Who says Civil Rights is an easy battle?
Ask Congressmen John Lewis and C.T. Vivian they jumped immediately into the saddle
Their thoughts would be, “Redemption, Achieve, Believe and Victory”
This is what the two Civil Rights Moguls were challenged
It was call to action
Civil Rights fight until won
They achieved in the 50’s and 60’s
But their mission is continuous in us until done
Yet, the world is continuing in the separation fight among
The rise in the fist being unity power
It didn’t matter the hour
Congressmen John Lewis and Rev C.T. Vivian didn’t tire
Don’t let movement after movement expire
It certainly was no easy stepping
March on March on in Congressmen Lewis and Rev Vivian’s hearts
Step out in one accord
They were assured being guided by our Lord
Struggles then continuing now in 2020
But the banner reads, “Black Lives Matter”
However, let’s take that even further, “All Lives Matter”
The struggles then was separation, but today the world is shouting Unification
Bringing all races together as one
This is nonstop
Civil Rights won’t be done until all feet are on solid ground
Lift every voice and be heard
Utter Civil Rights can no longer continue to be a plight
That was Congressmen Lewis and Rev. C.T. Vivian shedding light
They wanted to open up the world’s minds
No matter what the cost, separation wasn’t sublime
It was a fight for justice and voices rang loud
Congressmen Lewis and Rev C.T. Vivian mission was an urgent purpose
Influence obvious
The world wondering in curious
But it didn’t matter, Congressmen Lewis and Rev C.T. Vivian were simply furious
Civil Rights was a responsibility and should be sustained by all
Congressmen Lewis and Rev C.T. Vivian were involved in the Freedom Riders
Today the Civil Rights warriors would say, “Don’t let us catch you with your Civil Rights involvement undone
It’s continuous until complete
It would be Police in opposition
March on in precision
It was extension of determined exercised rights
Congressmen Lewis and Rev Vivian didn’t take that light
They vision in plain sight
There are two Heaven Harlow’s being Heaven’s call
They conquered and saw
Now it is time for us to continue on the road to Civil Rights
Congressmen Lewis and Rev Vivian are our determination
We will be their representation
Lift every voice and join hands
Let us march together in the sunrise until sundown
Embrace in commitment
Visualize in achievement
Dignity and honor from legacy
Muster from struggle’s past to victories to be gained
Upward and onward
2020, we are the new voices
Lift every voice and chant, “Civil Rights the purpose, and Freedom becoming the enterprise”
March on my Sons and Daughters
Civil Rights won’t be won until Freedom and Liberty reign.

1.
From my
uneasy bed
at the L’Enfant,
a train's pensive
horn breaks the
sullen lullaby of
an HVAC’s hum;
interrupting the
mechanical
reverie of its
steadfast
night watch,
allowing my ear
to discern
the stampede
of marauding
corporate Visigoths
sacking the city.

The cacophony
of sloven gluttony,
the ***** songs of
unrequited privilege
and the unencumbered
clatter of radical
entitlement echoes
off the city’s cold
crumbling stones.

The unctuous
bellows of the
victorious pillagers
profanely feasting
pierces the
hanging chill
of the nations
black night.

Their hoots
deride the train
transporting
the defeated
ghosts of
Lincoln’s last
doomed regiments
dispatched in vain
to preserve a
peoples republic
in a futile last stand.

The rebels have
finally turned the tide,
T Boone Pickett’s
Charge succeeds,
sending the ravaged
Grand Army of the
Republic sliding
back to the Capitol,
in savage servility,
gliding on squeaky
ungreased wheels
ferrying the
Union’s dead
vanquished
defenders to
unmarked graves
on Potters Field.

The Rebels
joyous yell
bounces off
the inert granite
stones of the
soulless city.

The spittle
of salivating
vandals drips
over the
spoils of war
as they initiate the
disassemblage,
the leveling and
reapportionment
of the grand prize.

The clever
oligarchs
have laid claim
to a righteous
reparation
of the peoples
assets for
pennies on the
dollar.

Their wholly
bought politicos
move to transfer
distressed assets
into their just
stewardship
through the
holy justice
of privatization
and the sound
rationale of
free market
solutions.

In the land of the
pursuit of property,
nimble wolf PACs
of swift 527, LLCs
have fully
metastasized
into personhood;
ascending to
the top of the
food chain in
America’s
voracious
political culture;
bestriding
the nation to
compel the
national will
to genuflect
to the cool facility
of corporate
dominion.

As the
inertial ******
of the plaintive
locomotive
fades into
another old
morning of
recalcitrant
Reaganism,
it lugs its
ambivalent
middle class
baggage toward
it’s fast expiring
future.

I follow
the dirge
down to
the street
as the ebbing
sound fades
into the gloom
of the
burgeoning
morning,
slowly
replacing the
purple twilight
with a breaking
day of cold gray
clouds framing
silhouettes of
cranes busily
constructing
a new city.

The personhood of
corporations need
homes in our new
republic; carving
out new
neighborhoods
suitable for the
monied citizens
of our nation.

First amongst
equals, the best
corporate governance
charters form
the foundation of
the republic’s
new constitution.
Civil rights
are secondary
to the freedom
of markets; the
Bill of Rights
are economically
replaced by the
cool manifests
of Bills of Lading.

The agents of
laissez faire
capitalism
nibble away
at the city’s
neighborhoods
one block at a time;
while steady winds
blows dust off
the National Mall.

Layers of the
peoples plaza are
plained away with
each rising gust.  

History repeats
itself as the Joad’s
are routed from their
land once again.

A clever
mixed use
plan of
condos and
strip malls
is proposed
to finally help the
National Mall
unlock its true
profit potential.

As America’s
affection for
federalism fades
the water in
the reflection pool
is gracefully drained.

We the people
can no longer
see ourselves.

The profit
potential of
industry is
preferred over
the specious
metaphysical
benefits
of reflection.

The grand image,
the rich pastiche,
the quixotic aroma
of the national
melting ***
is reduced to the
sameness of the
black tar that lines
the pool and the
swirling eddies of
brown dust circling
the cracked indenture.

From his not so
distant vantage point,
Abe ponders the
empty pool wondering
if the cost of lives
paid was a worthy
endeavor of preserving
the ****** union?  
Has the dear prize
won perished from
this earth?

Was the illusive
article of liberty  
worth its weight in
the blood expended?

