Three thousand children
That have no home.
Three thousand children
Are suffering alone.
Three thousand children
Whose parents suffer
Three thousand children
Missing their mothers.

How many children
Do we now have to feed
When the president said
They’re all bad seeds?
How did these babies
And these adolescent kids
Get accused of what they
Nor their parents ever did?

How can a country that
Brags it’s the land of the free
Perpetuate such a craven
Too ****-like villainy?
It squanders public funds
On bogus personal causes
Then hides it's thievery
Inside twisted legal clauses.

Three thousand babies
Locked up like animals
Inside pens like Dobermans;
And they are the criminals?
Their parents broke laws
That are just misdemeanors
So, they are beaten and then
They’re taken to the cleaners?

Meanwhile their children
Are kidnapped and hidden
By a Justice department that
Does the evil they are bidden.
That this kind of sick behavior
Exists in our country’s name
Is more than just our personal,
It’s also our national shame.

She was stark naked
I could see her ****
And her boyfriend had
Quite the **** on him.
His meat should have
Made him quite proud
And the lady’s ****
For crying out loud
Were perky and prominent
And quite nice to see.
Both of them seemed
To be pointing at me.

And I seemed to be
Eagerly pointing back.
They both very obviously
Aware of that one fact.
She smiled openly
And the guy broadly winked.
I started asking myself
“Do you think? He did wink!”
So, I winked and smiled
And let them see my bone
And hoped this meant I
Would not be alone.

I hoped they’d invite me
To sit on their beach towel
To slather sunscreen on them
Like a human mortar trowel.
There are not many things
There are few better for me
Than hot mixed couples
Into some fun bisexuality.
I have games for both kinds
And genders of human beings
All based on the stimulus
Of what I’m feeling and seeing.

Generally a single man
Is not lucky at this scene
A common concept that I
Always found to be quite mean.
I understand about jealousy,
An emotion foreign to me
So, I usually keep my distance
And behave circumspectly.
But when I get the go-ahead
I never hesitate very long.
How could something this good
Be considered bad or wrong?

I lived through it,
The up and down times
When I sold ***
And did other petty crimes.
I was there when
Hot girls were really guys
Hiding floppy secrets
Between their nyloned thighs.

I loved through it,
Saturdays that started
On Tuesday morning
When I first departed;
Two packs of cigs
And a week’s doobies,
By then a value
Almost that of rubies.

I laughed through it,
A **** *****, your jokes
Were so funny if
You were providing smokes.
I flattered and flirted
Whatever it would finally take
To score a bit of ****,
Even the skimpiest shake.

I lolled through it,
Lying buck naked in your bed
Or with your guests
Whatever you originally said
Because you scored,
You were the source of dope.
Without your patronage
I didn’t have a moment of hope.

I hitchhiked through it,
Long trips back from Malibu
When I had worn out
My welcome to the world of you.
I hope the ride might be
Another adventure; more ****,
Or some food and drink
To satisfy my every begging need.

There now is a guy in D.C.
Who thinks he is king there, you see.
He built a big list
And no one was missed
That he wants to throw into the sea.

He decided his kingdom should be
His kind of democracy;
Where we’ll do what he said
Or we’ll end up dead
And he can claim solidarity.

The guy is quite plainly eluded
He wants certain people excluded
He thinks we don’t see
His gross villainy;
The emperor is completely denuded.

He thinks our land is his plaything
He issues demands that are dismaying.
His delusions are obvious.
He’s out to ruin all of us.
It’s a dangerous game he is playing.

Some of us hope he gets locked up
And based on the plans he has hocked up
He reminds of a dumb *****
Who is surprised once more
When she finds out that she’s knocked up.

Today, I was scolded
Was told that I was a boor;
That I had, inadvertently
Rendered some holy cattle
Of theirs a death rattle
A battle I won, without knowing
I had even fought, thought
I was just being amusing,
Somehow confusing my path
Down through the tulips
As a meander down the apse
Of some secret church.
Unfair! I was unaware.
And even now, I fear I care
Far less than they do
About their holy cows.
I didn’t then, I don’t now.

But, I have accepted, long ago
That, with social networking
I simply has to be so
That people will be offended;
Starting open-ended rancor,
Scoring slash after ****** slash
Across my Mr. Perfection sash
Granted me by nobody but me,
And that they will put a smudge
By bearing a grudge
About what I see
As a trifling inconsequentiality.
But is their cathedral,
Their Mecca to bow to
And thus I will be the target
Of slings and arrows.

Shall I be sure to only speak
If I speak plenty of inanities
Muttering banalities about love
And the weather and books
Shall I fear the looks, the scorn
Born of misunderstandings
Taken as mishandling
The hearts of the tender
And render myself informationless,
Opinion free, without personality
Speaking when spoken to eternally
So I don’t trip over hidden wires,
Don’t **** on burning fires
Of pet peeves, rip off the sleeves
Of hair shirts, do idols dirt?
Is that the way it should go?
I don’t think so.
But, what do I know?
I am the scurrilous, stumbling fool
Who ****** in someone’s pool
And told them it was raining.

It’s your own book
But you don’t toe the line!
You ignore your own religion
But demand to control mine!
You deserve no credit
As far as I can see
Except that you excel
In blatant hypocrisy!

You wave your flags
And lionize the Old South
With things Jesus never said
Coming out of your mouth.
It’s almost like your mind
Is now permanently delirious,
Though you still demand that we
Should all take you serious.

Just like a guy in the local park
That seemed to suffer a mental pox,
The difference is, unlike that man
You don’t stand on any soapbox.
But both of you babble constantly
With precisely the same vanity
That the madness you spew
Should be accepted as sanity.

Neither of you care to understand
That spreading untruths can destroy
The wisdom of experience we have.
It blinds people to the precious joy
Of sharing love for love’s own sake;
Accepting people as blessed as you,
And as deserving of your good wishes,
Hoping their best dreams come true.

Today is my birthday
And I don’t have to do a thing.
Not if I don’t want to
I can go on lying around loafing.
I can get up way late
And go to bed as late as I want.
I can watch cool movies
And I have birthday cards to flaunt.

I can have ice cream
And copious amounts of cake.
I can eat like a pig
Until there is no more I can take.
I can sit in BVDs
Or less if I so decided to do.
It feels so good to me
I may take off another day or two.

