Sumter, Gettysburg, Sherman's March,
Battles and fights, lives lost
Because of differences along the people.
Aren't people supposed to be different?

We, as a country, are not meant
To agree.
To belong in one room, repeating the same thing.
We will change the words.
Say them in a different order.
And men will die because of those words.
Those exact thought patterns.
Rights and laws are perceived
In different ways,
As well as morality.  

When it all began at Sumter, no one died.
It was a statement. A declaration of war.
At Gettysburg, it was a trick. A chilly,
Silly idea. And it was used to make
One of the greatest statements about war
Ever to leave someone's lips. Honoring
The dead and the living. The country and the people.
And the turning point of the fight between brothers.
Sherman's March was a move made by
The union as a mode of total war. Supply lines were cut and
Victory for the north was guaranteed.
Railroads were destroyed, towns were raided, and
Rebels were pushed east.
They had lost.

~one more for the r man~

almost Monday
and its weighty five day oppressive lead poisoning on the horizon,
is but a thirsty thirty six minutes away from its fortified Sumter, first shot to be fired at midnight, how we love to mark the commencement of hostilities and killing

but I am already wounded, a casualty of having spent evening with pleading, pleasing timer eating, reading of your work,
r

the sounds of inestimable admiration and infectious jealousy
make this old man eager to discard a lifetimes work and
begin fresh, but only as a copyist of you,
r

I know you’re thinking "what in the hell is he blubbering about?"

so I willingly will my confessional offering in the dark of the
holy bedroom; for you make me eat my words, and
spit them out as wastage, in dumbfounding humility

god you and yours, make me frail and blessed that I stumbled
upon your abbreviations of the human life,
r

shut up and accept my three r’s
reading ‘riting and rising
up to sing hymns of praise
for a man with a historical perspective and
whose few occasionals
are carved in the granite bench
of what makes my life
worthy of load bearing;

more than bearable,
all are soul-enlightened by
baring our humility, our admiration

11:24pm 4/15/18
nyc

Perilous voyages of small watercraft at sea , amphibious landings on well defended beachheads , Clipper ships whaling on distant oceans , military vessels in armed conflict , night of relentless cannon fire , explosive reflections across shark infested waters , treasure maps and chest laden with gold , rubies and pieces of eight , the cry of Viking warriors on the rugged coast of Newfoundland .. Pirates just off the shores of the Carolinas ..  Forts Pulaski , Sumter and Jefferson on the Dry Tortugas ..
Oil platforms racked by ferocious winds on the Gulf of Mexico ..
Union and Confederate battles on Mobile Bay , Riverboats traversing the Mississippi ..Tending barges along the Ohio ..On high alert through Georgia's intracoastal waterways ....

The year of Eighteen Sixty Five
Lincoln, shot and dead
The war was all but over
Destruction in it's stead
Blue and Grey divided
A nation great and strong
Was there ever a true winner?
So much of this was wrong
Brothers against brothers
Tearing families apart
It was a war with different issues
At Fort Sumter did it start
Slaves were not the forefront
When the war became a war
It was a war to stop secession
Then it became so much more
Johnny Reb comes marching home
Not the home that he once knew
It was now a state of new rebuilding
There was no more Grey, just Blue
Did it truly make the country
Unified under one flag?
Or did it become so much more splintered
Under a torn and tattered rag?
A President was murdered
But, the war, continued on
The ties that once did bind them
Were now just truly gone
The beauty of the country
Burned on Shermans' seaward trek
Left the Southern states demolished
And the plantations, just a wreck
The slaves were granted freedom
Through Emancipation at the end
But, in the south, it never happened
The landowners had to bend
Although the war was over
Slaves were free men after all
But, with nowhere left to go to
It was like a game without a ball
Many stayed and cropshared
Worked the same land as before
Now, they worked the land as freemen
Nothing less, and nothing more
Brothers still divided
Blue and Grey deep in their souls
Almost eight score years have passed
And the nation is still not whole
Grant and Lee at Appomatox
Ended the war and sent men on their way
But, it took days for the message to be heard and
Many more died in those days
Three Quarters of a Million
Lost their lives, in this young nation
One thing never altered
The place of a man's station
It split apart the country
Broke it down, to build anew
But, did it really matter
Now, with Johnny Reb in Blue?

The war began at Fort Sumter
It was launched by the greys not the blues
John Brown defended his actions
It was now the South's war to lose

Brothers were turned against brothers
The states were at war from that night
The country was clearly in trouble
And with one shot, did begin the fight

It's time to celebrate freedom
On a day eating hot dogs and pie
Towns decorated with bunting
As fire works light up the sky

In the summer of nineteen sixteen
On an island known here as "Black Tom"
Munitions reserved for the allies
Were sabotaged, bullet and bomb

The US now entered the World War
They were allies but not really allied
When another plant blew up in Kingsland
America, came in from the side

It's time to celebrate freedom
On a day eating hot dogs and pie
Towns decorated with bunting
As fire works light up the sky

The second world war was in progress
America was sitting it out
When Japanese planes bombed Pearl Harbour
They were at war, of this there was no doubt

Almost one half of a million
Americans died in that war
They died fighting for freedom
Just think, there could have been more

It's time to celebrate freedom
On a day eating hot dogs and pie
Towns decorated with bunting
As fire works light up the sky

Television brought war to the masses
A young soldier seen from Ojai
Interviewed leaving for battle
He was leaving, not hoping to die

Veterans came back to no fanfare
They weren't hero's, the war was not theirs
Back home, they now fought a new battle
Thrown away, where nobody cares

It's time to celebrate freedom
On a day eating hot dogs and pie
Towns decorated with bunting
As fire works light up the sky