Did the people ever
fully realize the value
of government
by the people,
for the people?

Did citizens of
the republic
assume the
responsibilities to
protect and honor
the rights and privileges
of a representative
government?

Now our idea
and practice of
civil rights is measured
and promoted as far as
it can be justified by
a corporate ROI, a
shareholder dividend,
an earmark or a political
donation to a senators
unconnected PAC.

The divine celestial
ledgers balancing
the rights and
privilege of free people
drips with red ink.  

Liberty, equality
fraternity are bankrupt
secular notions
condemned as
expensive
liberal seditions;
hatched by
UnHoly Jacobins,
the atheist skeptics
during the dark times
of the Age of Enlightenment.

Abe ponders
the restoration
of Washington’s
obelisk, to
repair the cracks
suffered  from
last summer’s
freak earthquake.

I believe I detect
a tear in Abe’s
granite eye
saddened by the
corporate temblors
shaking the
foundations
of the city.

2.

The WWII Memorial
is America’s Parthenon
for a country's love
affair with the valor
and sacrifice of warfare.

WWII forms the
cornerstone of
understanding the
pathos of the
American Century.

During WWII
our greatest generation
rose as a nation to
defeat the menace of
global fascism and
indelibly mark the
power and virtue of
American democracy.

As Lincoln’s Army
saved federalism, FDR’s
Army kept the world safe
for democracy.

Both armies served
a nation that shared
the sacrifice and
burden of war to
preserve the grace of
a republican democracy.

Today federalism
crumbles as our
democracy withers.

The burden
of war is reserved
for a precious few
individuals while
its benefits
remain confined to
the corporate elite.

Our monuments
to war have become
commercial backdrops
for the hollow patriotism
of war profiteers.

We have mortgaged
our future to pay
for two criminal wars.

The spoils of
war flow into the
pockets of
corporate
shareholders
deeply invested
in the continuation
of pointless,
destructive
hostilities.

Our service
members who
selflessly served
their country come
home to a less free,
fear struck nation;
where economic
security and political
liberty erodes
each day while the
monied interests
continue to bless
the abundance
of freedom and riches
purchased with the
blood and sweat
of others.

America desperately
needs a new narrative.

The spirit of the
Greatest Generation
who sacrificed and met
the challenge of the 20th
Century must become
this generations spiritual
forebears.

The war on terror
neatly fits the
the corporate
pathos of
militarism,
surveillance
and the sacrifice
of civil liberties
to purchase
a daily measure
of fear and
economic
enslavement.

It must be rejected
by a people committed
to building secular
temples to pursue
peace, democracy,
economic empowerment,
civil liberties and tolerance
for all.

Yet this old city
and the democratic
temples it built
exulting a free people
anointed with the
grace of liberty
is being consumed
in a morass of
commercial
polyglot.

3.

During the
War of 1812
the British Army
burned the
Capitol Building
and the White House
to the ground.

Thank goodness
Dolly Madison saved
what she could.

The new marauders
are not subject to the
pull of nostalgia.  

They value nothing
save their
self enrichment.

They will spare nothing.

Our besieged Capitol
requires Lincoln’s troops
to be stationed along the
National Mall to defend
the republic.

The greatest peril
to our nation
is being directed
by well placed
Fifth Columnists.

From the safety
of underground bunkers,
in secure undisclosed
locations within the city’s
parameters, a well financed
confederacy employing  
K Street shenanigans
are busy selling off
the American Dream
one ear mark
at a time, one
huge corporate
welfare allotment
at a time.

The biggest prize
is looting the real
property of the people;
selling Utah,
auctioning off
the public schools,
water systems, post offices
and mineral rights
on the cheap
at an Uncle Sam
garage sale.  

The capitol is
indeed burning
again.

Looters are
running riot.

The flailing arms
of a dying empire
fire off cruise
missiles and drone
strikes; hitting the
target of habeas
corpus as it
shakes in its
final death rattle.
I make a pilgrimage
to the MLK Jr.
Monument.

Our cultural identity
is outsourced to
foreign contractors
paid to reinterpret
the American Dream
through the eyes
of a lowest bidder.

MLK has lost
his humanity.

He has been
reduced to a
a Chinese
superhuman
Mao like anime
busting loose from
a granite mountain while
geopolitical irony
compels him to watch
Tommy Jefferson
**** Sally Hemings
from across the tidal
basin for all eternity.  

MLK’s eyes fixed in
stern fascination,
forever enthralled
by the contradictions
of liberty and its
democratic excesses
of love in the willows
on golden pond.

Circling back to
Father Abraham’s
Monument,  I huddle
with a group of global
citizens listening
to an NPS Ranger
spinning four score
tales with the last full
measure of her devotion.

I look up into Abe’s
stone eyes as he
surveys platoons
of gray suited
Chinese Communist
envoys engaged
in Long Marches
through the National Mall;
dutifully encircling cabinet
buildings and recruiting
Tea Party congressmen
into their open party cells.

This confederacy
is ready to torch
the White House
again.

Congressmen and
the perfect patriots
from K Street slavishly
pull their paymasters
in gilded rickshaws to
golf outings at the Pentagon
and park at the preferred
spots reserved for
the luxury box holders
at Redskin Games.

They vow not to rest
until the house of the people
is fully mortgaged to the
People’s Republic of China’s
Sovereign Wealth Fund.

4.

A great
Son of Liberty like
Alan Greenspan
roundly rings
the bells of
free markets
as he inches
T Bill rates
forward a few
basis points
at a time; while
his dead mentor
Ayn Rand
lifts Paul Ryan
to her
Fountainhead teet.
He takes a long
draw as she
coos songs
from her primer
of Atlas Shrugged
Mother Goose tales
into his silky ears.

The construction
cranes swing
to the music
building new private
sector space with
the largess of
US taxpayers
money; or
more rightly
future generations
taxpayer debt.

Libertarians,
Tea Baggers, Blue Dogs
and GOP waterboys
eagerly light a
match to the
the crucifixes
bearing federal
social safety
net programs
to the delight
of NASDAQ
listed capitalists
on the come,
licking their chops
to land contracts
to administer
these programs
at a negotiated
cost plus
profit margin.

Citizens
dependent
on programs
are leery
shareholders
are ecstatic.

To be sure
our free
market rebels
don disguises
of red, white
and blue robes
but their objectives
fail to distinguish
their motives and
methods with
some of the finest
Klansman this
country has
ever produced.