It means I am older
But it all feels the same to me.
I will change the number
But I don’t feel any differently.
I still like chocolate
And chicken fried and breaded right,
And good sci-fi movies;
Maybe two or three each night.

So sing me the song
And I will blow out the candles.
I’m ready for the party
And all the fun we can handle.
It’s not about presents
It’s all about the celebration
And one more year
In joyous, grateful continuation.

I want to write my fans
Some more lines about kissy face
And beautiful flowers and lakes
And rainbows all over the place.
But, it is difficult to do today
Because a country of loons
Has elected to take office
A few hundred crazy buffoons.

They are turning our country
Into a place of us and them.
And thermonuclear holocaust
Will be a crazy person’s whim.
A megalomaniac playing soldier
With absolutely no regard
For the outcome of his madness
Makes pretty poetry very hard.

It’s extremely hard to come by
And harder yet to conceive
Because true poetry and art
Only come when we believe
And nothing about our fates now
Are anything other than incredible.
What the GOP has cooked up
Is nowhere close to edible.

To me writing fluffy words in rhyme
Is much like Nero and his fiddling.
I can’t just tap dance for the toffs.
I mean, who would I be kidding?
So, don’t expect hearts and flowers
Or many lovely June, moon tunes.
A completely stupid country has left
Us in the hands of bull goose loons.

At the risk of egotistically bragging
I love when my poems start trending.
I love knowing when I post a rhyme
That it’s not simply a sort of ending.
It tickles me to see that this one
Will still be in the universe out there
And won’t just be words that slip away;
The world at large isn’t unaware.

I love that so may people like the words
And so often react with love and sharing
Whether my poem is funny, or even sad
And perhaps sometimes extremely daring.
Sometimes it’s because I have written
What has long needed to be said,
And often because I did not leave
Ideas in my path as if they were dead.

Other times, I just take a chance
In the fervent  hope I am conveying
Something brand new and exciting;
Something that really needed saying.
It reinvigorates me to keep on writing
And authorizes what I am feeling.
It boosts up my self-esteem so much
That it sends me senses reeling.

So thank you, my readership all,
And take this sentence seriously,
I read every comment through.
Sometimes I laugh deliriously.
This kind of acceptance from you
Affects me more strongly than a drug.
Please take my heartfelt thanks
And a great big literary hug.

Here’s my question:
Don’t daughters lope their mules?
However non-existent
They too surely must bend the rules.
Surely it’s not only guys
Who secretly, daily slap their laps.
If so, would you bluenoses
Quickly and firmly shut your yaps?

There are so many things
Boys are not supposed to ever do
Like farting and belching
And all kinds of gods to apologize to.
We have to fold napkins
And keep our elbows off the table.
The list seems to grow.
I’m not sure I will ever really be able.

Adhering to what it takes
In life to keep myself perfectly decent
Seems to involve rules
Both ancient, ecclesiastical and recent.
I must put the lid down
Because, it seems, women can’t do it.
Hold the door open for them
Because, alone, they can’t go through it.

Give your seat up on a bus
Because even if they are younger than I
Women are the weaker ***
And I must be much stronger, I’m a guy.
And there literally hundreds
Of words I can’t say and shouldn’t think.
Now if only the women of the world
Would outlaw me getting near the kitchen sink.

If you are advocating
The eliminating of humans
Assuming they are less
Than the mess you are, then
You are, by far, among the worst,
The first level of devils living
And I am giving you the name
And the blame for the horror
And am all the sorer that you
Insist I must take it silently
While you slice them, bleeding,
Leading them into the jail
Wailing, calling them names
Then maiming, beating and killing
Even when willing, and agree
To cooperate in your travesty.
In your majesty, you feel you
Are the one true and decent
And as they are your victims
Inherit all the ills that go with them;
Your prisoners that you call *******
And beat their insoles and bare feet,
Drag them off the streets for being poor,
Call the women ****** and trash,
Smash them around and then you
Say they fell down, and your boss agrees
When the prisoner’s knees are broken.
Just another token of how awful
And how stinking terrible they are
Those without cars, or jobs, or houses.
Just human louses in stained blouses
And raggedy clothes. Break their nose.
Nobody cares about them.
You are real men, they are not.
They get what they deserve.
“To protect and serve.”

I’ve been a busboy, a waiter,
A salesman for road crews
A cook and a soda ****.
The American market is
Not set up that well for
Kids who want to work.
Before I was twenty five
I’d had eighty different jobs
Some of them at the same time.
Some parents think their kids
Are a good source of income.
Others think that is a crime.

I suppose it’s one thing
If the kid picks his own job;
Does what he wants with money.
But robbing his stash
When he is out working
Is not even close to being funny.
And keeping a youngster
Both working and schooling
And no social or playtime is sad.
It robs him of childhood
And rips off all his ambition.
The child has to somehow turn bad.

Maybe it only trusting
That the kid learns not to do.
Maybe that dreams don’t come true.
Maybe the kid learns
His hard work and dedication
Only gets him blisters when he’s through.
That was all true of me;
I did what I was told and
I learned that joy and accomplishment
Earned no praise for the doing
Only produced, if I didn’t work hard
A tremendous amount of admonishment.

So, when I left home
I had no direction in mind;
I looked ahead to sixty more years
Of working and being robbed
By people I wanted to trust
And not even being capable of tears.
This may sound like a whine
Blaming and much worse
A griper that’s totally out of line.
But what it really means
Is your kids aren’t your slaves
To be put to work in some coal mine.

I understand your feeling;
That nothing ever works,
That all of those who run
Are just a bunch of jerks
That nothing ever gets fixed.
It’s all a money game,
The rich keep getting richer
And no one take the blame.

So, people get elected
And promises are made
Then the other side starts whining
And throwing lots of shade.
Then the media gets in there,
They only care about the ratings.
They focus on who is famous
And who someone is dating.

The issues are complicated
So much is at stake.
It’s not just a simple matter
Of who is on the take.
It’s more like ****** if I do
And cursed if I do not.
What’s the use of voting
When look what we have got?

