like a split friendship locket.
There never was a moment
You didn’t have me in your pocket.

So, I want to do for you
What you have done for me.
I want to put a trillion stars
In your nighttime reality.
I want to let you know for sure
All that you have meant to me.
I want to share with you
Your gift of love and serenity.

It seems that just like prices
Your salary always rises
But when it comes to mine
You quickly draw the line
And tell me to do without
Then you begin to shout
That you are the party that
Always tips your hat
To the good old days
And the good old ways
How the country should run
But only you are having fun.
You and the other rich kids
Have all the toys and games
While our lives stay the same;
Underpaid and underfed
Until we are all dead
And only you remain.

That is your refrain
In the marching song you sing
And the privation you bring
With your deals and lies.
Just one of the guys.
And we are left out in the cold
Unless we happen to get bold
And call you out for villainy
For stealing every penny
And begrudging us an ounce
Of clean ***** on which to pounce
To grow a meager garden here
To feed us one more year.
But that seems against your rules.
We that are your tired mules
And can’t afford to bribe you
To do what you know you ought to.

First, let’s talk about some of the lies
Uttered by the nefarious and unwise
Of a peculiar type of mindless insanity
Created and backed by the inanity
Of the Madison Avenue careerists
And hordes of conspiracy theorists
Who have taken the issue of a ****
And buried it in misconduct and greed.

It is important not to fall for the joke
That it is quite all right to smoke
Because smoking anything you pass
A dose of something called cyanic gas
Into your lungs, and perhaps minimal,
It’s the gas they use to execute criminals.
But, other uses for this homegrown stuff
Can help people whose lives are tough.

But the whole shooting match is a dodge
Started out by rich men in their fancy lodge
Fueled by ignorance and false piety
Written into law by a strangers to sobriety
That somehow had no problem with drinking
But thought being ****** was stinking thinking.
So they created movies and legends galore.
But repression is all the lies were ever for.

(There’s an old joke about a boss’s decree
About employees drinking ***** daily.
He issued the rule on the smell-free *****
That was drunk at lunch time by his crews,
Because he didn’t want customers hazy
Thinking his employees were going crazy.
He preferred they know they were inebriated
Rather than a staff full of the grossly pixilated.)

It was that kind of thinking that created
A fervor that up until today has not abated,
That named an easily grown garden plant
Into some kind of major anti-***** rant,
While opiates are endorsed by the AMA.
And hundreds of versions are here today
To cure the same ailments as cannabis
Without the side effects that are a nemesis.

Medical science is finally ignoring
A sacred cow that needed goring;
Suggesting to the country as a whole
That this simple plant can play a role
In helping those who need relief
And are being criminalized by a belief
That, accompanied with such sadness,
Was the true definition of ****** madness.

The children are running and stumbling
A humbling experience, but deliverance
Is only gained here by running in fear
Away from those who hate and ****
And warp the will of those too young
To see people hung and murdered.

So they are herded with the living
Into an unforgiving world of pain
None should see, even less see again
But they remain in these clusters
Mustering and lining up for food
A homeless brood of adopted waifs
That should be naifs instead of this,
Nomads, glad of a blanket for bed
On the hard ground, all they found
To call home during flight, for tonight,

Not all are children, but the hurt
From blurted out hateful names
Is not the same for the young ones
Who should be having fun and not
Suffering through this hell they got
From being born in the right city
In a time of no pity and no rescue,
No kindness the world should do,
Instead they cringe from angry faces
As if they were disgraces for living.
Nothing left for giving to them.

These are orphans now, not sons
Not daughters, what was begun
Has ended for them, permanently
While nations stand by silently
Watching the perfidy and sighs,
Ignorant of their cries and destitution.
No restitution can ever come to some.
To most there is only memory of death
And running, out of breath, nowhere
Because nobody is there for them.
It is their problem.

I remember so many warm moments
Like chatting over coffee in the rain
Under an umbrella on the boulevard
It hurts to know we won’t do that again.
We will never again go to a buffet
And eat all the expensive stuff up,
Avoiding bread and pasta as filling
And then sit and drink cocoa by the cup.

I remember when we walked together
Along the shore, a perfect place to be,
The two of us sharing old-time stories
Of what had happened to you and to me.
We caught each other up on the news
Of things that each did not yet know.
Not just the tales of disgust or glory
From the old days so very long ago.

I remember how easily you laughed
At the jokes I had saved up to tell.
The sound was always a happy one
With the undertone of a tinkling bell.
And when I made up stories about
People that walked down the street
You always lightly poked my shoulder;
Chided me that I needed to be sweet.

I remember that it was good to be there,
Seeing your warm smile that truly glowed.
I remember people looking at us, grinning
At two people, happy beside the busy road.
It was that kind of scene for us, it’s true.
Two people sharing cappuccinos that day;
A memory that still resides within me.
A gift you left me before you passed away.

Wishywashington
D.C., you see, consistently.
They flip and they flop
And they never seem to stop
Unless we are talking about blacks
Then they never take anything back.
They want our wonderful free nation
To turn back into a great big plantation
Where the only people who have rights
Are the wealthiest of all of the whites.

And nobody of any other color
Could ever be called a brother
Or treated with equality
Because the word free
Doesn’t belong to you or to me.
It belongs to the richest minority
Who still believe in the divine right
And translate that into might
And are prepared to fight
To keep those down
Who ***** around
With their profits.

They just won’t have it.
There will be hell to pay
And they mean to say, every day
As long as they have anything to say
About who gets the shaft and who gets the pay.
So, don’t go getting any ideas or plans.
Everybody needs to understand
This it’s a man’s world
And it is not for girls
Or people that don’t look like us,
Or those who don’t believe like us.
So, let’s not have some big fuss.
Just do what we say
And everything will be okay.

I’m going to Republican heaven,
Going to meet Republican Jesus
After I pay off my school loans
Whenever my banker pleases
To let me out of the contract
With its usurious interest fees
And I am sure I will get there
When I am down on my knees.

I’ll have my Republican Bible
With its verses edited wisely
To exempt all the white folk
From behaving quite nicely
And making sure welfare
Is only for rich white neighbors
The rest are not allowed in
Our society except as laborers.

I am sure that Republican Jesus
Will welcome me quite warmly
For supporting the death toll
Of our Christian Soldier army.
He will be so delighted that
We vilified ungodly abortions
And how we treated those awful
Poor mothers and their orphans.

He will have to be delighted
That we held back the riches
We gained from our warfare
Ignoring our soldiers in ditches
Or maimed in those battles
We know you wanted us to wage
In the name of Republican Jesus
Out of our holy sense of rage.