5.

DC is a city
of joggers
and choppers.

Corporate
helicopters
wizz by the
Washington
Monument,
popping erections
for the erectors
inspecting the progress
of the cranes
commanding the
city skyline.

USMC drill team
out for a morning
run circles the Mall.

The commanding
cadence of the
DI keeps us
mindful of the
deepening
militarization of
our society.

A crowd  
rushes
to position
themselves,
genuflecting
to photograph
a platoon on
the move.

I try to consider
the defining
characteristics of
Washington DC.

DC is all surface.

It is full of walls
and mirrors.

Its primary hue
is obfuscation.

Open
communication
scripted from well
considered talking points
informs all dialog.

The city is thoroughly
enraptured in narcissism.

Thankfully, one can
always capture the
reflection of oneself in
the ubiquitous presence of
mirrors.  

Vanity imprisons
the city inhabitants.

Young joggers circle the
Mall and gerrymander
down every pathway
of the city.  

They are the clerks,
interns and staffers of
the judicial, executive
and legislative branches.

They are the children
of privilege.

They will never
alter their path.

You must cede the walk
to their entitlement
of a swift comportment
or risk injury of a
violent collision.

These young ones
portray a countenance  
of benevolent rulers.  

They seem to be learning
their trade craft well from
the senators and judges
whom they serve.

They appear confident
they know what's best
for the country and after
their one term of tireless
service to the republic
they look forward to
positions in the private
sector where they will
assist corporations
to extend their reach
into the pant pockets
worn by the body politic.

6.

Our nations mythic story
lies hidden deep in the
closed rooms of the
museums lining the
Mall.

I pause to consider
what a great nation
and its great people
once aspired to.

I spy the a
suspended
Space Shuttle
hanging in dry dock
at the air and
space museum.

Today America’s
astronauts hitch
rides on Russian
rockets.

America rents a
timeshare from
the European
space agency to
lift communication
satellites into orbit.

Across the Mall
I photograph
John Smithson’s
ashes in its columbarium.  

I fear it has become a
metaphor for America’s
future commitment
to scientific inquiry
and rational secular
thinking.

I am relieved to
discover a Smithsonian
exhibit that asks
“what does it mean
to be human?”

The Origins of Humans
exhibit carries a disclaimer
to satisfy creationists.

The exhibit timidly states
that science can coexist
with religious beliefs and
that the point of the exhibit is
not to inflame inflame religious
passions but to shed light on
scientific inquiry.

I imagine these exhibits
will inflame the passion of
the fundamentalist
American Taliban and
provide yet another
reason to dismantle
the Moloch of Federalism.

The pursuit of science
remains safe at the
Smithsonian for now.

7.

Near K Street at
McPherson Park
a posse of
well dressed
lobbyists, the
self anointed
uber patriots
doing the work
of the people
stroll through
the park
boasting a
healthy population
of bedraggled
homeless.

The homeless
occupy the benches
that have been
transformed into
pup tents.

Perhaps some of
the residents of this
mean estate were
made homeless by a
foreclosed mortgage.  

The K Street warriors
can be proud that their
work on behalf of the
banking industry has
forestalled financial market
reform.  

Through it exacerbates
the homeless problem it has
allowed these K Street titans to
profit from the distress of others.

Earlier in the day
I photographed
a homeless man
planted in front of
the Washington
Monument.

I wonder
if my political
voyeurism is
an exploitation of
this man’s condition?

I have more in common
then I probably wish to
admit with my K Street
antagonists.  

In another section
of the park the
remnants of a
distressed OWS
bivouac remain.

The legions of sunshine
patriots have melted away
as the interest of the
blogosphere has waned.

As the weather
improves Moveon.org
and democratic
party operatives
pitch tents in an
effort to resuscitate
the moribund
movement.

They hope
to coop any
remaining energy
to support their
stale deception,
a neoliberal vision
based solely on the
total capitulation
to the bankrupt
corporatocracy.

I heard someone say
a campaign lasts a
season; while a
movement for social
change takes decades.

If that metric proves
correct, and if the
powers don’t succeed
in compromising the
people’s movement
I’ll be three quarters
of a century old
before I see
justice flowing like
a river once again.

8.

I circle back to
the L’Enfant and
find myself
tramping amidst
the lost platoon
of Korean War
soldiers.

My feet drag
in the quagmire
of grass covering
the feet of this
ghostly troop.

My namesake
uncle was a
decorated
veteran of this
conflict and Im
sure I detect
his likeness
in one of the
statues.

The bleak call
of a distant train
sounds a revelry
and I imagine this
patrol springing
to life to answer
the call of their
beloved country
once again.

Yet they remain
inert.  

Stuck in a
place that the
nation finds
impossible to
leave.

The eyes of the
men stare into
an incomprehensible
fate.  

They see the swarms
of Red Army infantrymen
crossing the Yellow River
streaming toward
them in massive
human waves,
the tips of
sparkling bayonets
threatening to slash
the outmanned
contingent fighting
to bits.

They are the
first detachment
to bravely confront
the rising power
of China many
thousands of
miles away
from their homes.

America like
this lone company
is overwhelmed
and lost in the
confusion
that confronts
them.

Looking up
I perceive the
bewilderment
of my muddled image
reflected on the
marble walls
surrounding
the memorial.

I am a comrade-in-arms,
a fellow wanderer sojourning
with th

When you don’t have to see
When it’s just a tv screen
Muted voices scream
But you can’t hear a thing

When you’re not on the ground
To feel the fear or hear the sounds
Then it’s easier to look away
It gets easier to stand and say
That waging war is okay

But when it’s your blood
Or the blood of those you love
When the price you pay is personal
Then the decisions are made more carefully

Too bad politicians and rich men
Don’t have to send their sons and daughters
Off to war to face an almost certain slaughter

Maybe if the generals and congressmen
The admirals and the president
Had to stand in the thick of it
I might trust their judgment

U.S. Congressmen
getting caught
with their pants
down

What a classic answer, yes, just dodge that bullet
All that we expect of you is refined to planned-out prattle.
Expertly reiterate, “No, no, that’s not my speciality!”
Do your values enter in or do you play by the rules?
Tell me, please, what are the rules when you construct them as you go
and
What are your priorities?
Shall you stand for your beliefs?
—what do you believe in—
Tell us?
… I bet you don’t have responses.
Spit your lies; set your agenda.
They’ll all swoon for “eloquence”
Some of us see through façades
while still others stand in awe
—we’re not fooled by shrouds of gauze—
I don’t like you; unimpressed.
But it really doesn’t matter:

the stage is set
the dice are rolled
the drinks are poured
the blood is spilled

and you’re laughing all the way.