So, you let them all go on
And you just wait and see.
After all, it’s just a game.
So how bad can it be?
Maybe an outsider now
Who doesn’t follow rules.
Maybe they can get inside
And make them look like fools.

One side says the numbers lie
The other calls them cheats.
One side says trust me folks.
The other lists defeats.
Either way, after ward they
Both will sing he blues.
Should you look at successes
Or vote the evening news?

The best advice is to watch
Who walks their own talk,
And who wants all the money
All the marbles and the chalk.
Who cares to improve the fate
Of those who really need?
And who is driven just by lust
And barefaced naked greed?

Never forget
The lines in my face
Are no disgrace
They speak of a place
You haven’t been yet.

And remember too
The gray in my hair
Is a tale of somewhere;
Tales I can share
That might help guide you.

The frequent bend
In each of my knees
Is on someone who sees
The future as eminent
And the past as a friend.

And my sight now is new;
It’s harder for me
To correctly see
What I read in books
But not what people do.

I’ve heard the sounds of time
The joys and the tears
For so oh many years;
I can tell the difference
Between blessings and crimes.

Touch me
Like you can’t hardly stand it,
Like you really truly mean it,
Like you can’t control your hand, it
Just wants to reach out for me
And caress me so tenderly
Just to let me know
You love me so.

Touch me
And let me know your feeling
That I’m more than just appealing
That I set your senses reeling
And nothing is going right
If you’re not with me tonight.
I will understand
From the touch of your hand.

Touch me
The most gentle of caresses
Like smothering with kisses.
A magic moment like this is
What life is all about
So, let’s not leave it out.
Don’t let it pass us by
It’s easy if you try.

Touch me
Now nothing else will do
To make one out of us two.
That’s why I’m asking you
It’s the greatest thing you can do
Pull me close to you.
Hold me and kiss me
But, baby, just touch me.

I have busted my ****, sliding down rainbows
And fell through many pink clouds on my ear.
I always whistle as I pass by graveyards
Threw hundreds in wishing wells, over the years.
I defaulted my rent on castles in the air.
I carefully avoided stepping on any cracks.
I walk endless miles not to walk under ladders.
I carefully avoid walking near any cat if it is black.

I totally buy that I am superstitious
And I wear that distinction like a hair shirt.
But I see problem in not taking chances;
It may not work, but it couldn’t hurt.

I’ve cramps in my fingers from them being crossed.
I would never break any kind of mirror, of course .
And I still have salt sprinkled on my shoulders.
Wishing on many stars, I have made myself hoarse.
I always look away when a funeral goes by.
I spit in my palm when I hear something spooky.
I drop coins into the bowls of all beggars
Even though most of my friends think me kooky.

It’s not like I go broke on soothsayers
And buy all the amulets I see on TV.
But It makes little sense to take a moment
To avoid the omens anyone can see.

Yes I buy copper bracelets to save me
From arthritis or rheumatism of my knee.
I never wear clothing the color of blood,
That only makes common sense to me.
Some think I’m a few boards short of a fence
Be that as it may, and all well and good
My guess is you all have looked around
To find something so you could knock on wood.

I totally buy that I am superstitious
And I wear that distinction like a hair shirt.
But I see problem in not taking chances;
It may not work, but it couldn’t hurt.

Pretending while the rest of us are descending
Into the legislative hell you love so well.
Tough *****, DC City,
You get no sympathy from me.
Half the country is on drugs, and you’re all smug.
******* clowns, I hope you all go down.
Tough *****, DC City,
You don’t much impress me.

You sold your souls to the big money creeps
And soon you won’t be able to sleep.
You are finding out the old saying is true;
You are judged by the company you keep.
And you’re keeping company with half-bright thugs
And ugly fat cats with purely evil souls
You value wealth more than suffering people.
You’re those without compassion on the whole.

You think if you lie often enough we’ll believe
Sadly that sometimes truns out true.
Tough *****, DC City,
Your fingers are sticky as glue.
The people may burn your mansions down.
See if your bribes protect you then.
Tough *****, DC City,
I hope the good people jail you.

I wish I could hold back paying my taxes
Just like you rich people manage to do.
Tough *****, DC City,
I’d laugh as you tumble.
When your corrupt regime falls apart
You’ll want us to rescue all of  you.
Tough *****, DC City,
I’ll sit back and watch things crumble.

Do you only touch in anger?
Do you have the habit of hugging your kid?
Or do you prefer not to
Just like the parents of criminals did?
Do you think hugging
Will make your child turn out to be soft?
With nobody home to turn to
Would your child then be better off?

Does your son or daughter
Go without being touched in love for years?
Is the only emotion allowed
Obedience and silence, never any tears?
Does your perfect child idea
Amount to something like a stuffed toy?
Does your list not involve
Things that are normal for a girl or boy?

Is everything else important,
But not the issue of your child’s happiness?
When your child asks questions
Do you treat it as just smart-mouthedness?
If your child questions bad ideas
Do you take that as a personal attack?
Do you find yourself thinking,
And saying, you want your freedom back?

If any of the above is true
You are not being a loving kind of parent.
If your child’s image of you
Is of an angry person given to swearing
And calling them names
That should be reserved for enemy,
Then wake up and realize
That’s not the right behavior to use on family.

Demons of change taunted me
If I don’t do what I always did;
Fear of being strange haunted me.
What punishment for what I hid?
Maybe things will be a bit better
And settle down a bit after while
But life doesn’t seem to work well
Like when I could wink and smile.

My looks used to get me a ways,
Where mornings could turn into nights
I could have fun and party for days
And everything seemed fun and right.
I started out drinking and using
To overcome all my social fears.
It was just for weekends, partying,
But then it turned into many years.

I bought the drinks and the grass
And suddenly I was a welcome guy.
Later I too publicly fell on my ***
And nobody even asked me why.
But I caught myself holding ****
And *****, and keeping quiet
So nobody would come knocking
To party hearty and to try it.

And then one day, demons came
And heartlessly showed the truth;
They showed me myself by name,
I was no longer a pretty youth.
Only those as bad as I had become
Could stand to spend time with me.
I came to and realized I was numb
That my life had turned into tragedy.

I closed the box and hid it
So many years ago now
That I forgot all about it
But, I am not sure how.
It meant so much to me
Back when memory hurt.
I told myself I was a victim
And love had done me dirt.