Republican Jesus surely will
See how cleverly we diverted
The money to the richest people
Not the soldiers we deserted.
And, how only the people who
Did not need help financially
Got all the extra wealth we had
And we made sure of it annually.

I’m going to Republican heaven,
Going to meet Republican Jesus
And I’m sure greed and bigotry
Will just tickle him to pieces
Because it says in the Bible
The only people who will get in
Are the people that look like me
And vote for all the same men.

I’m going to Republican heaven,
Going to meet Republican Jesus
After I pay off my school loans
Whenever my banker pleases
To let me out of the contract
With its usurious interest fees
And I am sure I will get there
When I am down on my knees.

I’ll have my Republican Bible
With its verses edited wisely
To exempt all the white folk
From behaving quite nicely
And making sure welfare
Is only for rich white neighbors
The rest are not allowed in
Our society except as laborers.

I am sure that Republican Jesus
Will welcome me quite warmly
For supporting the death toll
Of our Christian Soldier army.
He will be so delighted that
We vilified ungodly abortions
And how we treated those awful
Poor mothers and their orphans.

He will have to be delighted
That we held back the riches
We gained from our warfare
Ignoring our soldiers in ditches
Or maimed in those battles
We know you wanted us to wage
In the name of Republican Jesus
Out of our holy sense of rage.

Republican Jesus surely will
See how cleverly we diverted
The money to the richest people
Not the soldiers we deserted.
And, how only the people who
Did not need help financially
Got all the extra wealth we had
And we made sure of it annually.

I’m going to Republican heaven,
Going to meet Republican Jesus
And I’m sure greed and bigotry
Will just tickle him to pieces
Because it says in the Bible
The only people who will get in
Are the people that look like me
And vote for all the same men.

We are the Republicans!
Kneel and bow!
We are superior!
All kowtow!
We deal in campaign funds
Hand and fist.
We believe in oligarchy
With a twist!

We hate democracy
We spit in our hats.
We hate all poor people
Especially Democrats.
We think equality
Is a crime.
Back to the nineteenth century
Doubletime.

There is no place here
In our fine land
Where we give the votes
To our field hands
And women who should all
Be in the kitchen
Instead of out carrying signs
And publically *******.

We are the Republicans!
Kneel and bow!
We are superior!
All kowtow!
We deal in campaign funds
Hand and fist.
We believe in oligarchy
With a twist!

We believe in the Bible which
We mostly never read.
We think all non-Christians
Should be dead.
At least they should not be
Allowed to vote.
That kind of godlessness
Gets our goat.

The only kind of righteous men
Are our own kind.
Not gays, blacks and Mexicans!
What are you, blind?
We ran the show right all along
*******!
The day the other kinds acted up
Was an evil hour.

We are the Republicans!
Kneel and bow!
We are superior!
All kowtow!
We deal in campaign funds
Hand and fist.
We believe in oligarchy
With a twist!

My ****’s all sore
From *** kicks about my lifestyle!
My neighbor’s sore
From raising a child from ****.
Meanwhile the GOP and friends
Are thumping on their Bibles
And driving our country to ruin
Each  running around wearing a cape.

I’ve got a very bad case
Of the Republican Rash
A disease that is fueled
By their greed for cash.

My bank account is ailing
By a deregulating Congress
And a Supreme Court gridlock
That is just exactly as bad.
There are crazy people there
That should be in institutions.
Things are awful ever since
We got ******* by hanging shads.

The GOP is paid Big Money
To **** on us and steal
And then tell us it is raining
And our rights aren’t really real.

My wallet has fingerprints
Of Congress all over it
Not mine so much because
It does very little good to reach.
I work three times as hard now
To make what I once did.
I’m oh so glad I never did
Decide to go and teach.

I’ve got a very bad case
Of the Republican Rash
A disease that is fueled
By their greed for cash.

I’m all confused about things
Like where is up and down
And confusing stuff like
What is wrong and right.
The GOP has spent so long now
Saying they are the good guys
And what I think of as day
Is really the middle of the night.

I’ve got a very bad case
Of the Republican Rash
A disease that is fueled
By their greed for cash.
The GOP is paid Big Money
To **** on us and steal
And then tell us it is raining
And our rights aren’t really real.

Don’t expect evil men to do good things,
They are sick and twisted and addicted
To the bastardy they do. It’s up to you.
You must block them and defrock them;
Throw them out of your political party
Give a hardy heave **, so they know,
Because any word but ‘no’ means yes,
And to them even no can mean okay
If their party pays enough money today
So they can say whatever they want
They’ll flaunt lies as the people’s choice
Unless you give voice to their crime.
They will repeat it each and every time.

Ride them out of town on a rail if need be,
Their seedy behavior will justify it.
They will deny it in face of film footage.
The usage of many lies they will coin
Showing those who are paying attention
That any mention of truth or honesty
Will get instantly reversed and wielded,
Fielded like a pop up ball, by lawyers
And spin doctors on their political team
To make it seem like the good guys
Are not as wise as the black hats
And that will be that, if you don’t stop them.

So beat them, defeat them; turn it around!
Those clowns can only lie for so long
If you don’t go along and okay their crap
Then slap them into jail when they cheat.
Knock them off their feet, depose them
Compose the right paperwork to reverse
The worse things they do and then more;
Even the score by sending them home.
Comb the laws they wrote for corruption
And the interruption of human rights.
Fight fire with fire. If they holler, you shout
And leave them out of the next round
Of sound logic because they have none.

Backstabbing, double-talking
Collection of crooks and creeps.
Oily tinhorn picks the pockets of
The common man while he sleeps.
Corkscrewing rhetoric
The worst you have ever heard
Spoken so that in the end there is
No meaning to the words.

Sidewinding viper’s nest;
No warning rattles on their tails
Criminals being paid too much
That really should be in a jail.
Four-flushing deck-stackers
Two friends and a stranger.
Dressed in thousand dollar suits
All unrecognizable danger.

Mean-spirited jerkwads
Blather daily on my teevee.
Cutpurses and footpads.
Mostly all the same to me.
Dressed up nice and talking
Smooth like a baby’s ***.
Don’t expect me to vote for you.
No thank you, I will pass.

Gutter crawling, bile spewing
Butter won’t melt in your mouth.
Carpetbagging, underhanded
Favorite sons of the Old South
And some forked tongued Yankees
Siding up with traitors and smiling.
Glad-handing, baby kissing liars
Notoriously, falsely beguiling.

In case you find me too subtle
With my message to you and your crew.
There isn’t a whole lot to recommend
Anyone with wisdom to like you.
The only positive use for you
That one can readily foresee
Is to serve as a shining example of
What a politician should never be.