Congressmen, police and ministers
All can be particularly sinister
When they take it upon themselves
To think of us as shoemakers elves
Fairytale beings who then madly
Exist only to work for them gladly;
Drudges to work for them out of sight,
Creatures that give in without a fight.

A sense of privilege causes this.
As fate is always rather hit and miss
It’s not granted by common sense,
More like a caprice of something dense;
A dark deity that is impressed by wealth
Without regard to someone’s right or health.
And the scary people the malady infests
Seems unaware of the evil it ingests.

Limelight and spotlights are the energy
That often drives their ***** perfidy.
But just as often, these fools don’t care
Who knows of their arts, no need to share.
They while away at greed and perdition
And certainly need anybody’s permission.
They only live to gobble and acquire
And never need anyone call them ‘sire’.

The most frightful of these lustful ones
Are those who ply their will with guns.
They decide the good from enemies
And few seem good to these entities.
They only plot their murderous plans
Without regard to the rights of man.
If you get in their way, you are foe.
That is as far as their thinking goes.

For that is the point here, after all.
These creatures ignore propriety’s call.
And the same with society, it is true.
Those needs, for them, will not do.
They work sorcery behind the scenes
And create acts that are truly obscene.
It matters not what is wrong or right
They are ever-vigilant, day and night.

What’s going on at Capitol Hill
The House and Senate have Bills to fulfill
GOP and Democrats must connect with will
Voting Rights is nothing that should be passed over
The Constitution was a discovery giving us that right
The American People and Capitol Hill shouldn’t take it light
The late Congressmen John Lewis was a true fighter on Capitol Hill for Voting Rights
He was the voice that had might
We can’t go backwards into time
Yet we can reflect
Voting Rights can’t be a reject
Voting Rights Bill gives the American People assurance having an effect
We can’t let the GOP turn America into a Dictatorship
We are not Russia nor China in Communism
The Constitution clearly states, ‘WE THE PEOPLE”
That identifies all people of creeds
Capitol Hill must think with understanding
Voting Rights Bills must be solid in sustaining
Tomorrow could very well be a finale of permanent sundown
Suppression having the shine
Capitol Hill must show genuine
This makes passing Voting Rights so important
House and Senate, “I ask that you do what is right”
Sign Bills in plain sight
Unite with no plight
The American People are depending on you
PURSUIE

You smell like ******* and butterflies
You taste like brownies and knives
You feel like boys broad backs and oil spills
You look like ******* and cherry soda
You sound like congressmen and French women
You are a chemical impossibility

Who are you.

If given a choice.
Would I rather be Mickey Mouse or Donald Duck?
One, who's squeaky?
Or the one that speaks gibberish?
But sounds like he's cursing you out.
I have to think about that.

If given  a choice.
Would I rather be Batman or Superman?
One, that clever.
Or the one that's brave?
Always looking out to save the day.
Sounds like a Mighty Mouse phase.

If given a choice.
Would I like to be president?
Or one of those insane Congressmen?
Well, both say and do things according to their will.
Proving they not representing any of us.

If given a choice.
What would I rather be?
Would I rather be you?
Or simply be me.

It don't take a genius to know.
That by staying inside myself.
I chose to be myself.
Cause I don't need the problems of anyone else.

Death metal
This Valentines Day
Mass shootings and
Congressmen pray

This Valentines Day
This Valentines Day

Trump says he’ll pray
This Valentines Day
Does he know the words
Can he read them?

This Valentines Day
This Valentines Day

Way-Out Willie
On the stage now
Hand jiving us
This Valentines Day

This Valentines Day
This Valentines Day

Copyright © 2018 by Zane Safrit. All rights reserved.

See the Nigra boy statue
On a White front lawn
It is all that is left now
The Old South is gone.
It’s beloved in those towns
With proper church steeples
From the good old days
When people owned people.

It is a symbol of when
Blacks stayed in at night
And all public offices
Were held by the Whites.
When all human rights
Applied to only Caucasians,
And not to Blacks, Hispanics,
American Indians or Asians.

Those were the days when
It was easy to quickly see
Which were the good people
And which ones were guilty.
In those much better times
We didn’t stoop to harrangue them.
If they shot off their mouths
We would  simply hang them.

Two hundred years of tradition
Was rudely taken away
No matter how we fought it
No matter what we had to say.
Those were the best times
And we liked it that way.
And our friendly Congressmen
Should make that way today.

The little Lawn Jockey remains
Almost by himself to carry on
Now that the massas and mistresses
In the Sainted South are gone.
He signifies a better time
Like Stephen Foster songs:
We never found owning darkies
So very evil or all that wrong.

I wanna witness...

The energetic synergy within the city limits
Pulsing with adrenaline as yesmen do business
With mysterious gentlemen in worn and weathered tenements
Indifferent of the minutemen surrounding the premises.

A genesis and exodus of textbook corruption
Eruptions of Congressmen abruptly interrupting
The voice of the denizens; citizens distrusting
The integrity of every legislation made in history

And the mystery surrounding all those slimy politicians
Discussing their envisionments and policies like madmen
Disgusting in their ways, protecting church and state,
In the government we pray: Amen.

Come gather ’round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You’ll be drenched to the bone
If your time to you is worth savin’
Then you better start swimmin’ or you’ll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin’

Come writers and critics
Who prophesize with your pen
And keep your eyes wide
The chance won’t come again
And don’t speak too soon
For the wheel’s still in spin
And there’s no tellin’ who that it’s namin’
For the loser now will be later to win
For the times they are a-changin’

Come senators, congressmen
Please heed the call
Don’t stand in the doorway
Don’t block up the hall
For he that gets hurt
Will be he who has stalled
There’s a battle outside and it is ragin’
It’ll soon shake your windows and rattle your walls
For the times they are a-changin’

Come mothers and fathers
Throughout the land
And don’t criticize
What you can’t understand
Your sons and your daughters
Are beyond your command
Your old road is rapidly agin’
Please get out of the new one if you can’t lend your hand
For the times they are a-changin’

The line it is drawn
The curse it is cast
The slow one now
Will later be fast
As the present now
Will later be past
The order is rapidly fadin’
And the first one now will later be last
For the times they are a-changin’

Lie cheat and steal
Fascism is totally real
What deals are they cooking
When none of us is looking?
**** **** and destroy
The fascist version of joy.
Buy a few ****** congressmen
Start the whole thing over again.

