Election 2016

Tweedledee or Tweedledum?
Does it matter? Pass the rum!
We’ve now made our choice
And the world hears our voice;
Either way we knew the next
Four years will bring us tears;
But really, who do we have to blame?
Shame on US for playing such a game!
All our elected leaders only feed off
Of ‘we the people,’ who really need
To better tend our country and mend
So many of our troubles ourselves
Rather than living in our bubbles!
But here we are now and we bow. . .
Tweedledee or Tweedledum?
Does it matter? Pass the rum!

On Dakota Access Pipeline (DAPL)

No smiles but miles of tears with fear,
Our home stolen and made to roam,
When will insidious desecration end
And re-creation begin in redemption
Of our native land in bands of liberty?
Railroads, byways, rigs and pipelines
All fine to corporate heads dead
To the living world in which they live!
They destroy our worth
With our mother Earth,
But do they consider the bitter truth?
They are destroying themselves, too;
Is this truth that they never knew?
Stand with us against this grand plan
To further mar land and poison water;
Withstand this planned defilement
Without giving in to any beguilement!
To stand with us is to stand with you ~
This earth is also place of your birth ~
For we are all one under shining sun,
And our work of restoration just begun!

Important Note to Readers:  I have drawn my inspiration for this poem from Tanya’s “with reservation,” and would strongly urge/encourage you to read her poem and the information she provides. ALSO, please very seriously consider signing the “Stop the Dakota Access Pipeline” petition, and please know that it does not matter if you reside in another country! Well over 300,000 people have already signed and some of those signers are from outside the U. S. Just bear in mind that this issue concerns largely helpless Indigenous Peoples who need your voice as much as any other. Thank you and God bless!

Snakes Slithering Thru Green Grass

After preening himself, he keenly eyed the woman
With mean intentions as he crawled up the tree . . .
Ah! And people do talk about the oldest profession
In the world in their obsession with lurid images
Without considering the slithering professional,
Who made the first case, then tried to fade away
With his notable gain and the stain he left behind,
Except he was constrained by the eternal Judge
In that first garden-turned-courtroom . . . Oh no!
What is oft-thought the oldest profession is close,
But the nuisance of jurisprudence is the eldest,
And the professional, very much like a prostitute,
We call an attorney! And what an awful journey
Have they made down throughout history while
Slithering boldly through fields of gold and silver!
Like the Serpent with Adam and Eve, they deceive
And receive an attractive sum
From their captive clients . . .
Oh, they are dutiful in painting a beautiful picture
Of bountiful prize, if you benignly sign your name,
And then the claim is sealed and the truth revealed:
Gain for the barrister, pain for the compliant victim,
But the obiter dictum is in the details of the papers,
And they have full right to whatsoever they claim
Without a fight and with no blame . . .
After all, you signed your full name!
Did God not condemn that first nefarious attorney
And his progeny to eat dirt in soil-covered shirts?
Ah, but it seems the dust they suck must be gold,
And the green, green grass grows ass-high for them,
These slithering, profit-making snakes,
Who make their life by fake and fraud!
Ah! Attorneys!

Rant and Rave On, O Jackass

Okay, go ahead and grandly sit when you should stand,
Stand when you should kneel, and make yourself a heel;
Make your deal with anger, and appeal to the detestable;
Raise your fist in defiance with reliance on bitterness,
And spew your hate-filled words as you skew the truth
To fit your twisted view of reality, assisted by cohorts
In a cause devoid of plausibility, lacking any credibility;
Tis your right to turn your sight from the light of good
And chew on the rotten food of lies that fly from hell. . .
But please don’t expect applause for your hostile cause,
For hate breeds only more hate, as a great man once said,
And only bright light drives out the dark of cruel night;
And only those who march with love and clove of peace
Win hearts and souls and bowls of reasonable justice
With virtuous character and untainted integrity bathed
In ethical equity and purity to be preserved as a legacy
For all future generations as an incredible inspiration. . .
And you? Yours is but one of desperation for attention,
An aberration of righteousness, deprivation of goodness,
An obfuscation of honesty, and cessation of sensibility;
So go your way of enmity and cecity today in your life
Of brevity, which will soon be swept
Into the blistery dustbin of history!

They Are the Peacemakers

There are those who but smile and tease
And sit at ease in their big armchair
Without any care in the world in which
They seemingly bear no responsibility
Or even the capability of making any
Difference outside of mere self-interest;
Then there are those whose role seems
To be shooting holes in the white sheet
Of peace with the lease they have on life
Without any concern for who they burn;
Their hearts church in danger and anger;
And then there are those pretend to bend
To what is good and right in light of day,
But venom really runs through their veins,
Their brains are ever working to attain
Whatever it is they can gain as they feign
Holiness, hiding malice in callous hearts;
Then there are those who are really bigots
Who turn on the spigots of angry division
While claiming a vision of true equality,
But without the quality of real sincerity;
They are a shame and shams and to blame
For frightening violence with vehemence;
But then there are those who live in love
Like pure, sweet doves of heaven to leaven
Our world with a bit of heaven, to plant
Some seeds of love that will meet needs
In tall trees towering high above the fray
And dismay of an earth in birth of turmoil;
They are the peacemakers — not takers
Or fakers or troublemakers — peacemakers
Peacemakers … Peacemakers … Peacemakers

Smile Fool Smiles: Live Peace

Who taught us violence in which we persist?
Or do most of us senseless battles resist?
In wars fought, of what do our lives consist?
Who are those few who’ve taught us to insist
On yet another bloody campaign to persist?