Brent Kincaid
4/21/2015

It wasn’t log ago in our history
We had  Presidents we could see
And seeing them didn’t make us puke
Or think of dying from an incoming nuke.
Recently our country was a symbol
Of freedom and hope for the planet.
Now too many people hear America
And, red in the face, say “******!”

The crooks hide behind
The Capitol Hill wall.
What the people want
Is nothing to them at all.

Two, four, six, eight! Who shall we eliminate?
Those who fill their own pockets greedily;
And always kiss the *** of Big Corporate,
While they cheat and steal and lie constantly
We know how much each Congressman makes
We know it’s too much, but certainly not millions.
So come come they get so **** rich in office
And can magically turn thousands into billions?

We know something has gone badly wrong
But decade after decade we just ignore it.
The facts are out there for our scorecards
If we would only sit and simply score it.
Yes, we know they keep moving the posts
And change how we must play the game.
But if we let them cheat us and rob us
Holding a gun to our heads is almost the same.

The crooks hide behind
The Capitol Hill wall.
What the people want
Is nothing to them at all.

It seems like some think this is Old England
And we have our own impervious royalty.
Well, there is only so far this should go
And rightly call it by the name of loyalty.
After a point we are just being dunces
Who bend over and beg them to kick us again.
Anyone else who did that would anger us.
But that’s what happens when we listen to spin.

“Orange doesn’t rhyme.”
Well, that’s what we were taught.
So, what it really needs is
Some careful new thought.

So, just for a moment
Let’s get a bit strange;
Let’s take the word ‘orange’
And let us deftly rearrange.
It can become something
Like ‘no rage’ instead.
Doesn’t that fit much more
Comfortably inside the head
And inside your rhyme scheme
As you gleefully poeticize
And smoothly abandon
The conundrum of other guys?

For instance, change orange:
On gear a transmission,
In discussion, ‘go near’?
Maybe some kind of Russian?
“An gore?’, on of Vidal’s children?
Or maybe like ‘Ego ran’,
A stuck-up jogging chicken?
‘Graneo’, something to call
Mother’s mom, if you’re hip?
“Groane’, an archaic manner
To let a moan escape your lips.
‘No gare’, a French gate
Too far away to easily use.
‘Neo gar’, a species of fish
That is sometimes in the news.

That doesn’t not signal
The orange issue surrender.
It just means I am willing
To consider almost any other
Way to look at this word
Another entire way instead
For this rather comfortable color
Halfway between yellow and red.

Ronnie couldn’t talk
And be rhymless at all.
He could barely walk,
I'm pretty sure he'd fall,
Unless he was rhyming.
He said to me, “You see
The thing is with me
It all has to do with timing.

The cadence when I walk
Become words I hear,
The beat when someone talks
Makes a poem in my ear,
Then the rhyming begins
And seems to make good sense.
The words like magic appear
Poetic possibilities immense.”

All of the time I knew him
It seemed to be the truth
He rhymed almost constantly
From his very verbal youth.
He was like a Hallmark card
Sometimes saying pithy things
That fit the moment exactly
And had that ***** ring.

But other times his utterances
Were acerbic and very witty.
When it came to sarcastic tilt
He was the Mayor of Snark City.
Or he could rhyme endearingly
And paint pictures with his words
Saying some of the nicest things
That were ever put into words.

Yes, he was Rhyming Ronnie,
A poem for any current thought.
You couldn’t stump him even once.
At least not that I ever caught.
Ryan was amazing for sure
And some found it rather vexing.
But oh boy in the internet age
It came in handy when texting!

How can you ask me to keep my cool?
I suppose it’s easy to say.
But when the talking is through, you and my lover
Will get up and walk happily away.

I know you’ll understand my lack of humor;
I didn’t come to bring you valentines.
Once I had a heart and it was broken.
I’m not in the mood to be kind.

So, I guess it’s time now for us to part.
I guess there isn’t much left to say.
This isn’t they we had things planned.
I wish it had turned out another way.

I fully can admit to being selfish.
This is not an easy scene to play.
Did you really think it would be pleasant?
Just another hyper-normal day?

How can you ask me to keep my cool?
I suppose it’s easy to say.
But when the talking is through, you and my lover
Will get up and walk happily away.

Brent Kincaid
4/22/2015

How can you feel holy
By enjoying the pain of others?
Where is your righteousness
When you deny starving mothers
And brothers and fathers
And sisters and all others
Who need your help the most?
Does it add fat to your roast?
Is compassion some kind of crime?
Does it rob you of a dime
When you have so many millions
And not enough time to spend them?

Your logic is totally illogical!
It’s just short of scatological,
And adds up to the villainy
Of a well-armed sworn enemy.
This abhorrence of equality
Is your standard normality.
It often seems that being smug
Works on you like a kind of drug
That makes you see your neighbor
As nothing more than slave labor.
You who won’t throw dogs a bone
Did you get where you are alone?

How can you feel holy
By enjoying the pain of others?
Where is your righteousness
When you deny starving mothers
And brothers and fathers
And sisters and all others
Who need your help the most?
Does it add fat to your roast?
Is compassion some kind of crime?
Does it rob you of a dime
When you have so many millions
And not enough time to spend them?

You are taking a word such as liberal
And making a synonym for criminal.
You seem to want freedom to choose
As opportunity for religious abuse.
How are these oppressions you do
Good for anyone, not even for you?
For sure it might gain you some gold
That won’t love you when you grow old.
Unless you intend on buying affection
You won’t get much from an election.
The people who will applaud are shallow
If they let the world’s fields lie fallow.

Not a lot has changed inside
From who I used to be.
I’ve gained wrinkles and gray hair
But that’s just humanity.
It doesn’t change the facts at all;
I am still who I always was.
It’s the packaging that changes
And that has a reasonable cause.

When I forget something
Folks call me old and senile
But, the fact is that I have
Been doing that for quite a while.
Ever since I was a kid
As a matter of pure fact.
So, don’t mislabel something
That is not an aging fact.

And when I groan a bit
When rising from my chair
It’s a bad habit I learned
Long ago, some bad where.
It is laziness and whining
And that’s the pure truth.
It has nothing to do with
My distance from youth.

When my eyes get misty
At something I may see
It’s not that old age has
Has totally overtaken me.
It’s because I’ve been around
For enough of these years
To recognize the feelings
That go on behind tears.

So tip your hat to me, my friends
And you surely won’t go wrong.
There is a bit of credit due
For sticking around this long.
It has given me some vision
Due to plenty of hindsight,
To make better decisions now
And to make most of them right.