Washington DC is always run
By sellouts and crooks, every one.
It you want things to not be the same
Do something about changing the game.
Find out where your representatives
Go to play, to bank and live,
If they seem to be able to walk
Totally different than they talk.

Keep the waters murky and hazy
Because the voters are so lazy.
Tell a bunch of lies on TV
Nobody cares about reality.
They think celebrity shows
Are the way life really goes.
That is, of course, because
Nobody notices the cameras.

Washington DC is always run
By sellouts and crooks, every one.
It you want things to not be the same
Do something about changing the game.
Find out where your representatives
Go to play, to bank and live,
If they seem to be able to walk
Totally different than they talk.

Washington DC is always run
By sellouts and crooks, every one.
It you want things to not be the same
Do something about changing the game.
Find out where your representatives
Go to play, to bank and live,
If they seem to be able to walk
Totally different than they talk.

An important thing for us to remember
Is to act like Christmas beyond December.
Peace on earth, and good will to men
Should need a certain date to begin.
It should be going on all the time.
The same with theft and other crime.
Our virtue as a nation will come up short
If all we care about is our favorite sport.

The light is not a threat
it's a dare,
and every second you're behind the yellow line
the more there is at stake.

It's like wearing a seat belt
and closing your eyes
allowing tire to connect to yellow line
that leads to the sky,
if you're lucky.

Taking a cat nap in a coffin,
unconcerned yellow eyes of your past life
opening to the sight of
your own exorcism.

Changing stop lights
manipulate the colors
behind your stained glass pseudo christ,
highlighting the features every yellow-belly loves best.

Girls standing on street corners
******* themselves out for their yellow haired congressmen,
only to satisfy their oral fixation
on the more handsome opponent.

Passing the **** to the next contestant,
sadistically watching
as they choke,
mimicking the yellow glow of the sun.

The manila folder
that stores your secrets.
Yellow nails dig into skin
knowing you will never be forgiven.

Lift up your eyes and see
You are correct to deeply fear.
Worse than all history
It’s gonna be a bad year.

The GOP has changed DC,
Now it stands for Demented Congressmen.
Federal Secretaries can barely spell!
It will take decades to fix this again.

Hide in your house and pray
Ignoring all the threatening signs.
Pay no attention to the news,
Everything will turn out just fine.

Who needs their civil rights?
Just pay your taxes and be quiet.
No one in Washington
Hears your opinion, they don’t buy it.

The whole show is bribes, so
If you’re a multi billionaire
And pay the right people,
Some one in Congress will care.

Remember the actual rules,
The important thing in politics
Is  stay in office for life
Even if they have to use tricks.

Being a statesman today
Doesn’t mean a thing any more
Because the voters
Don’t really care to keep score.

They raise lots of handy cash
And buy the most successful publicist
Then they have the people
Crushed in their grubby little fists.

your thoughts and prayers ****
highly ineffective,
bluntly,
they are defective
ain’t rendering no mo’ to god
and his good old timey thing,
righteous slaughtering of the innocents,
such fun for what does He care

what we got to do is do
something about on it earth,
time has come up,
the hurricane has begun,
and world is shaking from the movements in our bones,
for now is the hour
when we sail to the shore,
and until we are done,
the sun will not respect our faces

accept this introspective invective,
politely keep them guttural BS noises to yourself,
you know who’s the guilty ones,
that would be me and you

write to the congressmen,
who have been shot,
asking what ya got, forever protection,
the crazies know where you live,
state senators from places they don’t you represent,
all that we adjudged them lazy guilty, guilty of laziness,
and don’t forget to add a p.s.

we adjudge ourselves guilty as well,
too many knew in advance, the dangerous ones, who were
lurking, them waiting, us in desperation hoping,
it wouldn’t be happening then delaying one more time
all over again

”Oh the foes will rise
With the sleep in their eyes
And they'll **** from their beds and think they're dreamin'
But they'll pinch themselves and squeal
And know that it's for real
The hour that the ship comes in.

Then they'll raise their hands
Sayin' we'll meet all your demands
But we'll shout from the bow your days are numbered
And like Pharaoh's tribe
They'll be drownded in the tide
And like Goliath, they'll be conquered.” (Bob Dylan)

8/4/19 12:10
there is no shelter anywhere from madness for the madness
is ours, inside, and we have learnt to live with it’s reoccurring.
Why?

Congressmen John Lewis, remembrance from his soul
The torch shines
A reflection of Congressmen John Lewis walks in the spirit
My Brothers and my Sisters
He achieved for all minority races
It wasn’t about being Black, White, Green nor purple
It was the standard of Freedom for all
His stance was on the fight to make Freedom and Voting right
Beaten and tore full of scars
But that didn’t stop Congressmen John Lewis for being determined to go far
His journey carried him across the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Alabama
While others wondered and showed fear
He knew God was always near
He would say today, “Don’t praise me, but stand with me”
Mobilize and visualize seeing the prize
Your surprise will become a realize
A page from Former President Barack Obama, “Yes we can and Shall”
The shall being assurance
Congressmen John Lewis influence
Continued efforts in endurance
Stand up for the fight
God has given you the might
Be inspired my Brothers and Sisters
Victory sounds like a long way
But that is ok
The mission is too come together as a multitude of voices
You got the agenda, and it is the blueprint to succeed
But let your movement in forward proceed
We will chant these very words, “Achieved at Last Achieved at Last
It will be a long time coming
But we must be consistence and not be resistant
We can achieve together
Stand Up and be associated
Victory will be our story
Our efforts will form appreciated
Once again, be encouraged my Brothers and Sisters
Fight until won
Never surrender and be outdone
It’s a new day, tomorrow even better
Fight, be precise and let your voice rang out
Be ready, steady and assemble
It is just that simple
Achieve, Accomplish and Excel
Victory will come, but just wait until.

one

When it comes to selling a pure soul to Devils
There are basically three good-looking levels

What we ought to be analyzing first
Known as quenchless material thirst

This is where you start being flirty
With anything iniquitous and/or *****

Seeing property, ranks or things as somewhat valuable
Precisely what makes you weaker and more fallible