Why should people say this is the only way?
Why stay the course of the few in dismay?
Why bend knee, bow head, enter the fray?
Why keep spilling blood for high price to pay
For the few power-Who, who darken the day?

Chance the chance to live and dance;
Laugh the laugh to skip and prance;
Play the plays in senseless trance;
Love all love in endless romance;
Smile fool smiles with the sand lance!

Hopping and happy-hoping,
Popping corporate bubbles,
Stopping all of the troubles,
Flopping in sandcoin rubble
Dropping in burning stubble,
Making peace in the struggle.

How can we stop all of this insanity?
How can we trash corporate vanity?
How can we mute violent profanity?
How can we love away inhumanity?

Who taught us violence in which we persist?
Or do most of us senseless battles resist?
Why should people say this is the only way?
To keep spilling blood; such high price to pay?

No! Dance away all the dæmonic dismay!
No! Sing away the cacophony of decay!
No! Laugh away the array of going astray!
No! Smile away the anger, animosity today!
No! Play away the sick, diabolic bouquet!
No! Feast away the replay of power display!
No! Wear away the backroom underplay!

Never cease being drooling fools for peace…
Peace on earth and from birth goodwill to all

After all, who taught us violence in which we persist?
So smile cool, fool smiles ten thousand miles long…
Live peace, be peace, and our world will be at peace.

Note: Originally posted in November 2015. Perhaps this is the poem I should have submitted to Poets for Peace. LOL  Oh well, too late for that, but not too late to share with readers/followers who may have missed it the first time around… I’m actually rather proud of this piece, if I may humbly say so. Blessings to one and all!

Politics in America

Bring out the paint to make some saints, and don’t forget the masks
For brash-crass politicians to bypass truth and bask in the circus
Of gleeful glory while piling manure over the real story in an effort
To seal the fate of an entire nation of lemmings, condemning them
To an unsuspected fate by bait of impossible promises pulled from
Effervescent clouds floating in liquescent sky under crescent moon
So soon to fade away on the day empty oaths are sworn with plenty
Of pomp and circumstance while citizens watch in mindless trance
And the puppet-servants prance while pence-bought clowns dance
In the romance of self-made fantasy of having gained something
In the election by their defection from flimsy conviction without
Realizing they’ll soon be served an eviction because they no longer
Serve any real purpose, but the party will go on beyond reason
For a season till the people understand too late that they’ve taken
Poisoned bait … again, that they’ve been pricked by self-serving
Dicks and tricked … again, and then they’ll cry to begin anew
But so few will make the effort to actually take action because
Of fear of harsh reaction and making such a fussy muss in pain
To regain life and liberty, sense and sensibility; and so the band
Plays on without any real reprimand — same tune, same song —
And so this is where we belong … in the grand ole U. S. of A**

Better Ways for Brighter Days?

Shrouded in doubt, clouded by deception, we wait for the reception
Of some new conception that will wipe away our tears and all fears,
Yet knowing that no selection in any election will lead to perfection;
Our destination is cremation of our nation to which we give nutation
Without thinking or even blinking; we just wink and nod and go on
About our business as usual, which is unusual for people in distress,
But why obsess over the inevitable, or impress with vain knowledge
When it’s easier to repress our feelings peeling away at our souls?
Here then is the conundrum of living in a dying kingdom with lying
Queen and bellicose autocrat vying to sit in the white tower of power:
What choice do people have with no voice, and over what to rejoice?
Ah! But most are intent to remain content, so long as they belong
To the games and the circus goes on with all silly gaffs and laughs
Without a thought that this happy show has been bought at the price
Of liberty by simplicity of trickery grown from the gross fertility
Of unchecked, wicked wizardry of those who hide in dark anonymity;
But will the simplicity of it all finally
Shine through the red, white and blue?
Will we see and refuse to bend the knee
To such insidious, political cruelty?
Are there better ways for brighter days?

Blue: In Memoriam

Red soaks strangely into blue but so few know the agony
Of patently cruel revenge upon the innocent for crimes
Accused though these pure souls did not abuse or misuse
What power they’d been given to stand like strong towers
Of resistance against the persistence of evil lurking
In the murky waters of back alleys and two-bit stores
Where whores hang for nickels and dimes while the clock
Chimes one after midnight, but there they shine a light,
Making their presence known and for this they’re blown
Away to never see another day, and never a ray of hope
Shines on gilded badge as the vagabond swigs his wine,
Wipes his lips and says, ‘Well ain’t that just fine!’
Tears are shed for fallen heroes as more rioters head
For the streets and storefronts claiming all rights
Justified by the persistent blight of their existence
As more glass is crashed and cars are smashed while
Pretended preachers stoke the fire, building a funeral
Pyre for an entire nation without realizing they’re
Screaming for their own castration as they succumb
To the temptation of rage, leading to the privation
Of home, family, church and community and the breaking
Of all unity and thus all hope for what is good and true
…including the brave men and women in blue, tis true!
…including the brave men and women in blue…


Dedication: To all of the courageous men and women, who serve in law enforcement across this country ~ the United States ~ and in remembrance of those who have sacrificed their lives in the line of duty, especially those gunned down in cold-blooded murder.


Across the wasted land in the band with no home;
Across the raging sea, not where we want to be;
Across the beach sand and wave foam to be damned;
Across the earth so far from hearth, empty hand…
And where now shall we go and how shall we know?
And who will take us in and begin to heal the hurt?
And who will seal our hearts and bind our wounds?
And who will mind our needs and heed our cries?
Who will feed our children or give us fresh seed?
Who will bend to love and tend our deepest cares?
Or shall we be tossed and forever lost in the world?
Or shall we see the eye of heaven and say good bye?