The Gulf War began in the nineties
A war fought like none ever seen
Targets were sighted by missiles
Watched on monitors all lit up in green

And then came nine eleven
The war was now brought to our land
I support the soldiers for going to battle
And if you meet one, go shake his hand

It's time to celebrate freedom
On a day eating hot dogs and pie
Towns decorated with bunting
As fire works light up the sky

Freedom is something you fight for
It's something you celebrate too
Sons, Daughters and wives have laid down their lives
So we can all live like we do

It's time to celebrate freedom
On a day eating hot dogs and pie
Towns decorated with bunting
As fire works light up the sky

Boy is my *** fat

ten pancakes for breakfast, washed down with malted shake
by the end of first class, I was searching for some cake
wasn't paying attention, tripped over old black cat
had a hard time getting up, cause my *** is so fat

kids are staring at me, Walking through the halls
rumbeling thunder, stuff falling off the walls
a large dose of poundage, with my backwards baseball hat
trying to look so cool, but boy is my *** fat

saw Sally Sumter, on my way to advanced math 2
said I had an algorithm, I'd like to run by you
wanted to stick around a while, you know like maybe chat,
she said I really like you, but boy is your *** fat

tried to skip gym class, said I had no ****
did not know the numbers, to my combination lock
coach said that's no reason, I ain't buying that
one thing i will say though, boy is your *** fat

its the story of my life, all people pokin fun
ask me how much I weigh, do you way a ton
want to tell them *******, but they'd throw me on the mat
not very agile, cause my *** is so **** fat

Gomer Lepoet

A man was elected with no view on the most controversial issue.
Ignoramus within the southern states believed
This man to be a danger to their lifestyle and their
Wanted rights.
One by one, they became their own.

One fort, Sumter, became a commonplace for
Controversy. Belonging to the north, within the
Newly founded Confederate States, the fort was tossed back and forth in a game of table tennis.
A threat of war hovered above their heads, but supplies were sent.
No weapons.
No orders to attack.
Complete neutrality.

The attack came from an impatient general Beauregard,
Who ordered his men to open fire,
In a hope to force evacuation and surrender.

It worked. And all hell broke loose.

Standing in this drawing room,
eighteen foot ceilings,
Battery Street windows look out on Fort Sumter
still protecting Charleston's slave trade bay.
No rockect's red glare tonight,
but a musum cocktail party,
awed by the riches that slave trading
  did generate,
though the word "slave"
never came up.

Wilmer McLean had seen war in the flesh;
Near Bull Run he had purchased a farm.
When rebellion broke out, Stonewall Jackson came up
Causing Wilmer distress and alarm

So McLean sold his farm, moved his kin far from harm;
-kept them safe to the very last day.
Until Robert E. Lee and Ulysses S. Grant
chose his parlor for the end of the Fray.


From Fort Sumter’s surrender to Appomattox Court House
Through five Aprils, ****** war had held sway,
It began in his back yard, ended up in his parlor
From fate he could not get away.

We are surrounded by the lifeless
whether it's the corpses in red
or the horde of feeding undead
we don't see any niceness
in all the ways we have bled
so an idea pops in our head
to leech the likeness
of the zombies instead
of what's righteous.

A possum parades
around in the trash
it's called young and brash
by those it evades
through darkened paths
that harken back
to wild ways
we should've passed.

The possum pals with predators
to avoid the hunters
then those gun toting meddlers
have the gall to wonder
why they got themselves a runner
when everything is a red alert
then The Battle of Fort Sumter.

We track the terrified critter and stone it
a warning from a Kentucky poet:
when society is at its lowest
we'll pray for atonement
not for original sin
but being given a life to give
instead we fight with shivs
this how the lifeless live.

"I will be as harsh as truth, and as uncompromising as justice. On this subject, I do not wish to think, or to speak, or write, with moderation. I am in earnest — I will not equivocate — I will not excuse — I will not retreat a single inch — AND I WILL BE HEARD."

There's a storm brewing in the pit of my stomach
There's a war knocking at my door
But the thing is
I never open the door for strangers and I don't know if I'm going to start today
When I was young I loved the civil war
In my closet sits my great great great great great grandfather's musket
I read about Ironsides and cornfields matted down with the blood of hundreds of soldiers
In my mind I would fix bayonets at little round top
I would fill fort Sumter with hours of cannon fire
I could see the mural of John Brown
John Brown who I couldn't fully appreciate in my youth
John Brown the wild man who knew that slavery was a sin that would be payed in blood
There he stands between two armies and fires and tornadoes
A book in one hand and a rifle in another
And on the pages of the book simply printed is alpha and omega
Beginning and end
His story shall end where ours begins
While John Brown's body may be lying in that grave they were only able to **** the man
His truth is marching on in every struggle against oppression
In every fight against people who have the audacity to think they can own another
I don't think John Brown would ever be an anarchist
But regardless he was in the business of setting people free
Freedom is a word I still grapple with
I struggle on nights like these to try and imagine what it truly means
And maybe we are afraid of freedom and maybe we all die alone
But if that's the truth you won't hear me preach it
Because only truth I will fight for is well being for all
Food clothing and housing for all
All things for all people
And we shouldn't settle for less
And one day we will achieve it
But for now
The least we can do is be there for each other
I myself, will always be a loser
But that doesn't mean I'll never win
So tonight I'll dream of Ironsides and cannon fire
And I'll live my days standing up for a world that is made for the benefit of all
Because the truth is out there marching on
And with it we can build that perfect future

"Struggle so that all may live this rich, overflowing life. And be sure that in this struggle you will find a joy greater than anything else can give"