When I was a youngster
It was too easy to trust
Older now, I’m choosy
And I feel I must
Pay attention to what
Folks say and what they do
Those who would abuse me
Must prove themselves true.

As I grew I noticed
How much was said was false.
I started then to learn
I had to learn the calls
Of those who were being
Just socially polite
And those who were cheaters
I saw that was not right.

But even the most polite
Of carefully chosen untruth
Seemed a bit off kilter
To the a questioning youth.
I learned I should never
Admit a dress made girls fat.
And I learned one could not
Call someone’s kid a brat.

But I never have gotten over
The strong public insistence
That I ignore their crimes.
To that I still feel resistance.
So, I can’t agree with anyone
When voted into public office.
I find myself being very hard
When so many of them are pompous.

I know I will never agree
To hate people who are different.
I guess the day I was born
I didn’t come with that equipment,
And even though friends
And family sought to teach me
How to be a bigoted ****,
The lessons didn’t reach me.

Freddie was a satyr
And I wanted to worship
And serve him naked
Then serve my internship
For the rest of my life
Hopelessly dedicated
To be like Ulysses' wife;
Enraptured, captured, mated.
That’s how highly he rated.

I know out of the lights
He spent nights between
Debauchery and hell
But few seemed to tell.
They just came and screamed
Blind to what seemed to be
Too much perfectionality
In his personality to be reality.

Like so many I knew then
He was above other men, a god
And fascinated with his codpiece,
We salaamed, and slammed down
Big bucks for tickets to go see
Life much bigger than me, and squee
And clap and whistle, this missile
From the gods to gays and straights
Who could see and her he was great
And we were all there, grateful.

It was painful when he left, even though
We knew why and we still know, yet
He was too wonderful to forget
And shirk and scorn because he was born
To be a ****** miracle and musical gift
That time and death could not lift
Out of the pantheon of stage kings
And queens, if that is not too mean.
But how could it be, they were Queen
And they changed the scene.

The hippie days were rather hard
For a young guy just starting out.
Off- brand jeans and crew-cut hair
Didn’t carry all that much clout.
I was into show tunes and Elvis,
The Beatles were great and new.
I lucked right into the Troubadour
And fell in love with Elton too.

One of my ladies loved Airplane
The other loved the Monkees
The problem was that only one
Was ever approved by junkies.
But I was so squeaky clean
That I was only into cheap coffee.
I swear I could get high as a kite
On Russel Stover’s fine toffee.

But something changed for me
The day I first heard David Bowie.
It sounds kind of childish now
But he was special and so glowy.
He pointed out some dichotomies
Between what was said and done.
At that time we needed something
And Bowie was obviously the one.

I didn’t stick there with his genie
But his genius opened some doors
And affected my art and my poetry
Way back then and forever more.
So then it was Prince, The Doobies,
Aretha Franklin and Annie DiFranco.
And, of course, the one-hit wonders
About eighteen hundred or so.

It wasn’t always about music
This social code of mine.
But music underscored it all
Made even politics toe the line.
We made changes in civil rights
And even affected an evil war.
There is no reason to doubt it.
Music will continue to change more.

I’m gliding, not fighting
As I enter later years.
I’m skating, not debating
As I face my aging fears.
I see what I was afraid of
Were just phantasms only.
They leave too many scared
With talk of being lonely.

Go away with bearboo talk.
Nobody is frighted here.
It’s just another day for me
It’s nothing but another year!
Age is not the bogeyman
It comes along with the ride.
It’s part of what made my life
It’s proof that I have tried.

**** and chest swapped places
My hair is wandering south.
All that goes very swiftly
Is my energy and my mouth.
Everything is changing now
I am not a kid any more.
I spend time in pharmacy aisles
More than the rest of the store.

But none of this unexpected.
I watched others go through it.
It’s not like it was ever a secret.
No mystery. I totally knew it.
So I plan to celebrate this stage
Which means I must slow down
And take things as they come
No reason to whine, cry or frown.

Nobody should believe you
You’re a world class liar.
You’re going to burn your ****
‘Cause your pants are on fire!
You’ve always been a liar
Even back in your youth.
The only thing you fear is
Having to tell the truth.

If you shake hands with him
Count your fingers right quick
Be sure you still have them all.
Never trust his sneaky tricks.
He can stand right in front of you
And baldfacedly he can lie
While smiling like and angel
And looking you in the eye.

Olly, olly, oxen hook
This guy is a nasty crook.
Keep track of all he took
Then sentence him, by the book.
Heckley, Jekylly, criminal
He prefers to be subliminal.
But mostly he’s a bad motor scooter
A cutpurse and a poorhouse looter.

He would rob widows and orphans
And claim he was aiding charity
As if he is the only person who
Sees the world with clarity.
He calls it redistribution work
Of the world’s hard-earned wealth.
But he is fooling nobody, really,
Or he wouldn’t need to use stealth.

And when he runs for office, he
Can refine his art of playing *****
By hiding behind closed doors
And stealing from us covertly.
He will join the political machine
That is already firmly in place
And work in his mirror every day
To hone that public smiling face.

Olly, olly, oxen hook
This guy is a nasty crook.
Keep track of all he took
Then sentence him, by the book.
Heckley, Jekylly, criminal
He prefers to be subliminal.
But mostly he’s a bad motor scooter
A cutpurse and a poorhouse looter.

I will trust you.
I will believe in you
That you have my heart
And my best interests
Firmly in mind
That you will look out
For me and defend me
And will not be tempted
By the many distractions
That life can offer.
That you will not succumb
To the call of power
That my trust gives
And you will not mislead
Or lie, or betray me
Instead will work with me
To improve what we have
And work toward the future
Without measure or deceit
With complete integrity.
That you won’t mess with me
And tell me one thing
Then do a complete other.
That our relationship together
Will be as valuable to you
As it is to me, today
And everyday.
I don’t want to have to
Ask you for all of this.
It’s like a loving kiss.
It doesn’t work if
I have to ask for it.
But it hurts if you ignore it.

And in this way, love
Is so very much like
How we see the people
We elect to serve us.
If we are this blind
They deserve us.
And we deserve them
If we elect them
On some romantic whim
That everything will be
Just fine if it is a mystery.

Falling for hyper-fit gym rats.
Salivating over straight guys
Dating guys who never once
Looked me right in the eyes.
Much too easy to be picked up,
It’s almost like they know I am
The perfect dupe for one-night stands;
The sucker for the guys that scam.

I’ve had my wallet lifted once
My car stolen one time, too.
I have lots of phone numbers
Nobody is connected to.
I laughed at all their jokes and
I bought all of the drinks,
And never once did he seem
To want to know what I think.