It was only a short affair
Love lasting longer than the act.
I labeled it to myself and others
As the best as a matter of fact.
Prince Charming and all that;
The love of my life back then.
The most I had ever ventured;
The fullest my heart had been.

I only had to see my love
For all of my plans to change
To fall so fast and so hard
Never for a moment felt strange.
It felt so completely natural
To dedicate all of my dreams
And all of my hope for life.
Now, how crazy that seems.

But who can tell young love
How to behave and how to act.
It sometimes seems madness
As if I and the devil made a pact.
But it was more that someone
Looked and found love in my eyes.
When that is the feeling happening
Who stops to think of goodbyes?

I still have the love I felt then
And cradle it deep inside
And the box holds mementos
I carefully collected to hide.
Each item as I touch them
Takes me back to that day
And gives me back the love
I never want to feel go away.

What the hell is a katydid?
Is it near where the carotid is hid?
And, is there a reason we need
To know whatever Katy did?

Why does macaroni have an elbow?
This sounds to me a lot like a phony.
And how far back and forward does it go?
Really? Anthropomorphized macaroni?

What kind of person puts a bra on a car?
I mean, the entire idea is a bit bizarre,
One of the silliest I have heard of so far.
Does anyone know what automoboobies are?

Can people play poker with potato chips?
Maybe they’ll up the ante with avocado dip?
Then Vegas would not be such a wise trip.
Gives a new meaning to being ‘in the chips’.

Who gets to legally use a homophone?
And can anyone properly use it alone?
Since we no longer dial, why dial tone?
Some of this stuff if from the Twilight Zone.

Political parties don’t seem to be fun,
Not even for the lucky ones that won.
It must mean something that people run
But they look like something to run from.

Why would anybody put money into a kitty.
What is the matter that they have no pity?
After all, most kitties are way itty bitty.
So, stop putting money into a poor kitty!

And this putting on the dog stuff annoys.
It sounds like the game of bratty boys;
They finally get old enough to ignore toys
And play word games on a dog. Oh joy!

And what does it mean to horse around?
Is it the pantomime horse worn by clowns?
It can’t be the kind of horse one rides around?
That kind might trample a fool into the ground.

They call her Truck Stop Tessie
Out I-forty a ways.
Usually you can find her there
Most sunny days.
And even if it’s raining
I am sure if you tried
You still will find Tessie
At the café inside.

She calls herself a housewife
But that would be a lie
She doesn’t ever clean the place
She can’t cook a pie.
She only gets dressed up
To go out on the town.
She a big old mess unless
She’s messing around.

They call her Truck Stop Tessie
Out I-forty a ways.
Usually you can find her there
Most sunny days.
And even if it’s raining
I am sure if you tried
You still will find Tessie
At the café inside.

She’s an old fashioned ******
In a new-fangled dress.
She makes out she’s a lady
But she’s a bit of a mess.
She dropped out of high school
To ride in boy’s cars.
If they make a round-heel movie
She could be the big star.

They call her Truck Stop Tessie
Out I-forty a ways.
Usually you can find her there
Most sunny days.
And even if it’s raining
I am sure if you tried
You still will find Tessie
At the café inside.

She was going with another guy
When it all started out.
He wouldn’t take her dancing
So she started to pout.
Then, he slapped her face a bit,
I stepped in to defend.
I probably should slap myself
Make this nightmare end.

They call her Truck Stop Tessie
Out I-forty a ways.
Usually you can find her there
Most sunny days.
And even if it’s raining
I am sure if you tried
You still will find Tessie
At the café inside.

I don’t know what it was
That made my life worse
But I know for certain
What made it all reverse.
I stopped lying to myself and
Stopped lying to others.
I started treating people
Like my sisters and brothers.

I crashed around in life
Like a gorilla in a cage
A big, loud, mindless baby
Too infantile to be acting
Like that at my age.
I was full of self-pity for
What I felt how much I hurt.
I kept an inventory of pain
And treated people like dirt.

People kept saying to me
“There are no big deals!”
I heard the words, but
I didn’t think they were real.
There are big deals for sure
Like cancer, AIDS and death
So, how can you say that, with
Anything like a sane breath?

“God never gives you anything”
They’d say, “that you can’t handle.”
Well, I won’t give you a match
To light that particular candle.
Tell that to the tiny babies lying
Deaf, blind and sick in cribs.
Gone before they are old enough
To even wear a baby bib.

You keep that circular logic.
No. Sorry, Next person please.
This one spent a long time
Praying to nothing on his knees.
I have found it is better for me
To look at life as what I make
And what I do about it all
Whatever effort it may take.

Investing in coins under pillows;
A gift from the fairy that wasn’t.
Accept a life without Santa Claus.
Stuff happens and sometimes doesn’t.
I don’t do myself any big favors
Lying to myself about me or you.
I have to learn what to do with
What is really beautiful and true.

I keep on telling the truth,
You know, like you never do.
I call you by name and say
All I say about you is true.
I wrote poems about you,
What the hell do you want?
You ignore all I have said
You ignore all my taunts.

I want you to sue me
Then with proof that you lie
The world can finally rest
And bid you goodbye
As they drag your fat ***
Off to Leavenworth jail
Where you won’t have Twitter,
Internet or even email.

I hope you get convicted
As the Corrupter In Chief
Because you are nearly
The worst kind of public thief.
You steal from the poor
And have kidnapped children,
And you  think your cowardice
Is a secret and is hidden.

Daily I hope someone intelligent
Will go sue you for defaulting
On the promises you made us
That have been obviously insulting.
You broadcast your hatred for us if we
Are not rich, perverted Republicans.
Now you are reversing all the good
That decent people have done.

I am ashamed of the millions
Who act like you are Jesus
When it’s as plain as your nose
You are like an obese Rhesus.
I’m sorry so many people are nuts,
Too weak-minded to recognize
What an ugly fate for America
You are unveiling before their eyes.

How can you
Let him do this to you?
So many lies
You fail to see through!
You insist on being
An incredibly stupid pigeon!
You don’t make sense,
Not the tiniest smidgeon.

You ******* when Clinton
Got a simple office beejay
But now you let Chump
Grab crotches along the way.
You turn a blind eye
When he steals from us daily,
And let him ruin the US
And continue pillaging gaily.