Watch out! Once you’re out of your humble abode
It’s tough to come back from that tempting road

Still a rather innocent level to be at
Heads up! You don’t know what it might beget

Fly is not little anymore, if it’s in the ointment
Not worth it to dishonor your biggest commitment

Being a human, that is. As the day you were born
Ponder on it for a sec! Before you scorn

Evidently at this stage, the relation with money
Is like of a baby bear and a jar of honey

Little by little minds became ravished
Easy come, easy go; lots were lavished

Enough number of bad deeds to practice
Sure elevated you higher than apprentice

You’re already accustomed to being unfair
Before you know it, you’ll forget how to spare

As time passes by, you’re at the very threshold
Of Daemon’s pawn shop, where dignities are bought and sold

Please stop acting like you don’t have a clue
We all know this didn’t come out of the blue

Deliberately avoided to get a rain check on this
It’s nobody’s fault now, you chose going amiss

two

Congrats! You graduated from dirt to sewer
Competitors around here are a lot fewer

You’re already a guard dog, since you passed the test
Masters give you orders now, go ahead and try your best

Good news, the payoffs are way bigger
Can you dig it? You sneaky, cheeky digger

Including but not limited to bribing
Cutting in lines, cheating, lies or bid rigging

Then come rip-offs, swindles and deceits
A whole lot of rotten bucks with no receipts

Agreements, clients, customers are out there
Simply for the sake of your modest ******* share

Don’t get carried away, we focus on the vicious
Deals of the bad guys who are too ambitious

To go for the sinless mass, trick them for wealth
Playing with the good-old education and health

Any clean trade with sweat and decency
Is not the subject here, except positive recency

What do I mean by that? Positive stays in the mind
A little good news every day, to keep the crowds blind

Anyway, where were we? Let’s just keep proceeding
To describe to folks what the hell’s really happening

Style counts, huh? All ties and jackets
While squirrelling away the fortune in buckets

It’s legit, it’s shapely. It’s not artifice.
Make no mistake. Around here, we call it business

Regardless of whose, walked away with all you could
At the end of the day, you’re not ******* Robin Hood

How fascinating, virtually as good as it gets
Go Figure. The last step, where the Evil One besets

  three

You’re at the third and last phase already
His highness the Satan is now your sugar daddy

Civil rights, law, ethics, and much more to violate
The higher you climb, the more to annihilate

Get ready straight to make millions suffer
From that armored zone of yours, you call buffer

Having children work for real late hours
Well, it’s their children, right? Not ours!

Going for the pension plans of the most innocent
Is merely a prize to you. Almost magnificent

Causing conflicts to sell even more weapons
What’re you gonna do man? **** just happens!

Resolutions, legality, votes and members
Are tools to Lucifer. But who remembers?

Vietnam, Africa and all the Middle East
Where you have real wars to feed your beast

Journalists, congressmen, soldiers or presidents
Are on the payroll of this firm, a bunch of happy residents

As you step up, one day you will realize
Almost all the wealth belongs to you and your allies

But that won’t stop you from chasing your goals
Remember, Beelzebub already bought your souls

I can’t help but wonder, why people are so stupid
Distorted religion maybe or TV makes them this torpid

Better this way anyway, because if they wake
You’ll have to **** ’em all to keep your dear stake

Once you’re registered in this ****** parade
You get paid as long as your role is well-played

Thus, it will be a ******* habit for you to breach
Anything and everything that’s within your reach

Crème de la crème treatment will be your regular
Etiquette is your last name, you shameless embezzler

But, hey. You’ll look very good in that high-end camouflage
All this charade to you is one good Swedish massage

I don’t think one will ever solve this double-bind puzzle
So keep up the good work with your stinky razzle-dazzle

Meanwhile, refrain from looking in the mirror
I forgot. It’s only business and you’re not a sinner

Dude! It’s about time now, you can die rich
Just before that, however, one last thing to teach

You look sharp alright, charismatic and ****
One day you’ll regret all this, I’m not whistling Dixie

Come around and behave. Labyrinth calls your class
Or else kindly take it all and shove it up your ***

My heart feels too heavy
to carry through another day
which means
it is still alive
still beating
and yet
to be honest
I don’t want to hold my head up
I don’t want to stay above
the waters of a shallow grave

what in this world
will give me back
the will to live
when hate is so quick
to take a breath away
to stop a heart
inside a strangers chest

what thesaurus of fear
what dictionary of ignorance
what is it that defines
the vocabulary of the blood
inside the mind
that loathes the brother
he does not know

the senators keep praying
praying for another distraction
the congressmen keep thinking
thinking of no one but themselves

and we just mindlessly nod
and bob our heads
debating who is to blame
pointing fingers while ignoring
our own reflections

apathy keeps us choking
on our own silence
and why are the living so quite
how is it that the dead
with no air in their lungs
no movement in their hearts
can sing so much brighter
can speak so much louder
than so many of those
that are still alive

nothing good will come
from the living
who refuse to speak for the dead
and the dead must be sick of dying
and I wonder why the grieving
aren’t sick to death of grief

and in all honesty I find it hard
to live another day in a world
that can make my heart

feel so heavy

too heavy

to carry through another day

but its there in that weight
isn’t it
that heavy
that burden of hope
that we know we are still alive
that are lungs can still take
and give breath
that our hearts can still beat
still pound beneath our ribs

and there in our pulse
no matter the weight of our hearts
should we not always
find the will to be alive

We have the wherewithal
To feed every boy and girl.
We also have the resources
To blow up half the world.

We have the extra cash
To let Congressmen roam
And also full resources
To give everybody a home.

We have plenty of money
To pay countries to like us.
Why can’t we make life
For our own people joyous?

We seem to be able to
Make death machines for all,
Why can’t we create for us
Medicine whose cost is small?

We can afford to give subsides
To the corporate welfare queens
So, why can’t we figure out how
To make functioning voting machines?

We buy stupid tripe every day in print
Why can’t we give up that crap for lent?
We hurl insults at non-Christians brothers.
It’s not possible this is what Jesus meant.

We have the wherewithal
To feed every boy and girl.
We also have the resources
To blow up half the world.