It was all so very mellow, then.
I told him my name when we met.
But within a half hour after that
He forgot it, I would place a bet.
He never introduced me to
Any of the guys who said hi.
There might be other reasons
But I think he forgot is why.

Once I thought my problem was
That I was being much so easy.
That good guys weren’t attracted
To someone that was too ******.
But age and wisdom taught me
Being needy is dating poison.
So, I’m slowly but surely learning
An extremely humiliating lesson.

If you asked if I would skinny dip
You would have hit it on the nose.
But that was back when I was still
Rather attractive without clothes.
Now I don’t go around naked
As long as it is in my power.
I’ve gotten so fat and wrinkly
I wear ****** even in the shower.

I’m not kidding around a bit
When I talk about this aging stuff.
I not only don’t look so ****
When I walk around in the buff,
There are certain types of clothes
I do much better to avoid wearing;
Me in sweat pants or leggings
Is not a sight I enjoy sharing.

I’ve begun to look a bit like
Laundry that is not quite dry.
I’m not much surprised by this
Because I understand why.
I have been around a long time
And have enjoyed my ice cream
But it makes one into a pudding
And makes other people scream.

It’s just not a good idea these days
To show of what time has done.
There are such things as hotties
But I know for sure I am not one.
You know those Botox babies
You see on the Hallmark Channel?
Notice how they don’t look like
Their faces are made of flannel?

Well, I’m not into all that stuff,
That reconstructive surgery.
I don’t expect to look today
Like an escapee from a nursery.
I just make wardrobe choices well
Bearing my current self in mind.
I look upon some of it as wise
And some of it as me being kind.

No matter just how many times I told her
She couldn’t seem to keep it in her head;
While everyone enjoys the circus,
I do not enjoy it in my bed.

I made it clear at the beginning
That I was a quiet kind of guy
Still she insisted on the drama
And I never found out why.

Roxie Moxie, Queen of my heart,
When did all this energy start?
Were you born in a hurricane
Never slowed down again?
You’re taking my Richter scale
Off of the charts.

Was she raised in a hippie commune or
Maybe some kind of traveling show?
Though I asked her many times
I will probably never know.

There had to be drinks and some food
By the bedside when we retired.
Though I begged not to drink coffee
It seemed she was always wired.

Roxie Moxie, Queen of my heart,
When did all this energy start?
Were you born in a hurricane
Never slowed down again?
You’re taking my Richter scale
Off of the charts.

She wanted to stay up late each evening
And then she’d sleep in way past noon.
Of course I was gone to work by then
So, we’d meet at the rise of the moon.

At first it was very exciting for me
To have this rigorous loving game.
So, I guess I brought it on myself
And I am the only one to blame.

Roxie Moxie, Queen of my heart,
When did all this energy start?
Were you born in a hurricane
Never slowed down again?
You’re taking my Richter scale
Off of the charts.

Rooster has to crow in the morning
Cat has to prowl around at night.
I see a petty dictator ruining lives
I grab my pencil ready to fight.
We’re not in the dark ages anymore.
Nor are we still in the Old West.
We don’t slap on a pistol and go out
And put a bunch of lead into the pest.

So, I write down the words that I feel.
I call a snake-oil salesman what he is.
I carefully explain what a crook looks like
And show off the difference from a Wiz.
They may claim they’re an eagle today
If that is the delusion they are in.
But I will be quick to dispel such a lie
By pointing out the wattles on their chin.

Pigeons spread their droppings all over.
Dog likes to dig around in the dirt.
I have to point out the creeps in the world
Then take appropriate joy when they’re hurt.
My hope is the people that are fooled will see
They don’t have to sit and eat the lies.
They can stand up and ***** in the face
Of those who are criminals in disguise.

Tell any scoundrels exactly what they are
And let them know you are not fooled.
Don’t let them walk away feeling proud.
Make sure they’re appropriately schooled.
Knock any martinet off their pedestal.
Tell them you think they are a clown.
Don’t leave their ego in undented shape.
Then go on and kick them when they’re down.

Somebody went and dropped a house on us
Put fools into office to make us cuss.
Made all the rest of us feel hit by a bus.
Oh, no, we’re going to cry.

Some lazy people didn’t try to help,
Millions of us not quite as smart as kelp!
Now it is done, they don't hear us yelp.
Oh, no, we just might die.

Rumble, boogie
Boogie woogie oogie

People are running things that cannot read
Don’t have the background or wit they need
Letting our national resources go to seed
A scary bunch of good-for-nothings high on greed.
Oh, yes, we’re all a mess.

Cancelling the programs that helped the sick
******* public money like a ****** tick.
Hiring ****** lawyers for their ***** tricks.
Oh, no, it just began.

Rumble, boogie
They gave us a noogie.

Playing ugly war games on friend and foe
Not a single clue about where this may go.
Robbing Social Security as if we’d never know.
Oh, yes, they are the worst.

Trying to change the laws so we all fail
If we protest they want us all in jail.
Keep us so broke we can’t make the bail,
Unless we rise and stop them first.

Rumble, boogie
They gave us a noogie.

We could have voted last year to stop this crap
Now, good or bad we’ve fallen in their a trap.
Meanwhile the fat cats keep ****** in their lap.
We need to jail them for a very long nap.

Rumble, boogie
Boogie woogie oogie

He was just fourteen
When he ran away
He couldn’t take it
For even one more day.
His mom just ignored him
Dad watched football games.
They talked behind his back
About who they should blame.

You gotta be the way
We think you should be.
Never be like you
Always be like me.
Butch it up in public
Change the way you walk.
If you can’t do that
Just shut up, don’t talk.

He was teased about his name
And teased about his size.
He had a kind of stutter.
They didn’t think him wise.
He was kind and polite and
Had a soft pleasant voice
So, the jerks in the crowd said
He was one of the gay boys.

The problem was he wasn’t
What any of them thought.
He was straight and he was shy
But what his manner brought
Was constant stereotyping
Based on bad parenting
Both at home and at school
Never quite relenting.

You gotta be the way
We think you should be.
Never be like you
Always be like me.
Butch it up in public
Change the way you walk.
If you can’t do that
Just shut up, don’t talk.

So Rodney ran away
And lived out on the street
Taking charity from those
Runaways always meet.
Now Rodney’s in jail
In the hospital ward.
His leap for freedom
Had some bad rewards.

You gotta be the way
We think you should be.
Never be like you
Always be like me.
Butch it up in public
Change the way you walk.
If you can’t do that
Just shut up, don’t talk.

