Ringing like a bell
Rolling in Hell
Sure was swell
You never could tell.

All along Route 66
Getting his kicks
Strumming and picks
Inventing the first licks.

Absolutely very
Completely necessary
Juicy like a cherry
Sweet as a Berry.

Down on your luck
Things sure can ****
Don't give a flying.....
Just listen to the man, Chuck.

They’ll be rockin’ in Heaven
Down St. Peter’s Gate Way.
Chuck Berry passed over,
But he still can play.

True King of Rock,
He’ll live for evermore.
And he’ll keep duck walking,
Along that golden shore.

His guitar keeps twanging,
Wah wah tlang tang tang.
Ya want a Showman?
Chuck’s still yer man.

He died at ninety.
It was very sad.
But now he’s up there,
I’m sure that God is glad.

He’ll love that Rock N Roll Music,
Chuck’s sense of humour too.
A touch of Devil also,
When he sings the blues.

So all you Saints and Angels,
You better move and hurry,
For they all want to dance with
That amazing Chuck Berry.

Paul Butters

Hail, Hail, ole Chuck Berry,
I'll write you an obituary,
Baby boomers not so merry,
Hail, Hail, ole Chuck Berry,
His rock'n'roll shall never die,
The legends rock on in the sky,
Now none of us are quite so merry,
Goodbye, bon chance, to ole Chuck Berry,
God speed, you made us all feel merry,
Hail, Hail, ole Chuck Berry....

CHUCK BERRY PASSES AWAY A TRUE
LEGEND OF HIS TIME
HE WAS A MUSIC TRAIL BLAZER
HIS PASSING AWAY IS A CRIME


HE WAS THE FOUNDATION OF ROCK AND ROLL
THE GOD FATHER OF RHYTHM AND BLUES
HIS MUSIC HIS MOVES HIS GUITAR
WAS ROCK AND ROLL THROUGH AND THROUGH


MANY A MUSIC LEGEND OF TODAY
WAS INFLUENCED WITH HIS STYLE
ROCK AND ROLL AND CHUCK BERRY
WILL BE WITH US FOR A WHILE

By Arcassin Burnham


Sweet embrace choosing like the holy Grail,
Let the rain fall , my soul is not for sale,
Not really fun when you burn in hell,
Demons talking to you like fresh meat in jail,
Citrus feeling minds with all things not from earth,
Drawn to a love no certain than a common worth,
Even since you been a mistake on the day of your birth,
Suicide is something you don't really wanna blurt,
Nearing to the end like do you see a vision?
It was pleasant all before , don't bring any tension,
Envisioning a utopia, when they buried ya,
Riding in a silver Toyota, in a frozen tundra,
If the kitchen knives don't drop,
Dreamt of this your whole life, now you can't stop,
Don't know how I missed this part of agony , it was a tragedy,
It's your face they'll crop,
Red doors open when you see the error of your ways dying like
Obese guy laughing at athletes,
It'll take you two whole lifetimes just to get under my skin and walk
Over me,
But you are below me , I'm more of a man than any ignorant demon would
Ever Portray,
The taste of these and the taste of those will leave me immortal,
I won't die today.

It’s a cruel old, desperate world.
Yes it’s a cruel old, desperate world.
Don’t often do the blues,
But you’ll know it when I do.

So hard to be a Reject,
Yes, so very hard.
So lonesome on your own.
You know where I’m going.

Those women do the choosing,
Yes Siree.
They sure do the choosing
And they ain’t picking me.

No passing on my DNA,
The line stops here.
No children will I produce,
Though I ain’t a queer.

Can I say that now?
In this PC world.
Probably not,
But my flag’s unfurled.

Well I warned you all.
These are my blues.
I’d much rather be writing
About some blue suede shoes.

Chuck Berry rocks
I have to say.
Like him I’d rather
Send you smiling
On your way.

These blues are haunting
And full of soul.
I’d rather be uplifting.
That’s my goal.

Paul Butters

Questionnaire**

How much poison are you willing
to eat for the success of the free
market and global trade? Please
name your preferred poisons.

For the sake of goodness, how much
evil are you willing to do?
Fill in the following blanks
with the names of your favorite
evils and acts of hatred.

What sacrifices are you prepared
to make for culture and civilization?
Please list the monuments, shrines,
and works of art you would
most willingly destroy

In the name of patriotism and
the flag, how much of our beloved
land are you willing to desecrate?
List in the following spaces
the mountains, rivers, towns, farms
you could most readily do without.

State briefly the ideas, ideals, or hopes,
the energy sources, the kinds of security;
for which you would **** a child.
Name, please, the children whom
you would be willing to ****.

Look It Over**

I leave behind even
my walking stick. My knife
is in my pocket, but that
I have forgot. I bring
no car, no cell phone,
no computer, no camera,
no CD player, no fax, no
TV, not even a book. I go
into the woods. I sit down on
a log provided at no cost.
It is the earth I've come to,
the earth itself, sadly
abused by the stupidity
only humans are capable of
but, as ever, itself. Free.
A bargain! Get it while it lasts!

The Wild Geese**

Horseback on Sunday morning,
harvest over, we taste persimmon
and wild grape, sharp sweet
of summer's end. In time's maze
over fall fields, we name names
that went west from here, names
that rest on graves. We open
a persimmon seed to find the tree
that stands in promise,
pale, in the seed's marrow.
Geese appear high over us,
pass, and the sky closes. Abandon,
as in love or sleep, holds
them to their way, clear,
in the ancient faith: what we need
is here. And we pray, not
for new earth or heaven, but to be
quiet in heart, and in eye
clear. *What we need is here.

THE PEACE OF WILD THINGS**

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
— Wendell Berry