It's that time when all
the 20th century people die and
when the congressmen and senators
do not pick up the phone while the citizen
barbarians aren't dialing a retreat and looting
every major bank, grocery, purse,
pocket, wallet, and electronic device, shooting
their way through the movie lines
so they don't have to camp out for three days
to get tickets to see how to fight guns with guns,
war with war, and fire with fire.
Stand your ground, your neighbor might be up to
some crime even if they have halos
on their heads during the full moon on Friday the 13th.

The sky is falling!
Men are pregnant!
Mona Lisa is crying!
The mountain is on the way to Mohammed!
Congressmen have stopped lying!
Banks are giving away free money!
There's moss on a rolling stone!
Old dogs are learning a bunch of new tricks!
Hugh Hefner sleeps alone!
Hell has frozen
Pigs are flying!
The fat lady sang and took her bow!
The sun rose in the West yesterday!
I guess it's all over now.
Here comes a man on a pale grey horse
through the hole in the ozone layer...
These are things we expected of course.
Bow thy head in prayer.

Once again the bullets fly
Once again the chldren die
Once again the parents cry
Once again we wonder why

When will we all stand and say
The problem is the NRA
And all the congressmen they pay
To turn their heads the other way.

We need to all stand up and shout
All together we’ll have clout
We need to organize a rout
And vote the slimy ******* out
       ljm

crotchety, cramped children continuously cloud corners
containing combustible corn
                    consequently crouching consensual congressmen came

If you ask our NewsMax, America One fueled, republican congressmen
who won the last presidential election - they’ll pretend that they don’t know.
But hey, these are the guys, the “honest brokers” we can trust, to figure out UFOs.

These republicans disavow Trump’s clear treason. If they refuse to follow those clues,
like video captured by the guilty themselves - how can their UFO “hearings” fail to amuse?

It’s a shrewd political distraction, a republican red-herring, to put vague “aliens” in the news
just when Trump's lawyers are figuring out which prison facility he should choose.

In this circus of misinformation, we’re offered unproven decades of government collusion,
heck, we even have that RFK.jr nut insisting that the alien saucers are full of jews.

Of course, the aliens must be from distant galaxies - in their new breed of flying saucers -
why else would they be turning down so many lucrative showbiz offers?

Will it turn out that the cute, little, ET-guys are here conducting interstellar analysis?
Stay tuned. Have the aliens come to eat us - should we be frozen in fearful paralysis?
Or will our republican overlords, so busy removing our freedoms, decide it’s time to save us?

There’s no long proven, scientific fact that the newer, dumber, Republicans haven’t disputed,
maybe the UFOs were sent back from the future, their mission: study primitive human stupid.

If I die and I go to hell
One thing I know very well
I’ll take the elevator, and not stairs
And every Republican is sure to be there.
I won’t be lonely, or a little bit scared.
I can always hide in Donald Trump’s hair.
I’ll probably find some dandy premises
If I believe the campaign promises.

When I die and I go to hell
I will see evangelists ringing their bell
To direct their followers to the right
Figuring they finally won the fight
And got all the right people swayed.
They’re in for a revelation, I’m afraid.
As usual, they will have it backward.
Their vision upside down and awkward.

But, don’t worry everyone
If you are going to hell.
Fox News will be there with us
With made-up stories to tell
About how hell is about to freeze
And Democrats, down on their knees
Will repent in the final days
How soft they had treated the gays.

But, do not fear the story I tell.
Some things will be familiar in hell.
For instance, the Congressmen there
Will still be trying to work up a scare
That making them and their buddies rich
Is the right and proper political pitch.
When the field is their kind of level,
They will take over and outlaw the devil.

You’ve done so much
That is in no way right.
It makes us all wonder
How do you sleep at night?
The party of Abe Lincoln?
Not really so very much.
With his kind of leadership
You completely lost touch.

With malice toward none
And with liberty for all
Doesn’t match well with
Your current plans at all.
Right now you look at us
Your regular constituents
As unworthy of your notice
Or any serious commitment.

You’ve aimed your entire effort
At making the rich richer
And very little nectar for us
Pours from your national pitcher.
You prefer we starve and suffer
So Congressmen can get wealthy,
And rich corporations as well
Which is almost twice as stealthy.

So what happened to the vows
You took as the Oath of Office?
Where did you promise to make
A vast king’s ransom off us?
When did it say “Now I promise
To ***** the meek and poor,”?
To me, that is not what we
Elected your crooked *** for.

Why can’t you do your job
Seeing to the common weal
And stop trying to treat us
As if we were something unreal;
Things that get in your way
On your rise to immortality?
Please read the Bible you tout
And learn about immorality.

America   written   on  your   lady   of  liberty  statute  in  new  york ,  you  ask  fpr   the  tired,  the  poor,   those   yearning   to  breathe  free.    and  we  are   here   behind   that   statute,     waiting   in   articulate   rage   for   our   change  to  come.    we   cry    out    to   you   from  the   500  hundred  people   standing   in  line   for   one   job  line,   from  the  welfare  long  line  and  cheap  bargain   stores, as   we  eat  the  corner  store's  high  priced  make believe  steaks  and  bullet  proof  beans  that  make   up  our   daily  bread    the   American  dream   for   us   is   quickly    becoming    a  constant  nightmare,  even   while  awake  and   slowly   the  great  horn  of   plenty   is  running   dry.  for  we  are  overworked,overlooked, underpaid,   victimized  and  forgotten  in   this   land  of   the   free   and  home   of  the  brave.and  the  money  eagle  still  flies, but  too high  for  the  poor  to  catch. blacks,whites,yellows,browns, all  sing  the  blues of  hard  times, some   off  key  and  some  on.  congressmen  and  city council  legislate  themselves  higher   salaries , less  work  days  and  longer  vacations  an d  more  fun   times   supposedly  taken  to  other  lands   to   to  study   how   poor   we  are  here. Democrats  are  doing  it   to  their   secretaries,  while   the  Republicans  are  doing  it  to   the  nation.taxes  are  high,heat  and utilities too. the  cost   of  living  is  going  up  while   the chance at  living  is  going  down. food  stamps  throat    was  cut and   as  our  world  turns  people  in  other  lands  are  watching   the land  on  the  mat  taking  the  count.  the wait  and  want  for  daily  bread  and  a  better   chance  to  live  clings  like  a  bad   season   to   the poor  ,tired  and weary.poverty's  sorrow  slides  past   the  cheap  wine  inspired  laughter, the   stolen  ***  moments  to  blot  everything  out  and  forget, all  these  things   form  a  chain   of  human  need  can   i  get  a  witness ?

