If you did, then you would
but you don’t, so you won’t,

to pretend otherwise
makes an *** out of you
and a corpse out of me

Let’s think
of the sunk cost fallacy
whereby
the sweat, tears and cash
you’ve ****** into your endeavours
means you never let go
of your burning ambition
so you beg borrow steal
to stave off the immutable truth
that you’re wrong

Then let’s think
that instead of a business
or crazy high jinks
you invested in the sense that
some humans outrank others
at birth
and hidden behind the privilege
of that thought you ignored
what was often in front of your face
or at your work place
or fatally jogging through your neighbourhood
til it shone straight in your eyes

and your beg steal borrowing
does nothing
because lies and filthy ideologies
can’t stand the light of day
so grasp as you will at
the pictures and voices of shills
who defend the grotesque
and try to mess up a people,
a nation,
with fat cat, fat handed,
fat tongued oppression
your fingers *****, but empty

The lesson:

it’s ok to be wrong

it’s ok to draw lines
under ugly pasts
so futures can be brighter,
you can apologise,
learn
and make right

I stand here today:
The mayor of this broken town;
The president you needed;
The one to lead us home.

Except today, you sit.
You do not feel joyous.
You do not believe.
You have fallen, clutching for dear life.

Tomorrow, I think, will be more.
Lustrous I am, at the thought:
Of my own words;
Of my own promises.

Give to you what I plan for me,
Giving back what I did not take.
Tomorrow, you will have more than today,
You will have more than you could ever dream.

Realism was never my strong point.
I stand here full of dreams.
I stand here with less than you need.
But I stand here.

Because yesterday was the worst of all.
Yesterday broke us.
Yesterday took a piece of us with it,
Took more than we can replace.

You sit quietly, teasing the words from my mouth.
It is you I stand here for.
Your soulless eyes waiting,
For me, for more.

Something is rotten,
but not in the state of Denmark
the body politic is sickening from the spread
as the virus flows and ebbs around us
but that’s not the biggest threat
to our collective, collected health

the insidious radiation that emanates
when certain men step out
from their lead-lined bunkers
is weakening our sinews,
loosening our hair and teeth
and mocking and braying at our grief

backed up as it is
by mustard gas clouds of lies
built on the bones of xenophobes and the afraid
some with excuses, or, whatever,
but most with puce, spittle-flecked faces
apoplectic at the creep-dawning realisation
of their impotent, way it’s always been ways

and like the Cnuts they clearly are
rather than retreat from the waves
and figure out more sensible ways to behave
as centuries progress
they will ‘make a stand’
thick, bitter filled pint-mug in hand
‘til the tide will see them drown

meanwhile on dry, rich land
the tin-*** Machiavellis
rub their hands and drive long away
to have their eyes tested,
divest themselves of kids,
or check on their second homes
as the bloated bodies bob out to sea
all too slowly

all sky up on the mighty
begging of your own boundaries
heady with the ego

you present leadership
insecure
in a blunt tottering charge

an unfastened distraction
fear dominated
  and flinging fear
   as a sense blunting weapon
  scattering the people
cleaving them confused
polarized and susceptible

the fairer *** she is
she is the cradle of humanity
she gives life and its entity
she gives meaning to beauty
graced and enthroned with integrity
she is but nobly planned to comfort
for the very life she gives she is the epitome
nobly planned to command she is "madam"
being a mother has love to the very quantum
she graces us with innocence
she graces us with her benevolence
she cares about our future with prudence
she calmly appreciates our skills with silence
to human life she is the smith
her integrity to the nation is strength
our first days of life in her  warmth
to our gone men and brothers she is seth
agent of national transformation with home setting
all our livelihood in her making
at the mother's knees education is leading
humans to what is good and a good ending
she  gives me command
she is a hero and a legend

Did you watch it, what a show
Little Mikey slammed around,
Battered slowly blow by blow
With accusations that astound.

Pocahontas on the war path,
She’s the one that wields the axe,
Indignation, poisoned wrath
Her solutions just more tax.

Crazy Bernie full of zeal
Flaring nostrils squinting eyes,
Somewhat bridled brought to heel,
Marxist fervor cut to size.

Sleepy Joe clearly not there
A hologram appearing in his place,
To his chances not a prayer
Slipping badly from the race

Mayor Pete, Amy who?
Going at it head to head,
Lots of insults, no breakthrough
Further progress all but dead.

So who won you might well ask
All who watched could that one see,
There's but one person for the task
And that person's clearly me.

STANDING ALONE

Standing alone is the only way
to gain a gathering. That’s the
paradox no one seems to under-
stand. If one wishes to be true to
all others, one must first be able
to stand alone. All great leaders
know this instinctively. One must
embrace one’s truth, then those
who are keen enough will sense
it ineluctably, and the many will
become one. Earth urgently needs
one to come forward with truth
so that billions of others can join
and all can become one. The courage
one needs is first to be able to stand
alone, not an easy thing to do, but
necessary. Be brave, be intransigent,
be yourself.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks

He had a well stocked mind,
but with little stock taking
and with little order,
and so with little hope of finding
just a little rationale
for what sounded a little like tripe.

if you don’t play
by their rules
you can’t lose
at their game