Devise a revision to revise the division–
let them tremble at this lying vision:
and, like some Antinomian libertine
abuse the grace of Christ and cause a scene
in Jewsalem, capitol of the Gentile world;
the rainbow flag is soon to be unfurled.
Messianic ******* cast away;
God’s own body must illuminate the way.
Tautology thought: theology taught:
Mufti and the atheists all distraught.
Pre-formed references yield
to reformed preferences.

Don’t it always seem to go
That you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone
They paved paradise and put up a parking lot…
                                                                    Joni Mitchell

Fighting their wars in business suits
Blowing up peasant villages
Lying, While the Pentagon loots
Our failing empire pillages.

The wonder boys from Ivy Leagues
Look good on paper, making war
Their covert actions and intrigues
Exhibit what they tax us for.

Patriot boogey-man ** Chi Minh
Was armed by US in forty-five;
Then made the foe as we sent in
Our troops. And some returned alive.

The Dulles brothers, with their spooks
Testing strategies, had a ball
Dropping ****** on the *****;
Earth turned into a shopping mall.

And now, some puppet in Ukraine
(a Chinese laundry for their cash),
Requests more arms. So please explain
Before Crimea burns to ash.

That’s all. Their only long-term vision:
Body-counts— first bomb, then Starbucks.
Spectacles on television;
Do not question Daddy Warbucks.

Strange brew, **** what’s inside of you...
                                                            Cr­eam

Surrounded by militant forms of Dumb;
To whose next rage must we succumb?
What ethnic-racial god of wrath
Will plunge us in his ****** bath
And wash foul whiteness from our souls
To further ****** madmen’s goals?
YaHuWaHusha (hashtag #hate)
Has henchmen waiting at the gate
Misquoting scriptures, twisting phrases
Forcing words to march through mazes,
Quite assured they possess the key
To set their dark asylum free.
Babylon’s falling. Drain the cup.
Will the real Judah please stand up?
Crowns, purple aprons, boots on feet
Wash brains in scripture. Rinse. Repeat.
Their mind a concentration camp,
Hateful doctrines burn: their lamp
Now flickers, low on Israel-light.
God’s thugs are looking for a fight—
Whoever they hate is a Canaanite.

So look out sailor when you hear them croon
You’ll never be the same again, oh no
Their crazy music drives you insane. . .
                                                
                               Roxy Music

A ****** of song, a passing fit
They call to you and no one saves.
And then you loosen— just a bit:
Dopamine rolls in with the waves.

Captain—can you hear that sound?
That song unearthly screaming bliss;
Moaning sighing seas resound
The island welcomes like a kiss.

Breakers rising, cresting, swelling
Bear you towards a bone-strewn lair.
Portals open; warm, compelling
Variations: fleshtones . . . hair.

Your craft will wreck upon the rocks
Though you may live—and regret the ride,
Recalling ports and placid docks;
Oh mariner of the raging tide.

That music . . . let me hear some more!
It surges now behind the light,
Illuminating from the core
A vessel in descending night.

I talk the talk but cannot walk the walk;
My poetry falls in desert places
Failing to bring life to arid spaces;
Verse germinates to wither on the stalk.
I ought to use a better garden hose
And irrigate my plant with finest ale
My new poetic scheme could never fail,
And happy plants would spring from watered rows...
But dull esthetics scorch, and modernism
Reduces my dry plot to nihilism.
And now my muse must pay for all that beer
After she blasts my crop with lyric drought
My sonnet has been overrun, I fear
By weeds, and I forgot what it's about.