How can you
Let him do this to you?
So many lies
You fail to see through!

You claim he’s Christian
Though he acts like a true pagan;
You accept his KKK crap
And reject Hawking and Sagan.
You let him do things
That remove other politicians
When he should be
The point of many petitions.

You insist on being
An incredibly stupid pigeon!
You don’t make sense,
Not the tiniest smidgeon.

You parrot his words,
But his talk is completely bogus.
You holler and howl
And you think you’re fooling us.
But he is a charlatan
And often says what he means,
Then tells lies you like
And shoves them in between.

How can you
Let him do this to you?
So many lies
You fail to see through!

Trumpstrumpets, look what you have done.
You couldn’t have done worse if you use a gun.
You are so blind you don’t see where this is leading.
Because of your madness, civil rights are bleeding.
All over the civilized world, he turned back the clock.
Because of his greed, America is a laughing stock.
We listen to your excuses and his lies and shake.
This idea that he is a good man is a major mistake.

He always was a liar and a cheat, from the start.
He swindles, dodges and appears to have no heart.
It’s all about him and his ego and who he can cheat.
If he an become emperor his agenda will be complete.
He can dispense with laws and rules and can instead
Sit on his golden throne and cry, “Off with his head!”
And you people who never seem to have read the bible
Say he is a godly person is a straight up case of libel.

So Trumpstrumpets, keep on telling yourself lies
About how he is so trustworthy, good and wise
When the truth is you all should be hiding and blushing
Because the man is nothing but a tool for the Russians.
He’s out to feather his own nest and line his pockets.
Meanwhile, he is setting us up for bombs and rockets.
We are part of a global village of international trust.
This one man, is turning our sterling image to rust.

I write my poems
Then post them online
For all the world to see
And I never noticed that I
Am writing the tale of me.
I never felt a moment's fear
That some would read here
Any kind of indictment
Or make hurtful judgment,
Though some have before.
Even those I don’t ignore.

I am weaving piecemeal
A  harlequin coat of words
That, when they are heard,
Tell you more than asking
More than admitting aloud
Under oath to an eager crowd
Of prosecutors and accusers
And those who support me
Waiting in their seats, hoping
I won’t quit telling, revealing
The tale of a man who rhymes.
It is nearly my only crime.

Please accept, it is only humming,
Something you may do at work;
Me jerking a pen and scribbling.
Don’t bother with quibbling
Because that is what it is,
Doodling, noodling, muttering
But doing it on paper, lettering
Making tuneless music from me
So others can see and happily
Decide to keep it or share it.
I don’t care. It matters not to me.
I give my literary gifts freely.

Tweetheart, tweetheart
I’m posting you a pastry
Tweet days and tweet nights
As tweet as it can be.
A tweet that makes you
Want to beat your feet
Everywhere and anywhere
Even across the tweet.

A tweet as tweet as candy
A tweet without defeat
I tweet you almost endlessly
I tweet you by the sheet.
I tweet you here, tweet you there,
Even to the county seat.
Everywhere and anywhere
The tweet that can’t be beat.

A tweet for the wintertime
A tweet even in the heat.
Every kind of tweet there is
The set will be complete.
I tweet for the left
I tweet for the right
Tweet dreams for everyone.
To all a tweet goodnight.

It was a scam, a sham
The flimmiest of flams
There was more pork there
Than a Christmas ham.
It’s nothing but a racket
Stuff it all into a big packet
And put into a time capture
Leave it until the rapture
Where it can’t hurt anybody
Then, fix yourself a hot toddy
And laugh about how shoddy
Future folks will think we are.

They won’t be wrong by far.
They’ll marvel at how many
Candidates worth a penny,
Or less, showed up to run
Like the whole thing was fun
And better than a TV show.
How could they tumble for
Not that good of a governor
Didn’t know what lips are for
Or what to say on the floor
Yet some wanted her to run?

What fun the press had with
Filling up the internet bandwidth
With screeching permutations
Of tired old KKK reiterations
Of the wonderful Aryan nation
The South advocated before
We had us a big-*** ugly war.
It’s like they didn’t know they lost
And were prepared to pay the cost
To do it all over again, not just men
But women too, who shouldn’t do
Because they were not part of
The government to be started up.

It was rather Alice In Wonderland,
The fuzzy details of their whole plan.
Certain things were carved in stone.
Some should go back to an age of stone
And forever leave the real people alone.
Because they’d shout out now and then
That this world was meant for white men
To run and control and own. Nothing tribal.
They said it was written in their Bible
Which was obvious they never really read
Or they would know what it really said
About helping the poor, the halt and lame.

They went on doing harm in the name
Of the King of Passion and Rescue
Saying that was the wrong thing to do.
They insisted they could do what pleases
And it should have nothing to do with Jesus.
It’s all about who is rich and who is not
And who doesn’t need what they have got:
All the good land and the mineral rights.
The rest can just stay up nights working
Two jobs, maybe three, they didn’t care.
Those pundits had to start somewhere.
Let those dishwashers and caddies
Go get their own filthy rich daddies
To leave them accounts full of millions
So they could hire undocumented millions
To build their dynasties of marble and gold.
Really, folks. This story never gets old.

It used to be you and me
Separately, distinctively
Distinguished from others
More than sisters and brothers
More than fathers and mothers
A family of our own
Two of us alone
Facing a world ready
To tear us apart
Separate us
Denigrate us
For loving each other
Choosing one another
instead of acquiescing,
Bowing and scraping
To the rules laid out
By those with the clout
To call us names and scorn
Try to deny we were born
As the people we are.
But, it turns out, so far
We are stronger
And out love lasts longer
From when we had begun
Than those who feel none.
As our love moves along
We have become twice as strong.

Twinkle, twinkle, GOP
Scaring hell right out of me.
Platforms aren’t worth a crap
I’d like to give your face a slap.
All your antics have grown old
And your twinkle’s not from gold.

Twinkle tinsel seems to me
Not of diamond quality.
None is precious metal grade.
Fake as promises you made.
Hating is your stock in trade.
Embezzlement the game you played.

Missile epistle, you love war.
You forgot what we are for.
We were formed to protect
Not hanging nooses around necks.
Freedom was the reason why
Not to make foreigners die.