Cars so close together
You can count their middle fingers,
Horns honking everywhere
Traffic is like an urban bomb scare.
People just don't know how to drive.
It's a wonder how they can survive.  

Tooting and beeping,
The human brain is sleeping,
It looks like, by and large
Lizard brains are in charge.
There are no cops around;
They’re in another part of town
Policing those who feel they need
To smoke that evil devil ****.

Meanwhile traffic does it's thing,
Increasing daily suffering.
It's part of what it means to be
Alive in today's society,
Driving hell bent like it matters
Leaving peace of mind in tatters.
Rush hour traffic is what is wrought
Like a bad cold the earth has caught.

You can’t avoid it altogether.
It’s like Twain said of weather.
You can talk about it every day
And do nothing about it either way.
So maybe not have everyone at once
Hitting the road like a silly dunce.
Couldn’t the employers take a clue;
Change their schedule an hour or two?

Maybe some would think it great
To start their journey hours late?
Some could go now and some then
And wait hours, then begin again,
The next batch could be on their way
And start out having a good mood day.
Or maybe we could all stay home
And leave the rest of the world alone

Do you remember
Waiting by the door
For me to come home
Just a little after four?
Do you remember
Wondering if I were hurt
Lying by a road somewhere
Injured in the dirt?

How many times did I
Disappoint you with lies?
How many times did you
Assume I was too unwise
In my chose of friends
Who drank and smoked
Engaging in philandering
Just like old ***** jokes?

Did you catch me out
With strangers on the make?
Did you ask yourself
“Just how much can I take?”
Did you rage and howl
And call yourself a fool
Who seems to have learned little
All those years in school?

Did some friends tell you
You needed to confront
And tell me what a rat I was
To leave you here in want.
Did you lie and defend me
And keep our secrets well hid?
Did you worry we were through?
You say you didn’t do all that?
Well, the truth of it is, I did.

I’m a just right, out of sight, lily-white,
Never coy, ball of joy, good old boy,
So great it keeps me up at night,
Clever son of all the tricks I employ.
A world-beating, caucus leading,
Really big deal, big wheel big shot,
Clean outside, mean on the inside
Super savvy, super cool, super hot.

I’m the guy you want to toast
I’m the tops, I’m where it’s at
Some are good, but I’m the most.
I’m a sainted southern aristocrat.
It’s not good to get on my bad side.
I’m a fearless, remorseless go-getter.
I’m right, you’re wrong, if there’s a fight,
Yeah, you may be good, but I’m better.

I’m a cut above, you’ve just got to love
A gift from God sent from high above.
A card-carrying good guy to the letter,
A credit to my entire race, nobody better.
Whether in the news or word of mouth,
A quality beacon of the Sainted South.

I’m the guy you want to toast
I’m the tops, I’m where it’s at
Some are good, but I’m the most.
I’m a sainted southern aristocrat.
It’s not good to get on my bad side.
I’m a fearless, remorseless go-getter.
I’m right, you’re wrong, if there’s a fight,
Yeah, you may be good, but I’m better.

So, go away with your stupid picketing;
We knew how to run things way back when
We have God on our side, so just back off.
Old ways are the best way, again and again.
Your talk about equality and nigras rights
May sound good, but it’s all just libel.
We are the chosen children of our God
And you can find that in The Holy Bible.

I’m a cut above, you’ve just got to love
A gift from God sent from high above.
A card-carrying good guy to the letter,
A credit to my entire race, nobody better.
Whether in the papers or word of mouth,
I’m a quality representative of The South.

(Nasally)
Ya say ya wanna look good?
Ya say ya wanna look young?
Ya say ya wanna take on the world again?
(clap)
Tell ya what I’m gonna do!
The secret is not in any little bottle.
No sir! Not a bit of it!
Step right over, friend.
I’m gonna tell ya the secret that works!
The Golden Key. The Fountain of Truth.
Yessiree bob! The Blessed Path. The open door!

Are you sick and tired of being sick and tired?
Do you pop out at parties?
Are you unpoopular?
(clap)
Do people turn off lights and hide when you come by?
Do some people refuse to return your calls?
Do you find yourself alone most of the time?
Are you under threat of being fired?
Are you sick of forgetting where you parked?
Do you wake up in the morning or come to?
Tell ya what I’m gonna do.
Step over here, friend.
I’ll give you the secret.
(There ya go, and when you get there, there ya are!)

Part of the problem is the solution.
You are drinking a solution that lies.
It says everything will be okay, if you drink.
Drink more. Yessirreebob! Recognize it?
(clap)
You take a drink or two after work and then…
It’s morning, you remember nothing, then
The whole shebang starts all over again.
You started out inviting people over
But, they used up your ***** and dope.
And there you were staggering
Down to the store to buy more
Struggling to write your name on the check.
But, what the heck. You were popular
But no more. All that is left is the store.

So, ya say ya wanna get better, fast?
Don’t put the cork in the bottle.
Throw the bottle away. Don’t buy more.
That’s the real score, the secret.
(clap)
You can’t have it both ways.
Either you wanna get better and live
Or you will keep on trying to give up
Without surrendering. It’s amazing.
You’ll feel like crap for a while
But you do now, and never smile.
(clap)
So, that’s the way it gets done.
It happens to everyone who wants
To get off the merry-go-round
And settle down to living, and smiling.
After you quit the daily drinking bit.

I recorded this years ago, but it's still funny today.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UMpjsFkALLM

I got up late and left the house at eight.
To some that might be early but it’s not.
The cloudless day surely would be great
I wanted to see a friend who I found hot.
Right before the bus stop I heard someone
Calling out my name, a voice I knew.
Asking if I wanted to have some great fun;
He could be counted on to follow through.

We went around the corner to a buddy
One I was sure I had never met before.
His front yard was wet and very muddy
With marijuana plants there by the score.
We went inside and after a few doobies
I asked him if the cops left him alone;
After all those plants are not jujubies.
He didn’t answer me, but dialed the phone.

A little while later I heard someone knocking
Our host went over, let the new guest in.
I guess my face betrayed something shocking,
Because I heard the laughter of my friends.
Standing in the door was a policeman
Full regalia, face as stern as a warrior.
I got up, almost straight enough to stand
When our host said don’t call your lawyer.

Relax, he said, the cop is my kid brother
And he does not believe in this law;
He thinks the rules against *** and hemp
Are dumber than a script from Hee Haw.
We sat there with him and passed the joint.
He told us not to worry about his sergeant.
He smokes too, so that’s a good point.
*** heads with a policeman friend is pleasant.

