Thursday, April 04, 2013

Pensive Patriot (or, Revolution is a Young Man’s Game)

Twenty five years ago
I was all for revolution.
My insular world
made numbers
seem larger (one always feels part of the majority in a group of like minds)

Life goes on,
realization that nobody
actually cares (except for themselves and commodities)
a thread of apathy
running through our
fabric of indifference…..or some such thing…..

They (it’s always THEM!)
are counting on
perfunctory populist thought….or lack thereof….

It was THEM!
slowly stealing our country
as we turned a blind eye
to mediocris endeavors.

D.C. looks like WCW (or Adult Swim)
puffing, posturing,
saying nothing,
and doing less…..or nothing more than required…..

Meanwhile….

Our myopic eyes
feed on pseudo-reality
and bastardized journalism,
genetically modified organisms
eating what little
grey mush remaining
in the flickering glow of
PRIMETIME…..

WE NEED REVOLUTION! 

I am for revolution,
but a one man revolution
is considered
nothing more
than terrorism
by THEM,
at best,
a sure quick death,
(or folding Whitey Bulger’s laundry
after a romantic walk in the yard…)

And I’m not sure
I care that much
anymore…

Besides,
revolution is a young man’s game….


Pensive Patriot (or, Revolution is a Young Man’s Game)

Twenty five years ago
I was all for revolution.
My insular world
made numbers
seem larger (one always feels part of the majority in a group of like minds)

Life goes on,
realization that nobody
actually cares (except for themselves and commodities)
a thread of apathy
running through our
fabric of indifference…..or some such thing…..

They (it’s always THEM!)
are counting on
perfunctory populist thought….or lack thereof….

It was THEM!
slowly stealing our country
as we turned a blind eye
to mediocris endeavors.

D.C. looks like WCW (or Adult Swim)
puffing, posturing,
saying nothing,
and doing less…..or nothing more than required…..

Meanwhile….

Our myopic eyes
feed on pseudo-reality
and bastardized journalism,
genetically modified organisms
eating what little
grey mush remaining
in the flickering glow of
PRIMETIME…..

WE NEED REVOLUTION! 

I am for revolution,
but a one man revolution
is considered
nothing more
than terrorism
by THEM,
at best,
a sure quick death,
(or folding Whitey Bulger’s laundry
after a romantic walk in the yard…)

And I’m not sure
I care that much
anymore…

Besides,
revolution is a young man’s game….


Thursday, March 28, 2013

Tiny Rant on Gay Marriage Debate...

What do I think of gay marriage? Absolutely nothing. As a a happily married heterosexual male I do not feel the least bit threatened if men marry men or women marry women. The institution of marriage is not jeopardized within the church, synagogue, or mosque. What business is it of mine or anyone else's for that matter, if some one would like the right to provide for their loved ones when they pass away? Meaning, this is a founding principle of our country, that of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, all of which is extended to those we care about. Most of us, if we are honest and not complete jerks, can agree that nothing would make one so happy on their death bed than to know that the ones you love are taken care of when you die, whomever they may be.

As a narrow minded bigot you have the right to your opinion. That right is guaranteed by our constitution. It also guarantees my right to say you are wrong and a cotton headed ninnymuggins.

As Christians we can defend non issues until we are blue in the face, but the argument remains footle when there are far more pressing issues that we can be addressing. Strain the gnats and swallow a fly. Ack!

I guess I do think something about it.....

Saturday, March 23, 2013

Common Sense Drinks Alone


Common Sense
downs another shot
at the end of the bar.
He has been at it
for an hour or so,
and things out there
are starting to get fuzzy.

Now reality
comes in bits and waves,
an optical illusion,
made palatable
by carefully spun lies.

Corporate paltering
selling plasticine promises
of old age sex
and face paralyzing
beauty cream.

Another shot down,
the future looks
Dali-esque,
eyeballs hardening,
funhouse mirror reflects
aberations of the past.

Grabbing the bottle,
four fingers down,
and everything dims,
intentional vivisepulture,
fresh food for the worms.

Common Sense
found puking
behind the dumpster
in the alley,
while the Tea Party looks
for its Mad Hatter,
sitting on their hands
for the revolution to come.




Wiping his mouth,
bellicose bantering
from would be jingoists
fill his ears with
Pavlovian responses
to real world issues
manufactured by the
Fair and Balanced.

and tasting stale vomit,
Common Sense goes home.

Common Sense Drinks Alone


Common Sense
downs another shot
at the end of the bar.
He has been at it
for an hour or so,
and things out there
are starting to get fuzzy.

Now reality
comes in bits and waves,
an optical illusion,
made palatable
by carefully spun lies.

Corporate paltering
selling plasticine promises
of old age sex
and face paralyzing
beauty cream.

Another shot down,
the future looks
Dali-esque,
eyeballs hardening,
funhouse mirror reflects
aberations of the past.

Grabbing the bottle,
four fingers down,
and everything dims,
intentional vivisepulture,
fresh food for the worms.

Common Sense
found puking
behind the dumpster
in the alley,
while the Tea Party looks
for its Mad Hatter,
sitting on their hands
for the revolution to come.




Wiping his mouth,
bellicose bantering
from would be jingoists
fill his ears with
Pavlovian responses
to real world issues
manufactured by the
Fair and Balanced.

and tasting stale vomit,
Common Sense goes home.

Saturday, March 09, 2013

Learned Poet (or Arrogant Jackass)



Your written eloquence
speaks nothing to
the eyes reading,
to the soul searching, 
the heart screaming!

Your attention to 
trivialities pound words,
like metal, into dull knives,
bruising more than cutting,
hacking the senses
into dullness,
into coma!

Your lettered names
prove nothing more
than ideas learned,
blinded lemming pride
the halls of academia!

You see, teacher,
a good poem
speaks to our souls, hearts,
coming from life lived
in the tragic,
the mundane,
and magnificent!

Learned Poet (or Arrogant Jackass)



Your written eloquence
speaks nothing to
the eyes reading,
to the soul searching, 
the heart screaming!

Your attention to 
trivialities pound words,
like metal, into dull knives,
bruising more than cutting,
hacking the senses
into dullness,
into coma!

Your lettered names
prove nothing more
than ideas learned,
blinded lemming pride
the halls of academia!

You see, teacher,
a good poem
speaks to our souls, hearts,
coming from life lived
in the tragic,
the mundane,
and magnificent!

Friday, February 22, 2013

Circus Nation

My country is hemorrhaging clowns.
Rather, Uncle Sam has taken a serious head wound 
and is hemorrhaging clowns.
Desipient pissants making footle decissions,
pissing on the poor and forgotten for rapacious gain.
Welcome to the politico 2013,
where common sense meets Walter Mitty
and nothing gets done.
Yup, my country is hemorrhaging clowns....