Swindle, chisel is your game.
Set the economy aflame.
Locking down the government.
We knew bigotry was meant.
Voters have begun to see
Your ranks filled with villainy.

Sizzle, melting is our wish
Just like Oz’s ugly witch.
That would be a perfect end;
Nothing but a smudge to tend,
Thirty years from now when we
Have repaired your bastardy.

When I’m up in the night
Because I have to ***
I say to myself wryly,
“This is longevity.”
I remind myself then
This is the way things are
When a person my age
Manages to get this far.

I repeat to myself then
How stupid I was as a kid
And make an inventory
Of the dumb stuff I did.
And how I didn’t see
How lucky I had been
To have so much energy
And ambition back then.

I remember weekends
Where I played until three
And woke up very early
Ready for the day happily.
I remind myself of freedom
From aching backs and knees,
And for decades on end,
Doing whatever I pleased.

I remember, and that alone,
Is a victory for my years
Because my memory works well;
Not so much my aging ears.
And glasses must be found
To get from here to the bed.
By now I am celebrating
That I am here, and not dead.

I see other people
And they’re happy two by two
It’s like they all know
Exactly what they should do.
They smile sweetly
They hug and hold hands
TheY talk to each other
And seem to understand.

They look into their eyes
And don’t quickly look away
And seem to be listening
To what the other has to say.
The smiles are frequent
And so is the cheerful laughter.
It seems they are well into
Their happily ever after.

Two minus one
The mathematics of my story.
Plenty of guts
But never that much of glory.
There must be something
I have not learned to do
That makes one plus one
Add to up to a decent two.

Going out to dinner
With couples is quite a trial.
Everyone gets uncomfortable.
I quit doing it after a while.
It hurts to see happiness
When you aren’t getting much.
The reminders are constant
With their every loving touch.

Two minus one
The mathematics of my story.
Plenty of guts
But never that much of glory.
There must be something
I have not learned to do
That makes one plus one
Add to up to a decent two.

You’re two-way traffic
On a one-way street
I get a bit of sugar
But it is not so sweet.
You go and you come
But I’m here to stay.
You may or may not be here
At the end of the day.

You’re a true free spirit
You will hasten to say.
You’ll always come back
Just maybe not today.
You tell me to trust you
That you are coming back.
That’s so hard to believe.
You have no bags to pack.

You make only promises
With your body and your smile.
That only lasts a little bit
The scariest piece of a while
And fails to keep me warm
While you have gone away
To express your freedom
And to revel in your play.

You’re a wandering stranger
In a game made for friends
I fail to count any winnings
When the game finally ends.
I’m sure the game I’m playing
Is quite different from  yours.
It has you in the playground
And me in doing chores.

You’re two-way traffic
On a one-way street
I get a bit of sugar
But it is not so sweet.
You go and you come
But I’m here to stay.
You may or may not be here
At the end of the day.

I’m wondering and worrying
Am I blundering or wallowing
Do I swallow all my fears
And forget about the years
That came before today
And hope they go away
And never bother me again?
When does that start, when?

Grumbling and mumbling
Stumbling and bumbling
I learn to stifle my tears
And through catatonic years
I forgot how to play
And locked myself away
From the fellowship of friends.
I hope to survive until it ends.

Itching and *******, I switch
To calling people a sunsabitch
Because they don’t guess
Why I’m a big freaking mess
And help me to recover
Maybe come be my lover
Because I don’t know how.
Let that part start right now.

Smoking and toking every day
Won’t make the blues go away.
Huffing and binge drinking
Means I’m not really thinking
And too often these days
That is what I have prayed;
To be blissfully unaware
That I am going nowhere.

When I was just a little kid
Uncle Jeff talked to me
About the things people said
As opposed to what I could see.
He cautioned me to listen
And watch people carefully
He promised me an education,
Just made for little me.

Do they walk their talk
When no one is around?
Do they mean the words they say, or
Is it just a lot of sound?
Do you feel you can trust them
With what you put away
Or do you think they will cheat you
And take it for their rainy day?

There are those who even as children
Prefer what other kids get
They grow up to be criminals
So you must not forget.
Another word for criminals
Is a word called ‘politicians’.
They’re very strong with cheating
But not good at admissions.

Money in their bank account
Is all that’s driving them.
Look for their integrity?
The pickings will be slim.
They look for what they can get
From you in many ways.
The cards are marked, you can depend
And they know all the plays.

Do they walk their talk
When no one is around?
Do they mean the words they say, or
Is it just a lot of sound?
Do you feel you can trust them
With what you put away
Or do you think they will cheat you
And take it for their rainy day?

You and they don’t think alike;
You can’t guess what they think.
But you can bet when they suggest
The idea will highly stink.
Your best protection is to hide
When these creeps are around.
If you have to pack your things
And move to a different town.

I have learned my Uncle Jeff
Was wise beyond his years.
He had a lot of wisdom stored
Securely between his ears.
He shared them with a little child
And I listened to what he said.
I heard his words as clean pure truth
And kept them in my head.

Do they walk their talk
When no one is around?
Do they mean the words they say, or
Is it just a lot of sound?
Do you feel you can trust them
With what you put away?
Or do you think they will cheat you
And take it for their rainy day?

Take one step forward
And two steps back.
Be sure you are following
The corporate track.
Pay out your earnings
Never give a ****
Now you are doing
The Uncle Sam Scam.

Bend right over and
Touch your own toes.
The politicians mostly can’t
And that’s how it goes.
They get their money
And big raises too.
Just like the CEOs
But none for you.

Take one step forward
And two steps back.
Be sure you are following
The corporate track.
Pay out your earnings
Never give a ****
Now you are doing
The Uncle Sam Scam.

Social Security funds
Came in mighty handy
When Georgie wanted war
And it was a dandy.
It made money for
His favorite buddies
And made our country’s rep
Murderously muddy.

Take one step forward
And two steps back.
Be sure you are following
The corporate track.
Pay out your earnings
Never give a ****
Now you are doing
The Uncle Sam Scam.

If you think more of CEOs
And big money corporations
Than you do of the people
Suffering in our nation
And you keep voting for jerks
And overrated hams
You are becoming champions
Of the Uncle Sam Scam.