I never made it over to my friend’s place,
The one I started out today to see.
He didn’t expect me, so it is no disgrace.
How the day turned out was okay with me.
One of the nice things about cannabis use
Is the happy acceptance of one’s fate.
Not caring where you’re going is a good excuse
To stay longer and not care if you are late.

You, yew and ewe.
New, knew and gnu.
Two, too and to.
Do, dew and doo.
Your, you’re, ewer and yore.
Sower, sewer and even sore.

Pin, pen
Win, wen.
Tin, ten.
Bin, been.

For, four, and fore.
Poor, pour and pore.
Bear, bare and bayer.
There, their and they’re.
Sure, sewer, shore and shower.
Censor, censure, sensor, censer.

Din, den.
Kin, ken.
Win, wen.
Yin, yen.

Shoulda, coulda and woulda,
Wanna, hafta and hadda.
Pitchers painted of pitchers
Ree-lutters instead of realtors.
Pertecting you with protection.
Prescribing you a perscription.
A different kind of differnse,
For instance, gimme a frinstance.

Pin, pen
Win, wen.
Tin, ten.
Bin, been.
Din, den.
Kin, ken.
Win, wen.
Yin, yen.

They’s times when I
Jess cain’t say it good
And times when I am
Jess plain amazing;
Then teachers and snobs
Seem to all agree and
Subject whut I say to
Harsh degrees of hazing.

It seems like they ain’t never
Said the wrong word before
Whatever, they jess don’t
Seem to put me on ignore
And move to importanter things
Than grammarical stuff;
As fer me, I’m jess turnin’ them off
‘Cause I have had me enough.

I only had me an education
Up to the eleventh grade or so
A whole buncht of that silly stuff
I got told  but I still don’t know.
My dad and my mom too
They got taught just like me.
And I talk good enough for them.
Change my perfectly acceptable talk?
Really now, the chances are slim.

We say ain’t and cain’t and acrost
And other such acceptable words.
And some of the more ‘proper’ things
Ain’t nothin’ but jess plain absurd.
Like widdershins and tatterdemalion,
Sequipedalian, octogenarian as well.
If I’m expected to talk like that
Y’all can just go straight to hell.

You promised us you’d make the country great again
And that you would build a Mexican wall.
You said you’d make America bigly wonderful
And that you were the smartest of them all.
You said you’d keep the immigrants from coming
To take away our jobs and ruin our land.
You finally came around to getting rid of gays
Now that they are getting out of hand.

Scamboozled, that’s what we got.
We’re hoodwinked. By all the things you’re not.
Plum snookered by all your fancy words.
We’re still waiting for what we heard.

You said you’d fix the country with your knowledge
Of how business should be conducted.
So how come we are starting to feel
Like Russians came here and we’ve been abducted?
You promised you’d put the best minds to work
But you hired a bunch of babbling stupid clowns.
Watching your soap opera presidency
Has really begun to get a lot of us down.

Scamboozled, that’s what we got.
We’re hoodwinked. By all the things you’re not.
Plum snookered by all your fancy words.
We’re still waiting for what we heard.

You said you’d never take any vacations yourself
And be like that black guy you hate
But you have taken forty seven golfing weekends
And plan a two week vacation to date.
When you first got your self elected to the job
It looked like a new era was in reach.
Now I think I’ll join with the majority
And see if we can’t all get you impeached.

Scamboozled, that’s what we got.
We’re hoodwinked. By all the things you’re not.
Plum snookered by all your fancy words.
We’re still waiting for what we heard.

I was a boy of dreams and songs
And hopes of fine tomorrows
Before someone robbed my joys
And left me all this sorrow.
I believed in people and trust
And had it all taken away from me
And it was all done with lies
That spoke to me so lovingly.

The boy turned into a man
In just that one sad evening
When expectations became
The frost of no longer believing.
There were words and scowling
But mostly on my own part
Because it was obvious then
There was no love in your heart.

How could I know back then
That such people existed?
I would have had a day of fun
And everything else resisted.
I would have looked at you
As a face on a passing train
And never cared if either of us
Ever saw each other again.

But you came to me with words
All polished as smooth as stone
And convinced me, in my youth,
That they were for me alone.
I don’t pretend to understand
How people can be so cruel.
I just see now how my innocence
Was the perfect kind of fuel.

The flame that I felt burning
Was some kind of fantasy
That you wove just for fun
With no relation to reality.
But such is life, I move on
And learn to take my time
To see who is a criminal
And whose care is genuine.

Will we end up where we have been
Will anything important have changed
If we were to start all over again?
Or will we end as lovers estranged?
Or will we do it different this time
And make some better choices.
Maybe better words can come
From formerly unsuccessful voices.

After all, we are no longer who
We were before we became
The who we have become now.
We are definitely not the same.
We didn't know then the things
We take for granted today.
We no longer look at our lives
In anything like the same way.

But still we let our feelings
Get away from us so badly
That we began to look at ourselves
And regard each other sadly.
It's like we were someone else
Two different people for sure
Suffering from a kind of illness
For which love had no cure.

After all, we are no longer who
We were before we became
The who we have become now.
We are definitely not the same.
We didn't know then the things
We take for granted today.
We no longer look at our lives
In anything like the same way.

Things were said that seem unreal
When we look back on them now.
We have turned into strangers
But it's like we don't know how.
How did we perform this trick
This sleight of hand without magic?
Why did it take so long to fear
That this would be so tragic?

I dated a girl, a pretty gal
I dated her and her pooch pal
You had to like her dog Pogo
You had to, or it was a no go.
She took the thing everywhere
And never in a pet carrier.
It was sort of a turnoff to me;
A kind of no-intrusion barrier.

Scoochie up to poochie
Or you I wouldn’t  get no *******.
Otherwise I was a pimple.
It was really just that simple.

She had the ugliest mutt
That I ever saw before
Like a brown **** rug
That was left outdoors.
It snuffled through teeth
That were hideously parted.
I thought it was stuffed
Until the creature farted.

Scoochie up to poochie
Or you I wouldn’t get no *******.
Otherwise I was a pimple.
It was really just that simple.

I got nothing against animals
And I really do like dogs
But they should look like pups
Not chimera or warthogs.
I’d overcome the boundaries
Whenever I got the chance
But that ugly canine lump of fur
Put the kibosh on romance.

Scoochie up to poochie
Or you I wouldn’t get no *******.
Otherwise I was a pimple.
It was really just that simple.

There will be someone there
Down that long lonely road
Maybe someone who will
Help you carry the load.
Maybe nothing more than
Someone who cares
To listen to you speak
And walk with you somewhere.

It all will depend on you
Whether you are seeing
And whether you can hear
A loving caring being.
Or whether you are hearing
That chanting in your mind
That you have trained yourself
To treat yourself unkind.