America written on your lady of liberty statue in new York harbor
You ask the tired poor weary those yearning to breath free
And we are here hiding in the silent shadow of that statue
Wating in articulate rage for our change to come
We cry out to you from the thousands in job lines
From the welfare lines and cheap bargain stores
While eating the corner store's high priced make-believe steaks
And bullet proof beans that make up our daily bread
The American dream for us is quickly becoming a home grown nightmare
Even while we're awake and slowly the great horn of plenty is running dry
For we are overworked,overlooked,underpaid,victimized
And forgotten in this land of the free and home of the brave
The money eagle still flies, but too high for the poor to catch
Blacks Whites Yellows Browns all sing the blues of hard times
Some off key and some on key Congressmen and city council legislate themselves higher salaries and less days to work along with longer vacations and more fun times
Democrats are doing it to their secretaries,while the Republicans are doing it to the Nation
Taxes are high and utilities too
The cost of living is going up while the chance at living is going down
Food stamps are cut in half as hunger cuts human throats
As our world turns people in other lands are watching us too
The want for a better life clings like a bad season
Povery's sorrow slides past the cheap wine inspired laughter
The stolen *** moments that blot out everything but the intense need
Can I get a witness?

"In case you're wondering who we are,
We're your friendly NRA.
Put your worries behind you now;
We are here to save the day.

"Feeling lost and insecure?
Feeling hopeless or dejected?
Come on down and buy your gun.
Your spirits will be resurrected.

"What? You want a handgun? Pshaw!
A handgun is just a toy.
An assault weapon is what you need
To make you feel like a really big boy.

“The thought of guns everywhere
Titillates us to the core.
We can’t describe the ecstasy
Of having more and more and more!

"Your Congressmen love to stick
Their hands into our bulging pockets.
Call it a little *** for tat--
Just keep us off your legal dockets.

"One of our leaders is Wayne LaPierre.
With every gun sale he's elated.
Some say he prevaricates;
We say truth is overrated.

"Gun manufacturers,
You scratch our backs, we'll scratch yours.
We'll make sure that all can access
Weapons that are made for wars.

"Certainly our Founding Fathers
Knew what they were doing when
They envisioned assault weapons
In the hands of all brave men.
 
"Join our 'well regulated
Militia' here in the United States.
We don’t like our beloved Second
Amendment to undergo debates.

"We are doing all we can
To weaken all gun safety laws.
Please don't mention violence;
Every system has its flaws.

"We subscribe to firearm freedom--
A genuine right that's everyone's.
Here's one way to look at it:
Religious liberty for your guns.

"'Life, liberty, and the pursuit of guns'--
That's our motto, simple and clear.
Gun grabbers had best beware:
The NRA will persevere.

"So now you know who we are:
We're your friendly NRA.
You can put your worries behind you;
We are here to save the day."

- by Bob B

A patriot, a service man
stood proud and let his
American flag fly.

Served his nations
when they called,
distinguished service
and honorably discharged.

A purple heart
with some PTSD,
told his family
the V.A. would
take good care of me.

The president and congressmen
upped the military budget by billions,
and as soon as that passed
went ahead and tried to get
servicemen’s health care cut.

Man, America doesn’t give a ****
about any of us.

Well, he pinched and saved
for most of his days,
struggling to get by.

Worked very hard
to finally start
a business that was
close to his heart.

Every year he barely managed
to make ends meet,
but was grateful to be
in this land of opportunity
where he could support his family
doing what he loved.

A virus closed almost
all of the businesses
in his neighborhood,cont.
so the government
said they would
bailout small businesses like his,
passed a billed
swore the promise
was fulfilled,
but he never saw a cent,
from the federal government,
cause almost all that aid
went to help out
major party donors.

Man, America doesn’t give a ****
about the man who runs
a small business.

One kid grew up
trying to live up
to his parent’s expectations;
Got a fast-food job
while he was in high school,
then worked his way through
to go to a good college.
Four years and student loans
got him out in the world
and on his own.

Got a decent job,
to pay down the debt,
but along the way he
became really sick,
and the health insurance
barely covered a fraction of it.
Now he is drowning
in an ocean of bills,
from disease that may still
**** him,
and his prescriptions
are practically poison.

It’s a cold hard fact
that this country lacks
real human decency.
Should have learned by now,
we are just the fatted cows
that are culled to feed corporate greed.

Man, America doesn’t give a ****
about you or me.

Caught in the midnight streetlight glory
The deprived lay bare, shivering in the streets
Wrapped in blankets of steaming yellow snow
Out of sight is far enough to remain out of mind
Only the white right is entitled to authenticate their rage

Lay your broken child to rest, in their welcome grave
Paid for so generously, by the Imperial NRA
Who knew schoolchildren and congressmen
Bleed the same, to a disputed death

So afraid of the wicked, social state
It's okay if we make our prosperity pay
On the backs of blacks, we made our beds
But it's not up to us to pay them back

Those we sent to fight for us, lay awake in torment
Who could have known, that the greater curse was coming home
We don't have the time or the mind to treat you
If you had laid down your life for your country
At least we’d call you a hero on your tombstone

We have become oversaturated
In who’s name disgraced
To the point where we condone the genocide ‘abroad’, online and televised
Where the blind have truly led the broke, to the ledge
We'll always be okay, should the right price be paid

People died.
Right there in the video.
They lost their lives after cyanide
laced drinks were forced
down their throats
and they choked.
And they died.
After listening to the tape, I researched.
918 people filled that room
many were confused, conflicted
but all addicted
to a drug
a plague
a bug, parasite named
Jim Jones.
He talked about Russia, and murdered congressmen
and how the world would not listen.
but, Jones, I listened.
I heard the voices cheering, I did
but I also heard the voices saying "I'm not ready to die"
I heard children start to cry
I heard them asking if they would to die,
all the while high on this drug you fed them.
Grab their jaws
open their mouths
pour it in.
Drug is defined as
"A medicine or other substance which has a physiological effect when ingested or otherwise introduced into the body, "
while Drank the Kool Aid is defined as
"Someone who has been so bought into their leader's vision or cause they will blindly follow to their own doom."
I WON'T!
So when you say to drank the Kool Aid
I stopped listening.
I watched
I watched as I poured out Kool Aid on the floor.
I imagined 918 people doing the same.
when a voice said, "take some"
I listened.
And I said no.