UNDERDOG RAP

We are a population which is
Awaiting loaves and the fishes
And other unfulfilled wishes;
No chance to know what rich is,
While graduates are digging ditches
Immigrant PhDs are doing dishes.
Never quite knowing which is
Snake oil salesmen pitches.
Politicians too big for their britches.

Fools don’t know where the hitch is
Whatever the larcenous pitch is;
Reacting with kneejerk twitches
Due to governmental glitches.
And creeps like that guy Mitch is
Are rapacious sons of *******
Hunting for Democratic witches
In all the freedom fighting niches
With hearts as black as pitch is.

And the rich have a wish list
In which they scratch their itches
Regardless of what our ***** is
By wallowing in stolen riches
Punishing watchdogs snitches.
Politicians too big for their britches.
We are a population which is
Awaiting loaves and the fishes
And other unfulfilled wishes.
No chance to know what rich is.

Brent Kincaid

March 19, 2015

We talked about fun
A night of one and one
Two adults out dating
Not a lady-in-waiting.
Two people holding hands,
We didn’t have any plans
Not saying words like never
And always and forever.

It’s an unwritten verbal contract
With just the one signature.
The expectancy of longevity
Is more than a bit premature.
It is important to recognize it
When it’s all about fun and games.
It keeps temperature from rising
And avoids the calling of names.

Then it all got turned around
And quite suddenly I found
There were rules for me to obey
Like staying out too late in the day
And things I had to do with you
If I wanted to demonstrate I was true.
It was no longer important to you
It was not enough just loving you.

It’s an unwritten verbal contract
With just the one signature.
The expectancy of longevity
Is more than a bit premature.

I am a prisoner in your heart
When did my sentence start?
How long will I have to serve?
How did you get the nerve
To change a delightful love affair
Into something that would scare?
Sorry, I have to call a halt
You know it’s all your fault.

It is important to recognize it
When it’s all about fun and games.
It keeps temperature from rising
And avoids the calling of names.

We only had a few short dates
We barely made it to third base
And yet the thing is totally shattered.
You’re out looking at china patterns.
There were no promises ever made.
I do not mean to be throwing shade
But this is not the thing I agreed upon
Whatever we once had is now gone.

It’s an unwritten verbal contract
With just the one signature.
The expectancy of longevity
Is more than a bit premature.
It is important to recognize it
When it’s all about fun and games.
It keeps temperature from rising
And avoids the calling of names.

Life was an upward battle
Of intense personal frustration,
As we were treated like cattle
With unabashed discrimination.
And those of us who existed
Without rights or respect
We had a stronger hope
Than we had reason to expect.

When some of us reminded
Jesus said love your brother
They made up ***** jokes
Used ugly names of our mothers.
Some invented a phrase to use
That said God Hates *******.
They seemed to imply that God
Treated some children like maggots.

Rights were something given
At birth to regular human beings
To other people who were living
But justice we were not seeing
Because justice was not for us
It was for heterosexual whites.
The rest of us had few rights.

True, it was not legal to **** us
But in court things went elsewise.
Police and judges carried on
And covered their acts with lies.
With them bad could be good.
They behaved themselves oddly
Jailing and imprisoning us
Claiming it was all very godly.

And, today, with communication
Such an instantaneous entity
Things have gotten a bit better.
We’re still surrounded by enemy
That quotes a bible they don’t read
And block those any attempt to heal
Wanting instead to make hatred
And legal discrimination real.

Brent Kincaid
4/7/2015

They gave themselves raises
And the best insurance around.
They’re taking down medicare
To leave us on fallow ground.
They stole from Social Security
Then called it an entitlement
And plan to steal it all from us
And call it good management.

Pull up your heads
And look around.
They’re stealing everything
Even the soil in the ground.
Speak up loudly
Like you never did before.
Only offshore bank accounts
Will tell the honest score.

We’re all in trouble, people
And too few of us believe
This is the time to throw them out
And not a time for us to grieve.
Doing nothing is how we got here
Crooks have us by the throats.
We need to be angry Rottweilers
Instead of a herd of lazy goats.

Pull up your heads
And look around.
They’re stealing everything
Even the soil in the ground.
Speak up loudly
Like you never did before.
Only offshore bank accounts
Will tell the honest score.

Life once meant something
You could later show your kids
So they could be proud of you
And all the good you did,
So they could grow and learn
And pass along the same way
When it came their turn to teach
Their children some fine day.

We learned to play with others
In back yards with few fences
And we laughed with immigrants
Like Borge and Señor Wences.
We stayed outside and played
With the kids of our neighbors.
Mom stayed home, Dad worked
And we profited from his labors.

We still had pride of who we were
And what we did during the war.
We knew what peace and freedom
And the Constitution were for.
Our country was the role model
For democracy doing it’s job
And we never thought our country
Would stoop at a chance to rob.

We were told if we worked hard
We could expect to do very well.
Never once was it hinted to us
That we would drop into a living hell.
We trusted that our leaders would
Continue to have our collective back.
But that was before those elected went
So egregiously far off the track.

It’s hard to remember this now,
Back then a forty hour situation
Was all it took to make our way
In our proud and righteous nation.
Now both parents must work at
Maybe two jobs each every day
In order for the family to succeed
Not like our parents used to say.

I know someday
You’ll look at me
And our love affair
Will be all gone.
You and I both will
Have had our fun
And time will come
For you to move on.

Vagabond love
It’s an acquired taste
And not everybody
Can easily tolerate it.
All the neat tricks
That exist within
The world won’t work;
Won’t win when we debate it.

I’m sure we will
Go from breakfast
Late and ****
To passing in the hall.
Then one day soon
You’ll be packed up
As if you never really
Have lived here at all.

Vagabond love
Means one must learn
To appreciate that
We’ve had love to feel.
And just because
It didn’t last forever
Does not mean
None of it was real.

Veronica LaMonica
Played the harmonica
In our local high school band.
She collected japonica
She says it is a tonic
Attuned to a young lady’s hand.
She swears she is not picky
But avoids the ricky-ticky
And goes instead for the class.
She claims not to be picky
But avoids like a big hickey
Anything of plastic or brass.

