I had the unfortunate privilege of participating in a war
As an immediate life experience
This afforded me the luxury of indifference
While eliminating the sanguine notion of naiveté
Bravo 6 once told me - the only easy day was yesterday

Existing in a constant state of crisis justifies our history of violence
Collectively vindicates informed decisions to use lethal force without tolerance
License to search and destroy hostiles with extreme prejudice
Collateral damage merely an unfortunate expenditure of doing business

This is the merely the price of war
The cost is the bones and broken lives we leave behind as just-cause
When we are redeployed to kick down someone else’s door
Eventually in time, all these sins will follow us home
And war will make corpse of us all

You’ve got 99 problems but your loyalty is one,
you’ll never solve them now the World Cup is done.
Achieved by your colours that aren’t so true,
by a Nation that once treasured you.
Gretzky I believe your reign is through.

You used to shoot and inevitably you’d score,
imagine the disappointment of each Gord.
Keep the red and white but add the blue,
betray a Nation that once treasured you.
Gretzky; no longer number one not even two.

Keep your guns and keep your hate,
Canada’s not your fifty-first state.
We’ve always been a Country, one that’s great.

Went to a room and ignored the sign,
now we’ve changed the labels and removed your wine.
Disappointed in what you would do,
to a National that once treasured you.
The sadness and anger only grew.

An apology that will come too late,
Canada will never be your fifty-first state.
Not up for discussion or debate.

A concept you should understand,
you can’t put a “for sale” sign on our land.
The death of a legend came from the hands
of a bad man and a bad plan.
No longer the greatest of all time
after you’ve committed the greatest of crimes.

We won’t take the tariffs or the bait,
Canada will never be your fifty first state.
We’ll cement the actions and the date.

So stay in exile as is it your fate,
Canada won’t be your fifty first state,
cause it’s the one, the one that’s great.

Prologue

In the end, the bitter end, he who orders
the death and destruction of another nation
shall, himself, sleep the sleep of the vanquished.

I
Dead mouths of many dreams that sing and sigh
And call out feebly in the midst of night
Calling, fearsome as their bleak wanton cry
And frighting, as the unthinkable fright
Until  the dark of their plight passes by.

II
For, cold are the eyes that slumber in fear
And cold is the heart of the soul that sleeps
And sour is the taste of the sleeper's tear
And dire are the many secrets he keeps
For, wild is the scream that seeps in his ear.

III
The ruler of tracts o'er the eastern lands
Where red is the sky and black are the days
And burned are the souls the ruler commands
As flaming night comes and flaming night stays  
So, then a nation betrays at his hands.

IV
Nothing is priceless or free of its cost
And value is learned when payment is due
For, battles are won though, wars can be lost,
(Battles are many yet, victories few)
And dead mouths sound as a new dream is tossed.

Epilogue

Sleep heavy and sleep long as you are,
at last, held to account for your sins.
Payment shall be heavy and long
and shall last for eternity.

these days
looking around the globe
one might believe that we are traveling in time

just in the wrong direction

regression as progress
seems to be
the dominant notion of the day
creating wannabes in various disguises
     populist czars, sultans, nationalists, dictators,
     assorted self-appointed saviors
     of their peoples’ wealth and health,
trumpeting fences, walls, tough immigration laws,
etc., etc.  
to keep out and silence all those aliens
     or invade their countries
      and eliminate them

     who otherwise are welcome
     as our partners in the global trade
     that seems to dominate the world of greed

so we can all be ourselves

     whatever that might mean

claiming to solve the problems of tomorrow
     with memories of yesterday
is not only hopeless but quite dangerous

do you remember
what that glorified past
actually was?

Where have all the assassins gone,
I'm just asking,
Where have all the hit-men gone,
It wasn't long ago.
Where have all the psychos gone,
Ones like Sirhan Sirhan,
Or a crazy red Russian,
Lining crosshairs for Vlad Putin.

Where have all the agencies gone,
I'm just asking,
The MI5, the CIA,
KGB, Mossad;
Where have covert actions gone,
When there's guys like crazed Kim Jong;
Or a crazed Red Russian,
A narcissistic Vlad Putin.

Where have all our heroes gone,
I'm just asking;
Where have all our leaders gone,
Not so long ago.
Where have all fine Russians gone;
Boris was their last good one;
When will we ever learn,
Ego-maniacs can't govern.

Oh,

We forgot.

Again.

These strange fellows
Still record on videotape
Abroad an outdated
Insufficient spacecraft
The shape of
An interstellar bowling alley

By night they hunt for
New age wine
Radio waves
And a slew of hitchhikers

Some they greet
Some they cheat
Some they mistreat
Some they eat

Convenient store gangbusters
Crop circling has seen its better day
Soundtrack enthusiasts
They've a score to settle
With John Williams

They came from a fruitless world
In search of pomegranate skies
And the Big Apple
Even from the far flung
Reaches of space
Everyone's an actor

Some they unseat
Some they beat
Some they reheat
Some they eat

We're odd to them
Because they're gods to us
In a technologically challenged
Unidentified flying object

It's not war they want
Nor invasion
Just dinner theatre
And a reliable map