Month: July 2020

Damming Up Life’s Stream of Consciousness

Maybe this evokes an intermittent John Prine-ish note? A touch of John Callaghan? Possibly Rodney Dangerfield? Ha! Yeah, right. Still rising to becoming a grateful human being.

So please read the following with an imaginary blues riff inserted between each. Or maybe a rim shot.

It might cause traffic to come to a stop and sightseers to gawk

but do wheelchair users ever get challenged to walk the walk?

 

I feel like a forever party of one and for that I’m seeking a panacea

But luckless me has never even witnessed the face of Jesus on a tortilla

 

So if it’s Colonel Mustard in the cloister with an ever-burgeoning cross

doesn’t that make all religious dogma just a clueless albatross?

 

Imagine the handful Jesus was throughout his early teens?

so why did it take him so long to finally spill the beans?

 

I’m not sure if I’m Saturday night or Sunday morning

it depends on which Mary Magdalene role I’m performing

 

How does one become not just proficient but good at suicide?

have a body to subdivide like good old Jekyll and Hyde

 

My favorite band of all time is Lot’s Wife and the Saltines

with hits like “Nazarene Obscene” and “Peron the Argentine”

 

Were the Apostles truly the first and only fight club?

Is it true their ringmaster was none other than Beezlebubb?

 

I’m training guide dogs for the atrociously empirically impaired

those savantless idiots who believe Norwegians all drive Fjords

The Past, the Present and The Future

Introduction:

Not final thoughts, call them edible words

written hard in mind and put away wet

Evil is, yes, the world’s purest desire

and humans will never break from its twining

it’s a backwater oozing enchanting siren songs

laden with devil hybrids and soul strip mining

 

Long before this nation’s so-called founding

chains were placed heavy across human hearts

call it the original-est of mankind’s sins

the scars on the Blacks in order to tell them apart

 

Death freighters sailed across the dark seas

Lower in the water, burdened with heavy hate

the ticket-less cargoes bound for King Cotton

timeless auction blocks still the South’s soulmate

 

Label them holy shrines or places of the damned

hellholes of Wallace, Maddox, Connor and that filth

the reality is there’s a new generation always bidding

the latest now nattily dressed in suits and ties of silk

 

Oh, come one, come all to the public lynch

it’s a swing and sway of the three-fifths faction

for when it’s a state’s right to maim and then kill

you cannot emancipate solely with a proclamation

 

Call it an alignment with the status quo gospel

brewed and marinated in feral and fetid DNA

always remember, ‘it’s Mr. James Crow to you boy’

for the genocidal will never stop seeking prey

 

Yes, human giants climbed many of the mountaintops

alerting and and warning about fires of five alarm

challenging the plaintive ‘we’ve always done it this way’

battling malignant foes laden with a love to harm

 

But this ill extends far beyond the southern seceders

to constituents professing kinship with the Golden Rule

but when human innocence is profanely slain

the thirst of all is quenched by the vilest of cesspools

 

Have black lives ever really mattered?

only in the futures market of the enslaved

angels yes, but among us there are no better devils

much history is home sweet home for the depraved