Veronica LaMonica
Played the harmonica
In our local high school band.
She collected japonica
She says it is a tonic
Attuned to a young lady’s hand.

Veronica is the prettiest
Down to the nitty grittiest
Girl in the local school we both attend.
She’s not always wittiest
Rather hit and messiest,
But I’m glad at least she is my friend.
I’d like her to be more
That’s what this rhyme if for
To tell her she’s the best in the world.
She ’s the very highest floor,
The one have always adored,
She’s most artistically talented girl.

Veronica LaMonica
Played the harmonica
In our local high school band.
She collected japonica
She says it is a tonic
Attuned to a young lady’s hand.

Gratitude may have nothing to do with latitude.
It may, but it can pull you out of sad lassitude.
If we are lucky, it results in some kind of beatitude
Felt in welcome happy waves of great amplitude.

Those who repeatedly fail to be grateful
May find their lives unfortunately fateful.
And those whom insist on being disgraceful
May probably end in the mud with a face full.

Many folks exist with morals all eschewed
Not often enough that do so end up *******.
But maybe with their karma thus imbued
They’ll sicken hearing their opinion booed.

While to some it is easy to be disdainful,
Especially those who live without a brain full,
And those to whom greed is the main pull,
Let’s all hope their daily lives are painful .

Now we know how the fools are wooed
We should take steps to not come unglued
And band together when times get rude
And not elect those from a defective brood.

Those who repeatedly fail to be grateful
May find their lives unfortunately fateful.
And those whom insist on being disgraceful
May probably end in the mud with a face full.

T. Ronald Dump
Thought he had a jump
On all this messy "prezzy" biz
Which took us to the precipice
Of our national destruction
With one skewed election.
A **** with bad elocution
Is in charge with no solutions.

A fool got elected
Now we are all unprotected
From taking a journey
Turning this into **** Germany
Because he knows well
That in a short spate of hell
He will make tons of money
And he finds that so funny.

Meanwhile we are dying
And without any trying
He will take a great thing
And leave it gasping
For that last healthy breath
While he watches the death
And with one of his ugly sighs
Blames it on the other guys.

Those of us who are old
Needed heeding when told
That this was very ugly old news.
We saw it happen to the Jews
The intellectuals and gays
In the not so distant days
Of scary World War Two
And now it will happen to you.

T. Ronald Dump
Thought he had a jump
On all this messy "prezzy" biz
Which took us to the precipice
Of our national destruction
With one skewed election.
A **** with bad elocution
Is in charge with no solutions.

A small single apartment
That is all I really need.
The result of low ambition
And a paucity of greed.
A kitchen for cooking
A comfy place to sleep
Just great for meditation for
Thoughts that don’t go deep.

It was close to my buddies
That good old gang of mine
I go there, they come here,
As long as there was wine.
I was serving jug wine
And vintage it was not.
I had to switch to *** when
My stomach started to rot.

I also served cheap beer,
The cheapest I could find.
Between the wine and beer
It’s lucky today I’m not blind.
And food was also frugal
Mostly chips and salsa hot.
Stoners aren’t that choosy.
Gourmands we were not.

Of course we all had our own
Personal marijuana stash.
Its quality depended on
The amount of available cash.
But one of us was a dealer
Or sometimes there were two.
They always brought a supply
To sell, that’s what they do.

We laughed and roared and
Someone always had a guitar
It is nineteen seventy two
And that’s how conditions are.
Some of us had jobs back then
But most were floating around.
It’s hard to be a stable soul
With no feet on the ground.

I used to look like a famous person,
And I swear I really still do.
I started out looking like Dagwood
And now I resemble Mister Magoo.
On a fairly regular basis
I had to shave my face
And gripe about it as I did; now
There are hairs all over the place.

Oh, I remember times quite well
I used to bend to pick up a coin.
Then quickly stand right up again.
Now it causes pain in my groin.

I’d stand before the mirror, I’d
Spend much time combing my hair.
It had to look lush and thick
Now it’s gone, so I no longer care.
Because my forehead has grown
Much longer than my tresses.
I no longer have to worry
About any tangled messes.

I used to be able to eat
Anything put before me
But now I have to watch
What I munch on carefully.
Some things bind me,
And stop all activity,
And some things make me
Take ***** trips frequently.

I’d ***** about this aging stuff
But I have learned not to whine
Because I am still around.
So, longevity is mine.
Some people ridicule me
Because I walk slowly
I tell them I hope they can walk
When they are as old as me.

These are voodoo days
When monsters have their way
With the good people alive
So the evil people can thrive.
This is a time when madness
Roams the land to pillage
And rename the boundaries
Of our fine global village.

Children once went to school
And we made sure they learned
What had happened to us all
When dissenting books were burned.
Then too many scary people
Got by with lying to us a lot.
They didn’t have us in mind,
And didn’t care what we thought.

So, their Halloween costumes seem
To only be visible to the eye
When you listen to their chants
Instead of just passing by.
If you listen closely to the words
And not just campaign speech,
You quickly see dictatorship
Is not far out of their reach.

When your friendly candidate
Starts sounding like a Mussolini
Standing up and calling them out
Does not make you a ******.
No, it makes you more of true
Patriot caring for your country
Than guys in expensive suits
Who only care about their money.

I can clearly state
And easily enumerate
No need to exaggerate
That in the aggregate
Up until the current date
The state of our beloved state
Has chosen to populate
The majority of the electorate
With the dregs of the vulgate.

I’m stating that our congress
Has become a total mess
With the outcome being less
Pleasing than a pool of cess.
With many of ‘no’ and few of ‘yes’
I fear we have to confess
We will be forced to dress
In ***** rags and even less
Too broke for a game of chess.

We are a buckless stag nation
On less than WW2 B rations
Caught in the collaboration
Between rightist indignation
And hyper-religious damnation
Golden calf worship and adoration
Built on the dollar sign adulation
Fostered by the dissembling peroration
By the authors of American privation.

Our representatives sell out constantly
And take in our dollars steadily
Saying yes to bribery readily
Feathering their beds happily
Ignoring their promises fearlessly
Because they proceed quite protectedly
From any repercussions legally
From the almighty powers that be
That coddle and tend them carefully.
It has to be that way necessarily
In this falsely-labeled free country.