Category Archives: Poetry

Of Gods and Humans

The pusher-man pronounces sentence
from the high and lofty elite gates
purchased on the backs 
of the so-called "lower classes."
After all, in their minds
we are all too stupid
to do the right things for ourselves,

The oligarchs must save us from ourselves.
Or rather, save themselves from us.
They attend galas and birthday parties
without protection, except from us.

Do we suppose that the folks
in those gated communities of wealth
and power -- the glitzy diva-gods and goddesses
are ascended avatars & more virtuous than 
the deplorable stupids that grovel 
on the ghetto middle-earth streets?
Are they correct?

When Captain Cook discovered the Big Island
of Hawaii, the Polynesians assumed he was a god.
They brought him treasures and worshiped him
until they saw the Captain eat a banana 
which caused them to whisper among
themselves because "the gods don't eat bananas."
X marks the spot near Kona where Cook
died a very human death.

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Posted by on September 18, 2021 in Poetry



84 Groupthink

What shall it avail you
if you go viral all over the world
but losing self-respect?

What value is a popularity
on social media platforms
that only permit the opinion
of a preconceived algorithmic gatekeeper?

Does it make sense
that everyone must fall in,
marching in lockstep, or else be black-balled as
an enemy of an Orwellian consensus?

Now is the season for a new brand of lyric
to flame, bite, and name
regardless of fame.

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Posted by on September 17, 2021 in Poetry




Ambrosia, Pink Lady, and Honey Crisp
flaunt ruby as harvest apples appear.

Stacked ears of corn on the cob
await shucking, boiling, salt & butter,
then the chattering-smile of front teeth.
Cleaning the cob a row at a time
will probably need a toothpick
or a fingernail. 

When the tooth fairy got my front
teeth at the age of six, my mom
would cut the corn from the cob
with a sharp knife. She called
them boxcars because the
strips of kernels resembled a train.

Mom has been gone for decades,
but her loving nearness is as fresh
as this late summer's end.

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Posted by on September 4, 2021 in Poetry



A Gnawing Shame

Our administration left the dogs behind, persons
with more honor than they. Bomb-sniffing
hero-dogs who defended the lives of many
of our service people - just abandoned there---
with a regime known to curse dogs religiously. 
We've lost more
than the 13 by the careless ill-advised act of
our feckless leaders. I haven't told Murph
yet because I know she'll want to gnaw
a glute.

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Posted by on September 1, 2021 in Poetry



Global Management

It's my body, and I'll die if I want to.

Smoking and drinking have not yet been
outlawed though my coughing neighbor
blows three packs a day & stresses everyone's
insurance premiums and an inefficient
health care system. 

illnesses are at a pandemic proportion
all based on people being allowed
to make their own sugary choices. 

authorities try to mandate forcibly on
an experimental concoction 
that hasn't had nearly
enough trials to be vetted appropriately.
Why? Because of fear-mongering
$ interests which go far beyond
a concern for public

The nanny-state
wants to sterilize you from
having any choice but theirs. 

After all, Bill wants to see
a reduction of the human population
to a much more manageable 
number - like a billion, while
refugees are flooding the borders
who are  being covertly bused 
into our cities without being vaccinated
or even tested.
(by the very entities
blazoning the pandemic panic). 

Globalism is now
on full display, creating a problem
then mandating itself as the savior
of the world.
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Posted by on September 1, 2021 in Poetry



Yard Watch

Murph and me watch the squirrels
during our morning sit-down on the porch.
There is a mixed population of grays and blacks,
with chipmunks staying to themselves.

Each clan largely stays close to its own
fur. The grays are quite hierarchical and just
chose another chief to preside over rodent relations,
becoming an absolute nutter.

Tho whole rodent population can quickly see
how badly the grays are acting under senile
leadership. The blacks
won't even shake their tails at them anymore.

The crows laugh from the trees at them all
because the squirrel drama gives the crows
greater dominance over the whole backyard.

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Posted by on August 31, 2021 in Poetry



The Bigger They Are

As Brick said, "Mendacity is a system
that we live in." How true now
with the cyber augmentations that
can compound this system infinitely?

He suggested two answers: The drink
and death. Both are solutions for
cowardice. How about asking better

How about the role of skepticism?
How about walking right up to the
monstrous mendacious system
and staring it down armed with
the integrity of a child.

A motorcycle gang member
walked into a corner store. He
was known as a bully and a brute.

A 5-year-old girl noticed him,
walked up to him and said,
"May I sing you a song?" The
chain-wearing Hell's Angel grunted,
so the little girl grinned & began:
"Jesus loves me this I know
for the Bible tells me so..."

The colossal fellow melted as his
tears flowed. The little girl
smiled and touched his hand. 

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Posted by on August 29, 2021 in Poetry



Metabolically Screwed non-Poetry

Big business paid off scientists 
who skewed data about harmful substances.
Remember when people were told cigarettes are safe?
Look backwards 60 years.
It took several decades to expose the tobacco
magnates who funded scientists to support their 
carcinogenic product.

Consider also the lie that dietary fat is more obesigenic
than refined sugar and carbohydrate. This infernal lie is still passed
off by those who call themselves experts but refuse to take
the time to dig deeper, still clinging to the convenient dogma
they inherited. Meanwhile, 4 in 10 are now obese with 75%
of the population being insulin resistance with
prediabetes and a fatty liver - this is happening
in supposedly the most developed country in the world. 

is a far more pandemic than covid, yet old lies
still find die-hard adherents among the willfully ignorant
pseudo-scientific community who spike the science.

Woke yet?

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Posted by on August 29, 2021 in Poetry, Uncategorized



As Good Once as Ever Was

Our cat was named Kelly. She was
a tortoiseshell outdoor cat of the '60s
who lived on eight acres of an untamed rural
homestead. She was as wild as her environment.
She regularly fought with dogs, cats, and other vermin.

At about 14 years of age, she lost an eye. 
She was an old warrior that was hard to look
at. During her last years, her royal leadership over
her subjects seemed to wane. 
She rested during the days
basking in the sun, waiting for her final call.

One day, a cadre of chipmunks surrounded
her bedraggled reclining body.
She seemed to struggle
just to breathe. I felt sorry for her
as I saw the chippies taunt and mock
dancing around her spent frame.

I came back later. Kelly's cheeks were full,
and a sad tail-less victim was trapped under
one clawed paw. The remaining eye squinted
a feline smile at my naivety.

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Posted by on August 28, 2021 in Poetry




Most squirrels are black where we live.

Today, while gallivanting
with Murph, one clambered up a maple tree 
ahead of us. 

It was
jet-black sporting snow-white back feet. 
Its back paws resembled tennis shoes. 

It knows it is dope by the jauntiness
with which it kicked up its heels. I imagine
the other black squirrels have made this one
a celebrity of sorts. 

The pit bull wasn't impressed and wanted it
for breakfast.

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Posted by on August 27, 2021 in Poetry