It will matter heavily
If you prefer to count weeds
Rather than smell flowers
Because that’s what it needs
If you want to change directions
And take a different route.
Want to ***** and grumble?
You have to cut it out!

Look for the beautiful
The kindness in your life.
Avoid the painful focus
On resentment and strife.
There will be someone there
Down that long lonely road
Maybe someone who will
Help you carry the load.

What does Santa have to do with Jesus
Or an egg-laying rabbit for that matter.
People who think this crap up must be
As mad as Lewis Caroll’s Mad Hatter.
I mean, these same store owners
Got those stories from somewhere.
Then put them out generously for
Gullible parents so freely to share
With kids grown greedy by the lack
Of parental care and nurturing
Not to mention pablum, for real
As the family thing was rupturing.

Where did that rabbit come from?
It never made sense at all to me.
How did those ******* up genetics
Get dragged into the nursery?
It defies belief that anyone over eight
Ever bought in to the silly tale.
It was always so obvious to me
That it was all to make a sale.
So, first there was fat man and sleigh
Flying at blinding electronic speed.
With ungainly flying reindeer as
What passes for valiant steeds.

Next we have a bunny who hides
Millions of gaudy hard boiled eggs
Then apparently hops right off
On some very confused short legs.
Did I leave out the Tooth Fairy?
Now, that is a real piece of work.
I really believed that pillow thing.
My god was I ever a young ****!
There might be someone else besides
Fecund rabbit, fat men and a fairy.
If they hadn’t brainwashed us so early
This whole mishagas would be scary.

The time has come
As it does every year
To contact all your friends
And send them some cheer;
To bundle up some wishes
And presents if you can
And hope they achieve
All their wonderful plans.

Some say Merry Christmas,
Others say Season’s greetings
But they all share the spirits
Of love and good wishes meaning.
They all have the meals that are
The ones they always have made.
They sing the appropriate songs

Many have bought or they made
Presents that will make it clear
That the people they give them to
Are the ones they hold most dear.
Even for those people too poor or
Or far away for gifts to be sent
Make sure the people they love
Know what their love has meant.

So, this is the time for me to say
Those things I so love to hear
That I am always thinking of you
And you are who I hold dear.
I hope you have all the joy
And best wishes from every one
That you think about every day
And a season full of holiday fun.

He lives in fear
Some will discover
He lives in disguise
Like a spy undercover.
He lives in suspense,
Did he let something slip.
He lives in madness
Like a bad acid trip.

It’s a topsy-turvy world
Where lying is the stock-in-trade.
False approval from peers
Is the payment for deals he made.
The pats on his back
Are what he does the whole thing for.
The social approval gives
Gifts to him too grand to ignore.

He lives in fear
Some will discover
He lives in disguise
Like a spy undercover.

Pride in who he is
A distant world he cannot see.
An Everest to climb
That threatens his mortality.
He has to lie constantly
Or forget himself accidentally.
Telling the truth will
Remove his sense of morality.

He lives in suspense,
Did he let something slip.
He lives in madness
Like a bad acid trip.

He doesn’t trust feelings
They make of him a criminal.
His relationship with pride
And self-esteem is minimal.
That others can be free
Can never apply to someone like him.
He hears there is liberation
But his own chances are very slim.

He lives in fear
Some will discover
He lives in disguise
Like a spy undercover.
He lives in suspense,
Did he let something slip.
He lives in madness
Like a bad acid trip.

Let the poor youth fight and die.
Not my children, don’t even try.
You won’t subject them to ill health
Not as long as I’ve got my wealth.
Let the children of poverty bleed
We rich have the gold we need.
We were the guilty, and all that meant,
WE label poor children as “not innocent”.

Why not cheat and **** the weak and poor?
Isn’t that what the caste system is for?
We are the strong and the righteous ones.
Besides, ripping off people is so much fun.
We get to buy fancy suits and sleek cars.
If these are not meant for us, then what are?
We’re the ones smart enough to write
Sneakily worded laws that favor the right.

And we are bright enough to see right quick
The most of the populace is politically sick.
They vote for whomever we tell them to.
We just label the opposition commies or Jews.
We have convinced them all that we are real
And the liberals? Well, let them squeal.
We just take every thing they say about us
And say it was their doing, and let them cuss.

Half of the country was so incredibly ignorant
They had no idea what our promises meant.
So they let us put into place a crazy faker
Who put wealth in the hands of the takers.
He and his party was sure they could do it;
That the lazy populace would fail to pursue it.
So end the end, they could just stay as dumb
In the ensuing holocaust that was to come.

A roster of rotten rogues and rascals
Rapscallions and self-righteous racketeers.
Wrapped themselves in the American Flag,
Like Wicked Witches of the West in drag.
Not a whit of statesmanship in the bunch.
Hearts as black as coal, I have a hunch.
If we go by behavior, the devil is alive;
Queen bees who hate the workers in the hive.


They started with genocide of all those here,
Native Americans before the whites drew near.
They kept it up by importing a million black folks
They owned and ***** and made up ugly jokes.
In time they treated Irish and Italians the same.
Let them come here and then played a sick game.
Promises to those, the non-Europeans, were not kept.
They heaped them with bias while good Christians slept.

It has been going on forever since antiquity.
They make our fine country a den of iniquity;
When not operating from a sense of disdain
They run their show on hatred, death and pain.
They claim they work for the people, but
Most of the people can tell what is really what.
Distressingly disgusting, diabolically divisive
They do their best when citizens are permissive.

In time they decided monopolies were great.
They let those with money put up the gates
And charge those with little to pass through
To get food, water, places to live. Not new.
Old country villainy was given a new face
And soon only a few creeps owned the place.
They cheated and swindled and laughed at those
Who starved, rebelled and fought and died.
Rich children splurged on geegaws far and wide.

Soon the list of enemies grew in the mansions,
They included over half of regular American citizens:
Blacks women and poor people were told shut up.
There was not enough nectar to put into their cups.
Gays, agnostics and atheists were treated as if
They were the living minions of the Christian devil
Liberals and objections to conservatives called evil.
Anyone who had issues to the gathering of massive wealth
Was treated as a criminal who wanted to steal their wealth.

The self-righteous racketeers bought newspapers and lies
All created to be swallowed whole by the lazy and unwise
Who could not see that they bought and sold more crooks
That got into office and wrote evil laws into the books.
This is not a new game, in this computerized info age.
This is an ancient costume covering up the old outrage.
It only takes for most of us to stand by and not protest
When leaders lie, and cheat and steal and call it a jest.