I regaled my land with thunderings of merriment          
lighting my dark chuckles with bright flash of wit,          
I tickled trees, seas, oceans, till my joke was spent          
then rested to gather strengths to blow my season's blitz.          
Now I blast you foul storms your puny ambitions befit,          
as I reign over you tempestuously  crack and clap          
your puny stone buildings I will blast and split          
and rend your clothes and silly flags to scraps, as they flap...          
        
I blame you, you blustering creatures, for downpouring of my ire          
you forever chasing seasons of ease,          
climbing up for the secret of eternal fire,        
to power your life and turn my gales to balmy breeze...    
How dare you make my clouds weep, with stormy seeds,          
I am the life spreading Storm, you cannot control,          
I view you shower as a damping turbulent disease          
but, it may be, you do have a role?          
        
I will blow you down to a gory smear          
across your burnt and blasted arid lands,          
till nothing remains not even a tear          
then scour you gone with my whirlwinding sands.        
Your poisoned flesh, not fit for Earth's viands,          
but your bones, your dry bleached bones        
will nourish my green and pleasant sphere,          
till then I shall weather your howling, squalid, moans.

My life stopped when my  Mother died  
but not so much when Pa past on,  
I tried to grieve I tried and tried  
my life stopped when my Mother died,  
  
I harmed myself I cried and cried  
how could you do this to me... gone?  
My life stopped when my Mother died  
but not so much when Pa past on...

Are you saying sorry now  
to all the folk inside your head,
for all the rotten stuff you did
but it's too late now, 'cause they be dead?

Sorry, sorry, to Moma
sorry, sorry, to Papa too,
saying sorry to that old neighbour  
for all the rottenness I did to you.

And the brother and the sister
god, I dare not go there,
and how the hate of self rises
up is almost too much to bear...

And when I am gone, gone far away
from all the rotten things I've said and done,
will folk say sorry to me in their heads
and will I hear, not even one?

What are you folks to him, you maga crowd,
you duped rioters, you duped stymied gop,
just a meal ticket, for crying out loud,

You, the soldier ants, right, right, beetle-browed
you desperate sad and blank-minded lot,
what are you folks to him, you maga crowd?

You, the grifted he leeched on, you, right cowed,
as long as you pay he cares not one jot,
just a meal ticket for crying out loud,

But sometimes Freudian truths ring out loud
"This Disgusting Sham Politician!! " what?
what, are you folks to him, you maga crowd,

Do you remember the deaths this thing allowed
" Stand back and stand by " at his riot,
what are you folks to him you maga crowd,

This creature will leech till you're in your shroud
Then finally over your grave will squat,
What are you folks to him, you maga crowd,
Just a meal ticket, for crying out loud.

Do not sigh waiting for the words to come
the soft words the weighty words and the hard,    
but take up your pen go and search for some,    
    
These rhymes are not hard, your brain is not numb,    
and by musing your work may well be marred,    
do not sigh waiting for the words to come,    
    
The words are there this is your mother's tongue
your brain it will not shatter into shards,    
but take up your pen go and search for some,    
    
Take your thoughts, weave and spin your song, till sung    
for there are no words from which you are barred    
do not sigh waiting for the words to come,    
    
A lazy pen will never get work done    
from idleness, you must be on your guard,    
but take up your pen, go and search for some    
    
Get out from under boredoms heavy thumb  
and if needs be invent words, like the bard,    
do not sigh waiting for the words to come  
but take up your pen go and search for some.